do you still feel my touch
or can i only leave bruises now?
if i'm the one to choose our death,
then you're the one to keep the vow.
when this love becomes too much,
if we live on as ghosts
will our bond be stronger
than it was before?
if i'm the one who let us down,
then you're the one who closed the door.

when the nights grow longer
and the days grow darker,
and the only light is the one
that can be switched off anytime,
you force yourself to wake up,
you force yourself to eat,
you force yourself to try
just a little harder,
and when you need to sleep
you have to force yourself,
ironically enough,
not to think
about the looming danger,
about the trembling hands,
about every test you couldn't pass,
about how the nights are longer
and how the days are darker,
and the only light you've got
is the one inside your heart.

the rain will stop someday,
although there might be floods,
that subsequent collateral damage
that lives in all of us.
and all that we've survived
persists in deserts, running dry;
some water could be what we need
to bring them back to life.
it's hard to turn the page
just as it's hard to start anew,
and every time someone says "no"
we still hear "not for you".
but when the currents change
their flow will wash away the pain.
although there might be floods,
the rain must surely stop someday.

you might meet someone,
be it the darkest night
or the first bright sunlight
of the rest of your life.
and they will look at you
like you're the only one they see,
not knowing that a part of you
still wishes you were here, with me,
be it the burning depths of hell
or the paradise beyond;
they'll never know you quite as well,
it's not their touch for which you yearn,
but i can't take you,
this space was always made for one,
although i loved you,
there's nothing more i could've done.
so i hope you meet someone,
be it in the midst of night
or on the brink of the first sunlight
of the rest of your life.

a thin red line,
it's there for all who do not know
if they are going to be here
to see the sun,
the way it rises,
chasing all the shadows out,
the way it wraps its shining warmth
around the ground,
around our souls.
you make a vow
to fight as long as you still have
the strength to take another breath
and fill your lungs,
and take a step
towards the twilight as it fades
with every star that it creates,
so in its final burst
you hope it takes us all,
may god have mercy on our souls.

you don't have to fight,
there's no justice to be found,
it's all been spent on wars
they couldn't win.
and if you tear down the sky,
is it divinity you seek?
when there's no god above,
the ground shifts beneath your feet;
you take a leap of faith,
but faith is on a leave.
you don't have to give up,
but there's a truce in the works.
be careful choosing the side,
the war they've lost
is now yours.

some of the best things we create
are meant for others to explore.
we grow too fast, we learn too late,
we leave before the curtain call.
and in the end all that we've made
turns into words, engraved in stone.
some of the best things we create
will only matter once we're gone.

it's a place you don't recognise anymore;
your mind,
the pathways, formerly known
as such and such,
you gave them names yourself,
you assigned tasks,
you decided their fate.
and now it's all different all of a sudden;
and now it's no longer familiar,
like a new suit
you've never once worn.
and you don't know what weapon to choose,
how to protect yourself
in this one-sided war
in your mind.
the trenches,
so dutifully dug out,
all prepared for the day you lose,
are gone,
and you don't recognise this place anymore.

time doesn't slow down for a talk,
like the resting heartbeat
of a ticking bomb.
every pause could last days,
could last weeks,
could last years.
it could end with a shot,
it could break with a kiss.
like a memory, split in a billion pieces,
like a mountain, with all its valleys and creases,
like an enemy missile,
about to be dropped,
time doesn't slow down for a talk.

there's a letter, forgotten on the shelf.
to the unknown lover.
to the one i lost.
to the one i dreamed up on a sleepless night.
to the one who haunts me like a ghost.
to the one that never bothered to call.
to the one that simply wasn't right.
to the one i hurt.
to the one who broke my heart.
to the one who forgot.
to the one i imagined my future with.
to the one who slowly drifted apart.
to the one with the sweetest goodbye kiss.
to the one that i thought was the one.
there's a letter, forgotten on the shelf.
to the unknown lover.
to the one who left.

