Monday, 6 June 2011

sweet madness

I am ready to negotiate, but not about love.
I will write with a knife my decision on my skin so that every time I doubt about my choice the scars will remind me of them and of the reason why I have taken them.

I am still trying to remove your hands from my memory, the cold of your body, the scent of your skin.

It's going to be easy if I don't listen to my thoughts and I ignore my dreams, so real, so hot, so recurrent.

You won't hear me say that. I will not confirm or deny it. I am not going to beg my mind for it any longer.

In the shadows of the day all seems to be made of silver and the reflection of you hurts my eyes still sore of my dreams.

I vaguely remember I was making love to you and you were staring at the moon, thinking about a distant world, I was not part of.
I was on fire but I could not melt the ice.

I have asked myself in the days after the full moon if the phoenix could still raise from her ashes, but she preferred to disappear in the underground of my remembrance together with him and the memory of you.

I still love you.

I can't confess to myself I feel lost.

"Boris, I have to take care of my life now. Please, stand by until next time you are allowed to live"

that's what I am doing now, or at least this is how I feel. I am stuck in my head and I have to admit that it's not such a bad feeling after all.

So, summing up nothing has changed, if I don't consider that now I am aware of the lies I have been telling to myself and of the cold I feel when the sun is off.

I think this writing could seem tragic to an eye which is not trained. But an omniscient narrator as you are should know more than this.

I kiss your neck while you sleep. You moan and pull me towards you without waking up.
I taste your body and try to remember the sensation of silk on my tongue.
I can't fight against how much I want you.
I bite your side gently while my hands touch you, not leaving space to the imagination.

Do you feel me? Do you feel how my kisses burn? Or is my skin the only one on fire?

Your lips curl up in a smile that makes me lose the will of fighting against myself. I know this is just a fantasy, a dream with no return, but the nice side of madness is that when you are there you don't mind anymore.
mmh...you are so warm now. I wonder if it's really you what I am feeling or just the other myself, I am used to make love with.

Saturday, 4 June 2011

The sphere

"Boris, I won't be around for a while..."
"What does that mean Sascha?"
"It means that I have to leave, and I can't even choose"

The grass under my feet was waving like a green sea moved by the wind.

"Here" he said to me handing me a little something packed in rice paper "Keep it in your hands when you sleep. It will help"
He hugged me and turned away. I wanted to stop him, but I was paralyzed. He walked slowly without turning back. When I had almost lost sight of him I saw him raise his hand once again to say goodbye, after that I never saw him again.

I opened the paper and I found a seed. It looked like a sunflower seed.

I let myself fall on the grass, keeping the seed in my hand I fell asleep.
A quiet sleep with no dreams.

I woke up on a platform suspended in the middle of a giant steel sphere.
Next to me there was a young man, a warrior, dressed in a silver armor.
His eyes were serious but sweet, like he would be there to guard on me.

"Who are you?" I asked rude.

He raised his eyebrows smirking.

"the sunflower seed?" This was becoming ridiculous, even for a dream.
"That was not a sunflower, but a dark sun seed"
"Fuck that, is this some kind of joke?"

He made a swinging movement with his hand and a red mattress appeared, he asked me to sit there.

He took away his armor remaining with a heavy leather trouser. His skin was pale and scented.

He came and sat next to me, caressing my hair he made me lie down and rested at my side. His hand crawled under my blouse, touching me delicate and smooth like a feather. I closed my eyes and focused on that touch. Why did he do that? Why did he go away and sent him in his place.

I was upset and still I liked his touch, he seemed to know me, my body, he knew where and how to touch me.

The young fighter rested his head on my chest and he said:
"it's saying my name...your heart is saying my name...how do you know it?"
"I...I don't..."
I replied.
He kissed my neck and took my hands
"touch me. Learn about me. We are together now and even if you can't have me, we are meant to be this way"
He saw I didn't understand
"You know you are dreaming Boris?"
I had thought so.

The image of Sascha leaving passed by my eyes and I hugged my dark sun tightly, shaken by a sudden fear I could not fight against.

"You know he is gone for good...don't you?"

Is voice was low and calm, full of understanding. I felt it penetrate my body like a blade, I stopped breathing.

I felt tears flowing from my eyes and where they passed they burned.

"I am here" he said.
I wanted him to be, I wanted to feel him and to be protected.
His mouth found his way exploring my body.
Our hands on each other's body were hungry and the sweet sensation of mercy changed into rough desire.
I felt him shaking with desire, cold and smooth like silk.
I felt myself getting hot and feverish and when our bodies connected his voice calling my name made me lose conscience of time and space.
....

