XXLove letters

 

 

When days are a long succession of dots,

 

 

Today I’ve decided to write about you,

It’s much harder than you think,

I try to stay cold and merciless,

I persuade myself that it’s over,

Foolishly I miss you,

I miss even the moments when I said ‘I don’t’,

 

You know I’ve always missed you,

Even the moments I hung up on you,

I’ve never been much of a compromiser,

I couldn’t survive your ‘Sorry’,

I wouldn’t have lived till morning,

If I had admitted the truth,

How much I loved you,

 

There is the path where we’ll be together,

Life is delayed at dawn,

Here days and melancholy flow,

Everything’s coming up roses,

We’ll equally share our prey,

You’ll keep petals and I’ll keep thorns,

 

Memories are soul deposits,

I type thoughts,

They knock on indifferent minds,

I travel through beautiful words,

The meaning of everything is well-hidden in brackets,

Sadness and loss are hidden in dots,

 

I try to persuade myself that I don’t need you,

I’m adaptable,

Don’t forget,

I travel through lives of others,

They remind me of my own,

Exactly like mine they are hungry for dreams,

 

I live in the pictures that want us together,

I hear the same song,

If I had a smile, I would give it to you as a present,

But my hands are empty,

In the end of each sentence I put the ellipsis,

I tell myself ‘I don’t need you’,

Lately I use too many dots.

 

P.S………………………………………………………………………

 

 

XXLove letters

 

 

When I think about love and happiness,

 

Sometimes I walk and stumble,

Sometimes I feel sad,

We have to admit,

There is beauty in sadness,

It’s mesmerizing like rain in late autumn,

It is a miraculous blossom,

It is a white wall with a picture of God,

 

It’s like a mysterious stranger,

She stands on the threshold of all that will fall apart,

 After she says ‘Good bye’,

She is ready to step on fresh virgin snow,

Something like this,

She runs barefoot to him in the rye,

This scene must be cut out,

It is old fashioned, moldy and slow,

 

Love and happiness are twisted notions,

If happiness is fish,

Fishermen can get it at the fishmonger’s shop,

Love is rarity,

Love becomes a commodity,

Love prices grow,

How easily people invest in a lie using it as a stage prop,

 

Where is love?

In ourselves or in others,

Love is like happiness,

There are so little love and joy in the world,

Happiness isn’t to stand on the summit,

Happiness is to climb up,

Reaching or not the mountain top,

 

I cannot be always happy,

Maybe because I want something,

It’s something I shouldn’t get,

Maybe it’s my fault,

I exclude it from my diet,

So that I can truly enjoy it,

After forgetting happiness taste,

 

Happiness is patchy,

It’s sweet and bitter too,

It’s like music and light in your laughter,

Walking down the street you breathe in the wind,

If we color life with what we see,

It’s a kitten that sits on a windowsill,

It’s two friendly fighting kids,

Will our life differ?

 

There are days,

There are roles,

We don’t understand,

It may be a game of emotions and feelings,

Not only my own,

I’m somebody else,

My identity stays unknown.

XXLove letters

 

 

 

When we stumble over the impossible,

 

 

Love synchronizes vibrations of souls,

Sex is procreation of time,

The unified energy system is more important than knowledge,

It guarantees moving forward,

It has an enormous creative potential,

Sex is the skill to tune instruments that have been already perfectly tuned by the genius love,

 

Christmas lights speak physics,

It is the nature of love,

Lights saturate lovers with thick shimmering substance,

He wears clear lens glasses,

He wants to look older,

He wants to look sophisticated,

He wants the secretary who likes his dad,

 

She lies down and reads poems,

It’s her attempt not to cry,

Being tired of waging war he wears boots and silence,

He bursts into hysterical laughter,

An exploding bomb replaces his badly broken heart,

His chances have just been blown,

She walks on tiptoes holding a broken stiletto heel in her hand,

Her eyes are starless,

Shrouded in night,

 

He is with his friends,

He refuses to grow,

The seventeen-year-old share the same grimace of contempt,

I can tell you numerous stories about lost souls,

Why they are always alone after they have understood something very important,

To escape death they know more than one way to kill themselves,

Every day bit by bit,

 

There is no pain fitting its best description,

I tried to describe it,

It seems I failed,

We are walking along the edge,

Where rapidly melting snow meets a tiny river,

Where reflections drown,

I look into the water,

Why do we speak on any topic avoiding the ones that hurt?

 

Why do I still repeat your name?

 

XXLove letters

 

 

When we are drunk, we all are philosophers,

 

 

One day love is a beauty,

Next day it is the ugliest sick,

Love is instincts and boiling desires,

Rarely do we mention fondness,

It’s the most heartbreaking version,

Fondness makes everyone better and weak,

It is a perfect shape of bestially thinking passion,

 

It’s cold in the room,

 I need human warmth,

Survival is worth more than diamonds,

I shall freeze to death without love,

Your window says ‘It’s spring outside’,

Sometimes windows lie,

My window doesn’t,

My window says ‘It’s a winter wonder’,

 

Your shoulders are shaking and shy,

I burry my face in the scent of your hair,

It is wrenching passion,

The fingers are nervous a little,

I sprout in human flesh,

You are my soil,

My fingers are roots,

They are indecisive and sly,

I wrap my arms and you are around,

 

Questions of life and death don’t torture,

They are posers that haven’t posed yet in my head,

I fly to the remotest planets,

Siting on old wooden swing and writing you letters,

I don’t curse,

I love dreaming,

For months clothes have been forgotten at the nearest dry cleaner’s,

I don’t think about rent,

 

In general I’m happy,

I am not the person I used to be,

I used to make up excuses,

To fabricate reasons in order to feel unhappy,

To weep like a willow,

To bury cute mummies wearing braces deeper that six feet deep,

Now I’m a feeling designer,

I design fears and doubts and many other things,

They are wearable during all seasons.

 

Love has a face of Friendship,

Love has a face of Hate,

Love has a face of Compassion,

Love has a face of Passion,

Love has a face of untimely death,

Love always breaks pride,

Love always stays love until the very end,

Love is a turbulent slide into the place where human will means nothing.

 

 

XXLove letters

 

 

 

When love finds the happy ending,

 

 

Madam Casavant decorated a tree,

She hung Christmas lights on the tree in her garden,

Now it is properly armed,

 It’s ready to celebrate,

Wearing bandoliers,

It’s ready to face the new year’s  arrival,

 

Crossed strands of lights looked like magic bullets,

I loved the idea of killing New Year,

I had to gold dig in the attic,

I turned the place upside down,

Finally baubles were found,

Voila,

Like millions of normal people I had a Christmas tree too,

 

I’ve decided,

  I love New Year celebration,

When it is lonely, I love it even more,

I could have made many bargains,

I lavished all my chances,

I traded them all for moments,

Not thinking about the final straw,

 

I grabbed the moments and lived them,

I was curious what taste they had,

Now I’m sure,

I don’t wonder,

They tasted like strawberry ice-cream with chocolate chunks,

It was a pleasant short stay in the hell of your head,

 

They were too sweet,

I realized shortly,

Too many sweets make me sick,

I retreated and got lost,

All beautiful things end very quickly,

In my bitter sweet sour world,

 

Music mumbles,

I don’t listen,

The drink is in my hand,

It’s cold,

Only Christmas and me,

The tree is burning,

The lonesome whistle is drilling my head,

 

I turn off light,

My night is bitter,

It tastes exactly like Grand Marnier,

It’s garnished with one slice of lemon.

Because I am still looking for someone, whom I can feel in blue raven darkness,

When my desperate eyes cannot see.

 

 

P.S. Sweet Moments