i want to be moved by things,
even if they leave me empty
afterwards.
i want to be known
by someone who's brave enough
to dare and explore
the most profound depths
of my soul.
i want to always be seen as i am,
not as i was before;
that person is long gone.
i want to be loved like a sky on fire,
like a flood of devastation,
like a stolen kiss
before the end of the world.
i want to be moved by things,
even if there's nothing
but a lifeless desert
in their wake,
even if they leave me empty
afterwards.

i poured my sadness into you
although it wasn't fair,
i made you suffer the same fate
because i was so scared
to be alone.
and in this empty, desolated place
i stole your light,
abused your grace,
and then i took your life.
i know that it's too late,
there's no way home.
i'm sorry,
i'm just scared to be alone.

you don't mind it if it hurts,
as long the medicine takes over
at the right time.
you don't want to die,
but you often wonder
what it would be like to try.
living in reverse,
with every step forward
you just make it worse,
de-escalating and digressing
at an equal pace.
one more for the list of errors,
pin it on the board,
watch yourself lose another race.
you don't mind the shame,
but you loathe the side of you
that it brings out.
you don't want to drown,
but you often wonder
what it would feel like to be gone.

i don't want to be seen,
feel my touch on your cheek;
i don't want to be seen at all,
but the razors are sharp
and the curtains are drawn.
i don't want to be seen
lying down on the floor.
if you hold me, i'll break,
if you kiss me, i'll know;
but the panic runs through,
spinning out of control.
i don't want to be seen,
but my thoughts drown in ink
and the pages are torn.
i don't want to be seen,
feel my touch on your cheek;
i don't want to be seen at all.

...and every single day you're gone
hurts more.
i don't know what to do,
i've lost my purpose.
my name, when you don't say it,
is forgotten.
my face, when you don't look at it,
is blurred.
i couldn't recognize myself these days,
a shadow that protects your endless sleep.
i've hated you for years,
but now you haunt my dreams
and all my life's forever yours to keep.

you know you're touch starved
when you start having dreams
of hugging someone
and of being hugged.

i have one at least once a week.

your laughter's still alive on tape,
your room's a shrine,
our home - a prison.
i keep on planning my escape,
but when i do, it feels like treason.
dust settles down inside my lungs,
can't bring myself to change a thing.
it always takes me by surprise
when i come back and you're not here.
your footsteps linger in the halls,
your touch is felt through every surface.
your life is spread across the walls,
your shadow waits behind the curtains.
your voice is still alive on tape,
your room's a shrine,
our home - a prison.
i keep on planning my escape,
but when i do, it feels like treason.

i dream of setting things on fire
and watching as they turn to ash;
like lovers, tempted by desire,
surrender to the call of flesh.

some flames can never be extinguished,
some marks pierce skin right to the bone.
some pyres are better left unfinished,
some prayers make you feel alone.

but when the blazes take you higher,
the sky grows crimson in a flash.
i dream of setting things on fire
and watching as they turn to ash.

there are no greetings,
no farewells,
they cross the line
and leave unnoticed.
a solemn choir of silenced voices
repeating an outdated prayer.
there is no god to hear them out,
their hope is but an empty promise.
they find their rest
in nameless graves
and die the way they lived,
unnoticed.

they'll give it a name,
but a name doesn't mean
they'll take it more seriously
now that it has a place
in the common vocabulary.
it's still something
they don't understand,
since they can't relate
to battling the heaviness
just to stay present,
they don't know the weight
of staying awake.
now they put it on screens,
they promote it commercially,
mass-produced relief.
it still doesn't equal acceptance,
and just being able to live
shouldn't need to be paid for.
they give it a name,
but a name doesn't mean
they're no longer afraid to say it.
though it has its own place
in the vocabulary,
the victims remain unseen.

