My weblog.

you don’t have to understand me to get me to save me to love me.
you don’t even have to buy me cute crocodile plushies, or blooming sakura’s
or plastic hearts.
they don’t have a rhythm, they don’t tick – they don’t even erupt and break down your whole fucking ribcage, don’t make the splinters stick out of your flesh when you’re literally crying your heart out.
i don’t need them.
maybe i don’t even need you.
you don’t tick, you don’t erupt, you don’t even have your own rhythm. you steal other rhythms from the internet and put them on your ipod, claiming them as your(favorites)s.

you’re a herbivore,
you would never hurt a single soul, a single heart, a pair of wings.

i would.
we carnivores tear apart our prey and sink our teeth in their bleeding misery.
grinning like we’re sorry.
crying like we’re happy.

my dog doesn’t get you,
my cat loves you.
i don’t know who to trust.

maybe, i should combine the two into a catdog and save the omnivores.

you never once showed up on a white horse,
your armor isn’t shining
and i think this was all a theater show that didn’t make it to hollywood.

it’s not
like i care
about the snowflakes you caught
and i didn’t see

it’s not
like it matters

ocean flows
and
desperate calling
of winter
kneeling before
a bed of flowers

i can heal
the world
if it would start seeing me
and
i wouldn’t be too scared to say
i love you

[but i am and i choke back every word which tries to get past the bodyguards.
i'm so stupid.]

soon
i won’t be able to cry
and
my heart
will thud
slow
to the beat of your summer soundtrack

a perfect shade
of misery

i don’t
dislike oxygen
i just
want to be able
to thank my rescuer

but
it’s not
like i care
about your
reality
colliding
with mine

you never told
me
why ladybugs don’t
have heart-shaped dots
and why they
can’t be pink

you
never told me
why my wings were broken

i guess it had something to do
with the scissors
of yours
and the ducktape
you own

i couldn’t get it off without ripping my feathers out

you are such a jealous bastard

you never told me
why you hold
on
to the memories
which are
actually
mine

treasure chests
filled with sleepingdust

you stole it when you
left

now
i suffer from
insomnia

i never told you i still have your daisies.

i never told you to bubble wrap your heart
you could handle a bleeding disaster
i never told you to not look down
to
where time         flies         fast
you were dazzled because of it’s wings
i never told you
rainbows
don’t
like
the color green
’cause you love it and how it represents

life

i never showed             you
the BIG wall
around
my
helpless heart
and the little
hole you used to get
in
i used to cover up
your
butterfly        wings
so that you would
stay
i didn’t want
you
to soar with
time
but you found out
flew through the window
you said you
would come         back

you never told me you liked to
lie

Een kat zoals Stasiek bestaat niet,

Daarom wil ik hem nog heel lang bij me hebben.

Wanneer de hemel donker wordt, de deken uitspreidt over de vederlichte huid. Wanneer de zon zijn avondjurk aantrekt en zich voorbereidt op een drukke heldere nacht. De wolkjes aan de kant jagend, zodat die vannacht volop straalt. Wanneer de lantaarnpalen hun lichten werpen op de verminkte stoeptegels om het huilen te stillen. Om ze op te laden met energie voor morgen. Een hoepel werpend om zich heen. Dan, wanneer de ochtendhemel slaapt, zal de eerste ster ontwaken. Zijn punten prikkend in de nog jonge nacht. Liefkozend zal de wind het strelen, het is immers het allereerste geschenk van de avondlucht.
Ik zal de eerste ster bekijken, met de weerspiegeling in mijn groene ogen. Dan zal een glimlach rond mijn mond spelen, vol liefde en vol rust. Die ster zal ik aan je schenken, alsof ik hem zelf heb gemaakt. Het zal je pad verlichten, hij wijst je waar te gaan. Omdat ik hem heb gegeven, weet ik diep in mijn eigen hart, dat vanavond zijn licht zal schijnen, vrij en dansend in de hemel;

voor ons twee alleen.