Dreams, so many dreams
Some forgotten, some waiting to happen

am I one of those dreams?
forgotten after the morning alarm
or waiting to come knocking?

forgotten, or waiting to happen
am I a forgotten dream,
or are you waiting for me too?

dreams, so many dreams
overflowing with them

will I reach them,
or will I have to forget them?

each day, an ache that never ends
but when —
when will it be enough?

time.
time is cruel for a dreamer.

and what am I
if not a dreamer?

a dream
or a dreamer

I guess I’ll know someday,
but not today.

time, time is cruel for a dreamer
sometimes too slow
sometimes too fast
a never-ending agony

dreams,
so many dreams

some forgotten...
just like me

and yet —
I keep dreaming.

i found your name pressed between the pages of june
written while the world stood still.
you reminded me soft landings still exist,
our connection - warm like the sun, easy like the breeze
we talked about everything and nothing,
like time couldn’t touch us.
i could finally breathe and not feel like i have to fight
do you feel it when i tell the moon about you?
do you feel every piece of me you're mending?
do you hear the silence between my words,
where I miss you - just a little?
i found your name pressed between the pages of june
warm like the sun, easy like the breeze
I told you didn’t I?
You make me want to write poetry

I burn
and I burn
and burn.
Everyone loves it
when I burn for them.
They enjoy the warmth I give.
I burn and I burn,
yet no one burns for me.

Why keep burning then?
The answer is simple:
I don’t know how else to love.
I burn and I burn
until I can’t
anymore.

Stuck in a crossroad
always in the middle of these **** roads
Where do I go?
Which road do I choose?
Does it even lead anywhere?
Do either have a dead end?
Stuck in a crossroad —
or multiple crossroads
Identity, morality, existence
Love, pain, hope
I pick my path —
Another crossroad

Maslow said we need food, safety, love
But he never mentioned
how easily hunger becomes sin

Greedy little thing
It’s never just about money,
or fame, or power—
It’s that ache deep inside,
the need for more,
for something real

Greedy little thing
For childhood memories I didn’t have
Insecure in the constant movement
Years-old boots, worn out
Around me —
latest shoes, new jackets

The grass is always greener on the other side,
isn’t it?
I couldn’t go out,
so I made a home in my head.

Greedy little thing
For the love that never found me —
the kind I watched
but never felt.
For the affection I never got
“I’m proud of you,” “good job” —
words I didn’t hear

At some point,
love became pain as well
A pretty bruise
Here and there

Greedy little thing
The grass is always greener —
where you’re not

My prettiest words,
my sincerest thoughts,
the deepest parts of my heart—
you had them all.

I had eyes only for you.
Now I’m blind.

I don’t know where I’m going,
but I know where I’ve been.
I touched your heart
for just a moment—
and I could breathe.

Now I’m blind,
hooked to a breathing machine.

One story,
two different perspectives.
One story,
a hero and a villain.
Two different perspectives —
Now who's the hero
And who's the villain?