Lyrik
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Too many goodbyes
All the symphonies of white in circles around us —because powerless is all we are now —the shockwaves of our dying souls;the cold touch of a sea too dark to swim in,the damp remains of a sky never quite clear,forever so woozy my heart and so tired my eyes. A bucket of salt water washes
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how to carry a friend
to Ali ✟ I’ve compartmentalised all the sadness,there is too much to consume it all at once.Nervous possible futures dancing on my tonguemake me stutter airas the scream inside me grows and burstsmy lungs because for now, still, there ismore fear outside than pain inside.Introductions, powerfully meaningless,somewhere too far away from everything that was,over a
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And all those moments we shall never share
Particles of light I can almost touchwith my fingertips whistling down the roadin between preying raindrops and a fewmaple leaves from the park around the corner.Their syrup dropped off meatballs oncein a small pub several memories awaywhen the extent of all the seas on earthcouldn’t capture that single moment of sadness. So close to the
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Becoming
We’re hiding from torrential rain under sheets of yellowed truthsand twenty-one grams of soul, away from the gleaming sparksin the charcoal sky. We’re following our torchlight down the cave,sometimes we shiver in the damp hollowness and raindrops runround our rubber-like mouth corners indefensibly, slowly, lonely. The screams of heaviness and the laughter of tortured lives
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Tempus Edax Rerum
What if we could have livedfive hundred years, seenthe last starlight bursting between fingertips and cheeks,time begin as sleep fades away whileeyes sparkle skyblue in the morning raysexploding through the aluminium blinds as heartsskip one thousand beats, two for each year.What if we could have letdreams latch on to the smellof freshly brewed coffee from
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We live by the river
Seven three-quarter gnocchis they can’t pronounce,a bit of homesickness for Milano, the place of placesand German booze for flavouring.They play with balloons outsideand run past the reddish glowing riverthat has yachts and too many swansmoving upstream into seven three-quarter sunsets.We shout out loud our needfor more decent music and books orat least the odd Shakespeare
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The wrong side of relief
One day the sun will shatter,the clouds will mirror pasts undone,the world will only weigh seven stoneand I’ll have the strength to carry it all alone. The graveyards down the road are empty,it’s been too many centuries sincethe last petals withered.We are autumn and we are day,we are the memorial underneathand the monument up above.
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Symphony for Dreams in B Major
Drowsiness is trickling onto the sheets,the pocket watch ticking towards sleep,that truth serum which holds me downat night so I can walk up straight awake.I don’t want another image drawnof you by my subconscious –not of your green eyes, not of your scarf,not of your voice, not of your earrings. Quietly as my mind constructs
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Within Without
He throws her into the toilet booth, pulls her miniskirt downshe grabs the spliff from his mouth, rips the buttons of his jeans openno condom, no time, the DJ’s beats drum on from outside, fastershe grabs the boner, sticks in it, he starts thrusting, hardersweat dripping down from their faces, their bodies out of control,alcohol
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Goniochromism
Weave threads of undreamt lives,plunge starlight in a swan lake,save your reflection in a raindrop,and you’ll find every rainbow’s end. There’s nothing here for you to see,but the images you’ll draw with clouds.There’s nothing here for you to feel,but the longing that’s beating in your heart. Let sorrow simmer down two nights,sing a duet with
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∆
Did you plan this disappearance in pelletsof frozen rain exploding youinto a million rainbows? The tarmac curdled, the street lights shivered,the hail blazed past my eyes, blinded me, piercedthrough my powerless hands and held me down. No last words could be heard in the storm,none, it seemed, were even uttered. It was indeeda disappearance well
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Counting the Breaths
I can’t feel it now, moving down the streetcovered in potholes, once pretty paper cups,littered Lucozade and wafting weed.I can’t feel anymore, moving down this street. We’re trapped in emotional lockdown,sat in our own little compartments of hellwith opal glass windows. Ain’t that swell. I can’t feel it now, moving through the townshooting darkness everywhere,
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Thanatos
Sucked out into the empty spacetowards the pearly gates of hellwhere Hades awaits witha glass of Penderyn, or Jacques,maybe Lucid or a Graham Greene. What if it costs only a memory,any one of them, none in particular,what if I could get in so easily. Dragged across the purging firesacross the river Styx towardsnothing as exciting
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Rainbows in a teardrop