i used to love you but i don't know
if love's supposed to hurt this much.
and when you leave i try to stall you,
but lately it feels like a crutch,
and if i want to learn to walk alone
i have to let it go.
i have to let you go,
but you are wrapped just like a noose
around my throat.
i thought it was a rope to guide me,
now i know it's just a waste of time.
and all those years you have defined me,
now i can finally find out
how many of those fears were actually mine.
you're losing ground, you're out of touch,
and no, it definitely wasn't
supposed to hurt this much.
i think i've had enough for a lifetime.
i used to love you but i'm done.
figure it out.

you said that i'm wasting my time
on things that don't matter.
well, i'd rather be wasteful
than lonely.
the road to self-preservation
takes a lifetime and a half,
but on my third attempt
i think i'm finally getting
the hang of it.
and instead of shrinking in size
after every unpleasant comment
that makes no difference at all,
i expand into every direction
until there's no room to grow,
then a little bit more
afterwards.
and wouldn't you like to know
what i'm about to become,
wouldn't you want
to see me now?
well, i'm sorry for wasting your time,
but i'd rather be wasteful
than spend it
on trying to please
you.

what love may give
love shall take all the same,
the joy it brings is fleeting and uncertain.
a stolen kiss behind the heavy curtain
and every breath is on the precipice.
the one who yearns must yearn forever more,
the one who dares must learn to throw the game.
when bodies touch it's there to keep the score;
what love may give
love shall take all the same.

you only seem to love me
when you're down.
an open wound can shape
the way you feel;
just like you never want me
when i'm here,
just like you always need me
when i'm not around.

but if you think i'll run to you,
you're wrong.
a heart that's broken once
needs time to heal;
you never say you're sorry
when i'm here,
you only seem to love me
when i'm gone.

do you know
when the party
begins to wear out,
when the laughters
don't burst as often,
and the fireworks
no longer ignite
in their eyes;
when the twilight
reminds of sunrise,
and their tongues
are too caught up
for talking?
when the clarity comes
with a bittersweet pill,
a prescription
from someone's pocket;
when the shatters of fun
are divided between,
when they lie
on the floor,
watch the couple
next door,
make some coffee
and make a scene;
when confetti
is covered in footprints
and balloons collect dust
in the corners,
and the fireworks
no longer explode
in their hearts;
do you know
when the party is over?

when the time comes
i want my story to be told
from a place of love,
i want to to know
that there was someone
somewhere
who gave a ****,
even if just a little bit.
please don't twist my words,
don't turn my intentions
into long-term plans,
'cause there is nothing long-term
about the way
somebody's life ends.
i used to have a vision
but at some point
i made a decision to try my luck,
so when the time comes
my only hope is
that my story is told by someone
who gives a ****.

we got married in a small church
outside a big city,
a building that saw better times,
surely,
but got on the time's bad side.
we believed that love could save us,
that love would set us free;
and a few years later
woke up, like strangers,
on the separate sides
of one bed.
where did that love go?
when did it disappear?
one doesn't walk
into the same river twice,
but falls for the same flaws,
same vices.
we shared our vows in a small church
outside a big city,
naive,
wrote them with our hopes,
tied them with gold.
a few years later,
where did that love go?

call me hopeless, but i'd rather sit here in silence,
letting the whirlpool of all the makeshift fears
bleed itself dry into non-existence
before i step out and show my face,
wondering if water damage might ruin the appeal,
diminishing the market value of this small business
selling dull knives and doors with no handles.
waiting for another chemical miracle to come through;
every failure should come with a free sample.
call me hopeless, but i'd rather sit this one out,
slipping away as lights approach from the distance,
holding my spot in line for another imminent breakthrough.

you say it's just who you are
and if i love you so,
i should be able to accept it,
i should be able to dissect
my own feelings,
pour some acid
and watch them dissolve.
but you see, love,
it's not true though,
and every little sacrifice
makes me diminish in your eyes,
as if it ever was a valid
reference point.
i refuse to be appraised,
i don't accept being sold.
let go of my hand.
guess what? life ain't fair.
so take your overpriced baggage,
all your emotional damage,
and **** it up.
it might sound cruel,
but if you want to be a grown-up
you should stop playing the fool.
no kiss goodbye,
no sweet farewell,
i guess you'll never get to learn
that this is who i really am.