Waking up didn't seem to stop the charm, where his hands and mouth had been my body was  burning.

I tried not to move in my bed, maybe I would have fallen asleep again and I would have brought back to the sphere, where my warrior was waiting.

But the sun was already shining and the day had apparently come to stop the magic.

Friday, 3 June 2011

when your own words seem to suck...

Use better ones...




I gotta tell you what I'm feelin' inside, I could lie to myself, but it's true
There's no denying when I look in your eyes, girl I'm out of my head over you
I lived my life believin' all love is blind
But everything about you is tellin' me this time

It's forever, this time I know and there's no doubt in my mind
Forever, until my life is thru, girl I'll be lovin' you forever


I hear the echo of a promise I made
When you're strong you can stand on your own
But those words grow distant as I look at your face
No, I don't wanna go it alone
I never thought I'd lay my heart on the line
But everything about you is tellin' me this time

It's forever, this time I know and there's no doubt in my mind
Forever, until my life is thru, girl I'll be lovin' you forever

yeah!

I see my future when I look in your eyes
It took your love to make my heart come aliveCos I lived my life believin' all love is blind
But everything about you is tellin' me this time

It's forever, this time I know and there's no doubt in my mind
Forever, until my life is thru, girl I'll be lovin' you forever


========================================================
MESSAGE FROM BORIS: the funny thing I still can't understand where I am, how much damage I have made and If I can repair. I am waiting to know this. I am waiting for the one who has all the answer I am looking for to share...
and oh, I have time so don't ever think it's too late.

that day beyond the Eclipse

That I had to lose you to admit that I love you, is so me.
I am still here though.
I have never believed in people coming back when they left, but you are not people and we share more.
I have memories of you I don't want to leave and, even if now it's silent, my heart remembers our melody, like the hands of a skilled violinist.

I had been living in the past until I met you, waiting for the hand of a ghost to caress me in the night and when you came, like a dark sun, to wake me up from that artificial sleep I had made the mistake of believing I deserved that, just because life took something away from me.

I have made a step back.
I know nothing is granted now, still I can't get over losing you.

Stay, please...stay.

I will be what you expect me to be, but don't step away.

Do you need time? You'll have time.
But give me that chance I have burned. Give it back and I'll be worth it.

The light of the day makes my head ache. I can't write any longer.

Maybe it's for the best, since my theatrical self has no words left to say.

I'll stay here and wait for that day beyond the Eclipse.

Thursday, 2 June 2011

awakening

building a wall will not offer protection to the ones you love.
breaking a wall will not harm the ones who love you.
maybe will show a new path
Allow it to break mind and body and you'll break more than yours alone.

Wednesday, 1 June 2011

the station

I walk down the street. It brings downtown at the railway station, a place full of hookers and dealers, a place where nobody cares to know me, where I can pay for sex and hear someone calling my name moaning with pleasure, where I can reach a smoke an dumb my senses to an artificial happiness.
It has not been like that all the way long.
There has been a period in which I could still feel.
But now it's over. I don't want to believe in something that will make me suffer again.
I get some warmth from the bodies I get to meet on the way and I drink out my rage.
looking into myself and searching for what remains of me.

I vaguely remember a dream.
sweet, scented, like a flower, cold and warm, I remember my heart beating faster, my eyes filled with passion. My breath was still bringing oxygen to my lungs then.
Now I have stopped breathing, beating, living.
I give it up, letting this life live me.

A friend told me that I had to avoid turning inwards, he said it would have been dangerous. But I don't care.
I don't care, because I lost the one thing that gave a sense to this journey: hope.

The gipsy took my hand and she said "you have a nice hand, you have lost someone you loved so much, your heart has been broken. You really wanted to die..and this man who played with the fire, he abused you, didn't he?" I kept listening to her uncanny tale, asking myself if anybody could have told the same and swallowing my fear, the uncertainty of the future, the pain of the past.

She stopped and looked at me.
Her eyes with to much kohl on them, deep and turbid, looked at me. She seems troubled
"I am sorry Sir, your life is short" She said I'll die at my forty two. I laughed

"What if I pay up. Am i going to live longer?"
she gives me back the money I had given her
"I am sorry" she says.

I look at her walking away trying to realise what she just told me. I am amused, but I feel uncomfortable.

After all this years, only now, I understand what she wanted to say. Death has a lot of meaning and losing hope is worse than losing life, since you are forced to live the life of a corpse or let yourself be lived.
I have no will. Nothing of the warm nights and the loving thoughts is being merciful.
I have been thrown from a train in motion, and many time I have thrown myself down a skyscraper, but this time I don't feel like doing it again: getting up to wait for the next crash.

