not alone

when life hits
it hits hard:
closed up fists,
broken wrists,
shaterred guard.

cuts might heal,
scars remain:
broken feel,
shattered will,
closed up pain.

human hearts,
fragile things:
shattered shards,
closed up scars,
broken strings.

through it all
you have friends:
make the call,
break the fall,
let them help.

joc nocturn

noaptea se-alinta-n liliac
in flori de mov
si gene-ascunse-n somn,
in tic de ceas si tac
de frica sa n-o sperii
cu gandul meu de om.

n-ai cum sa vrei sa prinzi
o clipa-asa perfecta
in podul palmei ca pe un sarut
cand sute de oglinzi
n-o-ncap in amanunt.

Two sides of a coin

I'd judge you by my image...
but even though we're cut from the same cloth
we're different measures:
I'm latte with 2 sugars while you're black coffee.
I see the fault and act to correct it
while you give out second chances and try to heal it
but we'd both do whatever it takes for friends.
As you raise your voice
I lower mine
but we both know
we could easily scream the windows into pieces.
You'll hold my hand while I get my tattoo
and I'll walk the aisles with you to buy a book,
for though they don't appear the same
they're both pieces of art.
And as you fall
we'd first laugh
and then I'd pick you up,
because you need to make fun of yourself
every once in a while;
as I'd encourage you to make your own mistakes...
how else would you learn otherwise?
Bottom line: I'm glad we're different
but not fundamentally so,
because arguing with myself all the time
would be god damn boring!

"we mortals are but shadows and dust"

for we are filled with butterflies
and this life doesn't come back twice
no second thoughts should cloud our mind
we'll have it all,
we'll kiss and fight,
we'll swear, we'll smile, we'll run and hide
but we will never be denied.
this life is ours for the taking
and if you think that I'm mistaking
then run along inside your box
just close it tight and turn the lock.
leave us be to feel, to dance,
to dream of colors and romance,
to make mistakes, to fear, to cry,
to learn to love and say goodbye,
to question everything and try
to do it all in this short life
for we are made of butterflies...

every once in a while

lately I found that my patience wears thin
and ever so often the monster within
wants to crawl out hissing and scratching
and try as I like I can't always stop it.
it's self preservation more than anything else
because keeping it hidden takes up immense
force and power of will
so I thought to myself: why not let it escape and take part in the kill?
why not savor the moment and blow off some steam,
why deny it when I could join in the scream?
so every once in a while when it gets way too much
when the whining won't stop
just before that last drop hits the brink of the glass
I open the cage and give it free pass.
so it starts...
snarling and growling and stalking the prey
reaching to grab, swiftly pulling away
mastering the timeless game there's to play:
hide and seek, cat and mouse, always catching the strey
never missing a queue or skipping a beat
lounging teeth first at the neck of the weak.

I heard that

I heard you the first time you petulant prick
but chose to ignore you and the sheer load of bullshit
escaping your mouth.
you're talking the talk but the walking falls short
and to lead by example means to put in the work,
the sweat and the time and above all
to forget about "mine" and start thinking "all",
"ours" or simply "the team".
to give you a hint: they're the ones solving stuff
while you're living the dream.
so spare me the drama and the fountain of crap,
spare me the sob story that's about to be spat
with the same mean mean world
and the poor puddy cat
who should have and could have everything in it's grasp
but waited for it to magically fall on it's lap.

towards the slaughterhouse

look! see?
a sea of cows
walking in sync towards the slaughterhouse.
dreaming green pastures and poppies bright red
they're all wanting something but that's not what they'll get.
they're all looking at it but not processing yet
and that temporary blindness will cost them their heads.
because dreaming and wanting are powerful tools
only when not in the hands of the fools.
that's when they blind and they twist
and they shatter good sense
turning friends into foes
starting tense conversations that don't always end well
changing moods, calling blackness that will never dispel.
it's a spell or a curse or a mixture of both
but the warning remains
like a dent on a thought.

so dream 'cause we need dreamers to reinvent life,
to make it more daring
but don't throw caution aside:
getting yourself way in over your head
might cause you, quite fast, to lose it instead...

It's not goodbye, just... farewell

I bid you warm farewell my very fucked up friend
we'll meet again in hell or better yet: not ever.
'cause hell implies forever
and that's a strong commitment I don't intend to take
for your and my own sake.

Farewell to all you friends
that just don't comprehend and ever fail to see
that I don't have the time, much less the energy
to always bathe in drama as fun as it may be.
Might work for firsts and seconds
but when the hundredth time comes and you say this
"my life, my choice, just mine, just me, just take it as it is"
try and consider this:
It might not work.
It might just be the mood, perhaps the outside wheather,
the ever so annoying tick tock of the clock
or might just be the fact that every time you say it
it's an excuse to act,
to say whatever and never owning up.

I don't intend to preach 'bout life and all that's fair
but I can see this
slowly and surely getting there 
so I'll conclude as such:
"we are all past the age of playing truth or dare
or using poor excuses like - in love and war all's fair".