I have lived with a broken heart since she was bittersweet fifteen:her sunshine scars and the metal bars never hid her beauty,whether we were in Spain and Switzerland: I was just a dreamer.There’s all these parts of my past that you now will never know:the crushed tea leaves and your forty p are still lying
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Curled up
A square lake of doves flying off – now!Raspberry fields are being covered in raindropswhile I’m trying to leave sorrows to another day.There’s nothing more in these heartsthan a glimpse of the has-beenand the broken dreams scattered acrossthose mountaintops covered in snow.It was nice to see you. I’m jumping ship (under the train),out the window
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Montreal: Exit Guiltlessly and Namelessly
Shall we talk about dreams?The lonely snow flakes crashing downlike glass petals onto a concrete floorwhere candles have long replacedthe plastic light of neon tubes.Shall we talk about love?The forks dividing streams of bloodhammering luridly over the white keysthat stopped playing long beforeyou and I needed to be tuned. When I last saw lifeit swore
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Fading glow
We’re green dots spread across a starry night,we’re a blue sweater and a grey shirt togetherlike threads wovenby a shimmer of moonlightwhere we live the crazy lifeand wear lipstick without meaningand sing a divine comedy,eat only the orange smartiesand dance around in purple.We’re the train whistling,steaming,rememberingwhere we always came from.We’re the waking coldand the fireworks
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Saccherin, Splintering, Slowly
They’ll be recounting a thousand tales of how we shoveled ourselves free with coal-black fingernails. Of how we looked up at marble skies with tearing hearts and avaricious eyes. They’ll be telling it all: how we travelled twenty-five million miles in sixty-two seconds, young and proud as we were. How we lived on borrowed time
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Anastasia
Void slowly spreading through her veins —in the distance, already: humming from beyond.I can smell the blazing fire, the pyrecombusting three decades of love and hate,of memories like Billy bleeding out on cloud nine,of love and hate, of giving all hope away, of love.‘Scorpio’ said the chief but there was no solution:so the girl from
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∝
Sounds rippling through the pavement,images cracking across that one house,feelings meandering past windows. Berlin is a million heartbeats away –the city without memories. Untied shoes on broken walls,prosaic texts on plastic phones,rotten butterflies on shaky hands. Stockholm is a memory away –the city of a million heartbeats. Scents fragmenting the gardens,touches slivering that one front
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Passacaglia
A slowly dripping sound of crashing waves,a viscous laughter of a love just lost —how memorable they were,her feet that sing and smile that dances,how memorable they were,her eyes that soothe and voice that sparkles,how memorable they were. Pasar una calle. Only a walk down the street. A loudly fading sound of waterfalls,a viscous laughter
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There’s a storm coming
Your love has torn it, made mine irrelevant.I’m tearing myself away from you,your scarifying mittsand eight millimeter eyes.Your syringe tonguethat injected hydrochloric acidand orange haze into me,cauterising every cell,onebyone. I would have walked away fromthe world together with you.You fooled me into stayingand then you slipped away.So this, I choose, will be the end,but not
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Glück
Sie sagt, das mag ich so an dir, und legt ihren Kopf gegen deinen Arm.Sie schläft neben dir ein, und dir wird klar was du alles für sie tun würdest.Sie sagt, mein neuer Freund sieht aus wie du, und du findest das okay.Sie lächelt und legt ihre Hand auf deine Wange.Sie sagt, ich werd dich
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Stars Are But The Light Of Dead Suns
Take my heart and break it or doto it whatever you fancy. You arethe loneliness who could need lifeor just something to play with and Idon’t need this heart no more becauseI tried giving it away to someone whomight have taken care of it butwho didn’t want to in the end. That’salright. I closed my
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Horror Vacui
Memories withered and fallen off my soul,my heart burned to cinders, the lightin my eyes diffused on an empty canvas —in the distant softly echoes an infernal choirsurrounded by shattered lives.It takes two steps back to seemy image blur away in eternal mirrors,two steps forward to slow it down. A crushing sound and empty spacesaround
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Falling, slowly
I’m known to walk through parks on my ownto imagine worlds I’ll never see —where stars are a light shining through puncturesin the black sky, where a child’s laughter is the song of life,or where street lights are beacons to lone souls.Where humans fly with seagulls from shore to shore,or where pain is an alien
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From Where Snow Still Buries Whole Houses
It’s the way you say andwhen you’re annoyed, your questioning lookwhen I make fun of you,the way you try to pronounce Prostand then say skoal instead.It’s the way you nudge me when I’m standing at the tilland don’t immediately notice you walking past,it’s the way you wave hello and how you hate coffeebut love tea.