why don't you ever
say it as it is?
pull down the curtains,
let the light shine through.
why don't you close your eyes,
why don't you break the kiss,
why don't you read my lips,
why don't you?
call from a different life,
tell me how good it feels,
that you just realized
there wasn't much to miss
without me by your side,
not very hard at all.
it must be pretty great,
but what do i really know?
why don't you ever
say it as it is?
pull down the curtains,
let the light shine through.
why don't you wake me up,
why don't you make up your mind,
why don't you break my heart?
why don't you?

she faded in people
that she had known,
vanished within them
without a trace.
and being asked
of who she's become,
she smiles and says
she no longer exists.
it's all of them
that carry her heart,
dispersed and shared,
but never replaced.
she faded in people
that she had loved,
vanished within them
without a trace.

i can't breathe without you,
i can't think without you,
i can't feel without you,
stranded on my own.
breathing hurts my lungs,
thoughts in disarray,
every day is bleak,
knowing that you're gone.
i can't love again,
i can't hope again,
i can't dream again,
all i want is you.
with a heavy heart,
stripped of all my faith,
every wish i have
brings me back to you.
and i tried to pray,
and i tried to drink,
and i tried to wait,
but you don't return.
so i take the time,
it takes all my strength,
learning how to live.
god, it's been so long
since i slept without you,
since i talked without you,
since i saw without you,
stranded on my own.
breathing hurts my lungs,
thoughts in disarray,
but i'm still alive
even though you're gone.

it gets better with time.
it gets easier to interrupt the chain reaction,
to stop following down the rabbit hole
of every first subconscious reaction
that triggers a well-tried response.
and if you don't give up on trying
the hope might just carry you through
and across the finish line.
what you have been suffering from
doesn't define you,
but it does get better with time.

my lips are cold,
but i still feel it burning,
the aftertaste of words
i didn't say.
i wish i knew
how to explain
this restless, hungry yearning
to be somebody's lover
for a day.

i feel like a fool
that you drove, blindfolded,
to a cliff in the middle of nowhere,
and asked
if i was going to step forward,
disappointed by my hesitation,
yet holding me back
with your cold hands.
and if i told you i knew
from the start
where we were going,
you'd probably leave me there
on my own.
but i feel like a fool,
a fool that loves you,
who'd take a long flight
over a short drive.
you asked
if i was going to step forward,
and the answer is
yes.

it's a feeling that hits you
in the back
like the firmness
of a stranger's handshake.
it's you.
it was always going to be you.
cold fingers beg
for some warmth,
and knees melt
at the very thought
of letting this one go.
and the temples pulse
in unison,
synchronized heartbeat
of the drums.
it's a feeling that hides
around the corner,
like the drunken haziness
of your mind.
it's you.
it was always going to be you.

i've been slipping into your skin;
what can i do when you expect
so much of me?
when you are all i want to be?
when i don't feel myself
whenever you're around?
and every cell inside my body screams
that you're the only one
i'll ever need,
and, piece by piece,
i'm losing more and more of me
just to get close to you.
i've been slipping into your life,
your heart,
your world,
tasting your touch.
what would it like to be you
just for a moment?
just for once?
i wish i could be good enough
to play the part you wrote for us;
i can't be me, and yet
i can't be you.
what can i do when you don't like
the way i am
when i'm not trying to please you?
what can i do when you expect
so much of me?
and you are all i want to be,
but even if i lay my life
down at your feet,
all that you'll ever love is you,
all that i'll ever be is me.

your image flickers in the dark,
you are so distant, yet so close.
i raise my hand to stroke your hair,
i try to hold this lifeless ghost,
but the illusion fades away
and leaves my loneliness exposed.
your image flickers in the dark,
you are so distant, yet so close.