well fed-08.07.11

*artwork-“fatigue” by tom bennett via saatchiart.com

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I grew to hate the aftertaste of your kisses.

It lingers for hours.

My home suffocates under the shield of your cigarettes

And leftovers of lust.

You’ve been worshiped for so long

That now I can barely take you.

I am sick of hearing your impotent words

And your once mind-bending touch

Went sour.

 

I am overdosed.

Yet so scared of letting go.
 

 

 

 

the shadow of nicole and marrast-04.02.11

*artwork-  “impostor” by leslie ann o’dell via leslieannodell.com

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being displeased
tiny bug bites within
feeds on disappointment
eats frozen invoiced words
wormish sleeky tales
of illusions that won’t ever bring light
unfriendly friends
sly enemies
hello, i say
when they come so close
that i can touch with my bare hands
feel through steely hearts
look into their eyes
inhale their lies
this stream of  hollow promises
destined to die quietly
but my stomach
holds hope, in the farthest rooms
of the reddish matter
that’s called intestines
i like to show it off
and to pretend
being the fair one.

cold home-13.01.11

*artwork-“embrace” by egon schiele

embrace

will i ever conquer the vibrant?

Caledonian sky was beautiful
sometimes i could feel free
and scared no more
but here i go, cold home
that feels alien
i’ve lost track of time
in my own 2.5 rooms
where i walk with my eyes closed at nights,
touching guidelines of walls.
my hands are different.
every piece of my body is unpleasantly new
though i am not renewed, tired.
may be this is the sense of freedom
freedom-like dungeon
underneath changing skies,
the city was vicious and i needed (to)
revenge.

i wonder what was it?
how lonely i felt embraced by the loved one.
how lonely my loved one has probably felt.

who are you?-5.12.10

*artwork-“empathy”  by John Edward Marin via fineartamerica.com

empathy-john-edward-marin

 

who are you people?
countless names on countless pages.
is it all about comfort?
and why destroy freshly built basics?

he who likes Kurt Vonnegut and Milorad Pavic,
damn geniuses, i adorebeing adored
being the smart one
playing with
enchanting music attached to words that have no meaning
to me
and books
little book worm, devouring pages
under the blanket
that’s what i was
and now words are pale.

i want to be understood,
and, maybe, forgiven.

till he wants to tell me his story-13.11.10

*artwork-“angels in waiting” by libby mills via libbymills.wordpress.com

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together-less togetherness
it’s me, waiting on him
till he wants to tell me his story

this building is shivering
and can be broken down
easily
with one simple word
whispered inside out
whispered because it needs to be shouted
and blind eyes will become green
and deaf ears will heed
and mute mouth will break silence

 

absurdistan-15.10.10

*artwork- by jiwoon pak via artparasites.com

jiwoon-pak

 

absurdistan.
my being is ridiculous country.
it’s easy: i merely want to be needed, important and
irreplaceable.
so that they won’t have a new girl, again.but, in the meantime, i am bored.
and everything around me seems
dull
and pointless.
people used to be.
and i once was
someone that i am not, anymore.
yet, i hold on to. clinging to something
that is not even memory.
primeval fright.
ever present anxiety.
so, i wait. i’m alert.
always ready for being turned away.
returned to
the manufacturer.


in a
 common cardboard box,
straight to unlovingness.

layered-4.10.10

*artwork-“smoke” by brigitte werner via pixabay.com

smoke-69124_960_720

for more than two hundred and seventy days
i pushed away, it was not easy.
funny it feels, the tips of stiff fingers tremble
and heart pounds so fast.
this face in front of me. still precious? or is it?
just impatience,
covered with thin layer of curiosity
covered with thick layer of urge to destroy.
everything’s so familiar
these feminine hands,
hiding behind ever present cigarette
and convenient smoke.
hello, roman.
i just wanted to say good-bye.
 

fairy-tale for a grown up-24.09.10

*artwork-“waiting for the sun” by cameron gray via fineartamerica.com

waiting-for-the-sun1-1200x1200

 

“pattern”, it is called.
her little personal drama.
all of a sudden – a whirlpool,
echoing voice of sticky old trauma.”don’t wait for me yet”
he asks.
well, it’s too late,
the mechanism’s on
her heart sings that
obnoxious,
moth-eaten song.

even in best families-20.09.10

*artwork-“acceptance” by ella prakash via mojarto.com

duality?
ambiguity?
multiple personality?
nah, just all in one.
disordered.
i am as complicated as a shampoo.

beloved and be-hated villains,
sour and sweet voices
they build and then destroy,
occasionally sharing the same sentence.
boy, do i love it!

major fuck up.
production flaw at mama’s factory.
but!
another wise man said, that
in best families (sh)it happens, too.

roads-13.09.10

*artwork- “confusion” by roswita szyszka via  dart.fine-art.co

while  married to roads,
of microscopic (barely) homeland,
i’ve been around and across.
same scenery all over.
relentless skies.
brown growth.
sea is on my left. hopelessness- on right.
forever with my eyes closed
i am to hear someone else’s music,
and feel a stranger’s elbow
and smell a piercing sweat.

and now, again i’m lost?
these ways are alien.
i am at the crossroads,
same ruthless sky and rusty growth.
still. location is unclear.

you drive. your hand rests on my knee
together. we are so lost together
these roads divide and split,
so threatening, and we
we are bemused again.
you don’t know what to say

and my words die inside so i keep silent.