I have some more things to do, serious things, like build my house on a piece of wreckage or keep myself alive. I will be fine because I always am. Because my nature is the one of a minstrel, being dramatic to reach the bottom and get up again. This could be pure strategy, if I could avoid believing in my own words.

Time to go.

I am walking to the last station now, I will sit there drinking until I forget some more and I can pretend that nothing happened.

shut down

Dreams are different from nightmares for their colours.
In nightmares also, it's always cold.
I felt cold tonight, I was shivering before falling asleep and the images tried to come blurry and confused.
I felt sick in my sleep.
I was looking for you.
You always came when I called you. Or then if you were gone maybe he would have been there, back from where he went after sending you to me.
Because if you are not there he has to be. He promised.
I felt sick in my sleep.
I had to vomit, I felt my stomach closing and then my lungs. silence.

I called you shouting desperate, but I could not hear my voice and the pain of knowing you could not hear me made my heart ache.
"Please, come back...come back I can't lose you"
Still the dark didn't open in a meadow, or a waterfall like it used to, the dark remained dark and the cold filled me until I woke up crying, pain in my chest.

What happened. I don't remember. I just cannot recover any memory.
I want to turn the watch back to when he was still here, a presence who never left me. A presence who dried my tears, caressed my hear, kissed my lips. But my watch is broken.

I shake it with rage, hating his pointers because they don't move.
Bastard. Why don't you work? I loved you with all my heart pocket watch...and you left me when I needed you the most...
I throw him on the table, the glass breaks. So does my heart.
But turning and seeing him there in pieces, makes me feel dirty and mean.
"I am sorry pocket watch. Forgive me, I didn't want to hurt you, but I am broken too, you know, and I cannot find the force to get up this time. I just can't"

I have to dress and go to work, but how can I do that I can't stop crying...A man? No, I am not a man. I am a very small shell full of uncertainties. A kid, with no hand to hold.
I have to deal with this alone.
I feel that every time I rest my head on someone's chest it crashes on a wall at the end. It's just that my friend was right, I have to chose, I have to stop creating drama, I have to stop chasing love, I have to stop the crap and take action.

I have to chose.

And I have chosen, I want to shut down.

========================================================================
AUTHOR'S note: before you say it, yes, I thought about all before writing this. Still I have decided to write. I am guilty and I wait for the penalty “We have nothing further to add your Honor”

PS: WTF! I just got a 105€ ticket for high speed, I was apparently going 18.64 mph faster than allowed. As if I had a porche.

Tuesday, 31 May 2011

How To Tell If You’re A Writer

How To Tell If You’re A Writer


I am one with the last three

statement

One day I will discover what it is that makes me produce stupidity.
I hope it's something that can be operated.

I want to write
just one word
the one that makes me
feel alive.
But it's stuck,
like someone who
said "I am not leaving"
but in the eyes you
see a light showing
they have already left.
I am trying to keep myself
from feeling
because feeling is
something that never
gave me long
happyness
But I lost control of
this engine.
And the feelings come out of it like
gasses,
that make me suffocate.
Still I am happy, because I knew
that illusions show their face
just in that moment when you
think they have become real.
and for the first time
I didn't run away
but went to crash on it full speed.
I knew someone who told me
that you cannot be deceived but only deceive yourself.
I strongly believe that.
Nobody has the power to hurt you
if you don't allow that.
I have created a time bomb
and kept it on my lap,
caressing it while waiting
for it to explode (and I am able to let time pass fast when it doesn't have to)
Now that I am surrounded by
Pieces of something I can't recognize
I feel like nothing is
imoportant anymore.
Nothing but that one word.

Monday, 30 May 2011

The last night

In the night it's easier to write, to talk, to make mistakes.
In the night it's easy to fall in love and to be deceived, or to deceive.
The night is the place where I want to be.
I am feeling the black of the night on me it's a shelter, I like to touch it and to be in there like in a shell.
Sometimes lonely doesn't mean alone. It's a status of mind you create for yourself to escape from something, someone, nothing.
The words I can't say just fall down my throat and fill my lungs with diamonds.
I like that sensation of struggle.
The only colours of my nights is crimson, a crimson dust covering all the things around me, my soul and my heart.
I collected all the words and made a fire.
They are gone with their ashes.
I see them flying and I wave with my hand like they would just be leaving on vacation.
But they won't come back.
Crimson dust covers my body too and it puts me to sleep.
A deep sleep without dreams or joy or sorrow.
Only silence.