A bridge is burning under the sea
as your breath I hear louder than my screams.
A heart is drowning, and the sirens are singing with the beats.
Have you been waiting long for me?
I ran from my home to stay awake in my dreams.
I wish you could imagine how I feel.
It's like the heaviness is digging into my body to find nothing underneath.
How can I type this pain?
My bones want to get out and hang themselves on the screen.
My head is looking for a shoulder to replace what's been missing inside my brain.
Have you been waiting long for me?
Fading into a horizon where the moon is the nightmare and the sun isn't real,
walking outside of my shoes,
dark clouds are moving under my feet.
I've been patient. I've been sleeping with my sword under the blanket,
but nothing changes except the clock hands.
I wish a coin could make the deal with death.
I wish I wasn't so eager for it to set me free.
I wish I wasn't the one who had to leave.
But tell me—
Have you been waiting long for me?
'Cause I feel like no one can hear the sound of my soul that wants to flee.
My fate turned to blank pages a long time ago;
I can't understand why I am still here.
Just to circle around and pray for an end.
But who cares how I've been?
I am the sinner. I am the sin.
I am the one who abandoned you when you needed peace.
So tell me—
Have you been waiting long for me?

the streetlights were weirdly shaking
I think they were on fentanyl
the headlights were violently bright
it was like the stars were on the ground
the traffic was strangely quiet
the cars weren't making a single sound
pedestrians were all in love with me
they were following my tire tracks
I could smell gasoline under my eyes
the birds were going backwards
the god's face was visible in the sky
she was a woman who looked like a man

I remembered someone was trying to hold my hand
but I couldn't feel my hands
I couldn't feel my breath
my chest was trying to scream, but my ashtray was full of lungs
something is alive inside my drugs
but it gets drowned every time
my head was an airstrip
my muscles were flying out
but my forehead was in their way
so they crashed in my heart
it's the gray clouds that are whispering when I write
my phone's screen is tired
so am I
this road was longer than my thoughts
so I touch the cross
and wish you were gone before the panic arrives

Mourning
like a lost dog,
like finding out you're in your body in the middle of ***,
like a chest cancer getting worse every day,
and you say I'm ok in the middle of a cough.
Mourning
like you've lost everything,
barking to be found,
coughing will remind.
you leave that body 'cause you like being in the dark.
Mourning
is all you got,
so get undressed again.
no collar,
no one's around.
Going up and down on the bed—
you're ok,
it's just a cough.

I will keep your cigarettes.
I will wear your cross earring.
I keep the dead love I never showed
like it's sacred.
Though I am scared.
Where will I go from this nowhere I am stuck in?
If love couldn't save me,
would loneliness and fear?
When I left my only light behind,
I can only hear the death whispering in the darkness around.
Dimness.
Sleep or awake—
it doesn't matter if I close my eyes or not,
the nightmare will arrive.
Crows flapping close to my ear,
nervous nerves, shaking hands,
two eyes connected to my brain
just so I can watch the disintegration behind them.
I will keep you in my mind,
just to remind myself why I let myself go.
I will protect you from me.

And maybe I like it here,
falling into a dark well that never ends,
always afraid of when I'm gonna hit the ground.
Feeling close to the end,
far from being saved.
Maybe I keep falling forever
and should let go of the question "when"
and enjoy the ride.
One, twelve, seventeen, twenty-one
death is crawling under my skin,
but I'm still here,
so I will enjoy the ride.
I will dance when I'm falling down.
Nothing can save me now,
and it's just fine.
It's just fine.

The fall wasn’t pretty in the eyes of falling leaves.
The moon, undressed, unprepared. The night awaits.
You paint me red.
It’s okay.
Who cares if Canvas likes the brush anyway?
The door of trust was open for years.
In the ashes of my home, I will sleep.
The rain falls on open wounds,
So vicious, so cruelly undefendable.
And
The devil you know became alone,
So much
She wears a cross to burn her chest.
The weight of winter on spring.
I need to know,
How do flowers bloom in dry, hopeless, cold woods?
The writer lost herself in the obsession of pain,
Wrapped around the words she could not tell.
One, twelve, seventeen, twenty-one.
Another night, the next spring, she tries,
She tries to stay.

I write another to the void,
just 'cause I don't know what else to do with my day.

Declaration of emptiness.
A taxidermy bird.
A dark room in the core of the sun.
Two legs on a wheelchair watching a marathon.
A soldier in a war who's lost his sword.
Devil on his knees, praying to go back to Eden.
A dead man's soul asking for another chance.
Moon, jealous of the stars that can shine themselves and don't have to beg.
Mistake after mistake, you can't control your restless hand.
You can't take back the clock's hands.
Reading a book over and over again, expecting it ends different.
A king of a small land, in front of Alexander the Great.
Mom, would Dad come back home again?
Trying to light a flame under the rain.
An apple tree hating the spring, for it’s like the dryness—
for it feels the fruits came from hurt,
but the hurt comes from itself.
The wind became mad, so she hit her head on every wall she saw,
but they call her wild in the end.
Hope was just a name you could choose for your kid.
Giving up is the only way.
Giving up is the only way.

I dream in lunar craters
on the bright side of the moon.

My vocal cords, a reception hall
made of copper and gold—
the brides, in black dresses,
hostages in a chokehold,
waiting for a moment to escape.
And when they do,
their dance fades slowly in the vastness of the sky,
as they get lost trying to find their other one.

I tell myself:
if you could fly, you would have the same fate.
Even with the speed of light, you would never impact an ear.

If you want to dream, dream of what you can see; it's still just a dream—
but it feels more real.

So I looked above, into the night sky,
and I stared at the dark parts of the moon,
and I dreamed.
Albategnius.
Langrenus.
Aristarchus.
One.
Twelve.
Sevent­een.
Twenty-one.

In my dream,
the moon had bones
softer than our skin.
And she heard
as I screamed,
and she cared.
And all the brides
made it to the other side.
They danced till sunrise,
as I swallowed my own throat.

So like a wolf,
I wait till the sky turns dark,
and I howl
as the moon takes my hand
and tells me to let go of the metals
I hold deep inside of me.

keep me in your chokehold
till, in the night,
lunar craters set me free.