Friday
14/05/15 02:14
Wednesday
life in a jar
shame is the silence when she asks you
what you've done in the five weeks you haven't spoken.
i got dressed, you want to say,
took a shower every day and didn't forget to eat.
i raised my hand in class once, didn't stutter. andsometimes,
sometimes i wore a dress with high heels underneath,
walked with my head held so high,
i felt like royalty.
but i haven't seen the sunset while someone held my hand,
and i can't remember the last time a boy kissed me.
and most of the time, i'm so tired
breathing feels like a full-time job i'm just not good at.
so there's the truth in a five-second pause, in a laugh
and a shrug and a little white lie.
so there's the shame, the shame in running out of words,
realising you've been living in an airtight jar, and not knowing how to explain
the whole world seems so big from down here.
nog even
kom voor het te laat is
voor ik me het ergste ga bedenken
voor mijn hoofd me weer verraad
kom nu, snel
haast je, je kunt nu naar binnen glippen
me vast houden voor ik je naam weer vergeet
en het alarm weer aan wordt gezet
grijp je kans, ik smeek het je
want het is zo lang geleden
sinds we voor elkaar konden zitten
en ik je zag zoals je was.
nu kunnen we elkaar aanraken,
je bent nu geen roofdier,
ik zal me niet terugtrekken voor jou.
je zult me geen pijn doen.
haast je, want met de tijd glip je weg.
ik wil niet dat je gaat
kunnen we gewoon nog even zitten?
kun je me voor nu beloven
dat je me zult terughalen als het moet?
dat je zult blijven als ik zeg dat je moet gaan?
nu ben ik er nog, alsjeblieft,
blijf nog even.
blijf nog heel even.
antinous
because in your face he might read
your sleepless nights,
hear the prayers of the days where it gets so dark
you try to believe in anything
other than cracked glass
and nicotine.
do not let your looks wander,
because he will see the truth
in the shadows beneath your eyelids
he will hear the telltale slur in your words
slip up and call him a god to his face
(he will not remember,
he will not, he will not remember
you.)
he is a figure of light,
a creature of good and truth
and like an oil spill,
you will rob him off his shine
eventually.
do not let him see you stare
if he sees, he will know
you would bleed for him,
die for him.
(and you will,
you will.)
but he will never look your way,
like a magnet he sticks to the worthy
polishes his words on the brave and willing
and like an anchor that pulls a ship to shore
your hands cling to a bottle again
and again.
here's another drink to last the night,
without him, a drink to keep it
all at bay.