Author: weirdandwhite

I like writing, that's it.

Qbic


Blurry.

Funky music. French accent.

Friendly smile.

A small universe in every glass.

Pale all evening.

Crafted mood.

Lonely soul.

Hexagon on the floor.

Time is too slow.

Wishes of time travel

Are as untrue as a cake.

Slow steps back.

Cold room.

Creaking floor.

Empty bed.

Illusion of warmth.

2959.

So much until I smile again.

So little.

So much.

29082018.

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A little longer


Eyes are open.

No more time;

It does not matter right now.

One moment.

Arms meet around

My shoulders;

Morning sunshine

Is still too weak.

Piano ritual.

It’s calling to go;

Limbs are too heavy.

The seconds before movement

Should last

Just a little longer;

A little more of you,

A little more of us.

After all,

It is what helps

To survive horrors

Of every day.

Hologram


A pile of damaged memories

Gets bigger every time

I think about it;

Cannot forget,

Cannot make it disappear.

All that is left

Is to set fire to myself

And watch it all burn with me.

Crimson embers,

So warm and useless;

Mixing with the images

And dead pixels –

Misunderstood?

Worn out?

Displaced?

I am the odd one out,

Faced with the aftermath

Of the repressed.

A cheap hologram

Of the last truths.

Do not intervene,

Let the embers turn to dust

And spread to others’ minds,

As this is the only freedom

That I will ever get.

Malachite


Lights flicker

In sync with my heartbeat;

Arhythmic waves enfold

And cushion.

Osmium eyelids are

Closing uncontrollably,

Leaving me unable to stay awake.

The vision.

Green shades fill the cave;

They shine through the metal eyes

I have still been unable to move.

You are here.

I cannot see, yet I know what

Is in front of me.

The masterpiece;

Meticulously polished malachite shapes,

Soft curves, and green dust.

The arrhythmia has become

Too powerful to contain.

I can see the faint images

Of stones and blades

Covered in granules;

Breathing is becoming heavier than

My eyelids. I know,

You are moving closer to me.

I no longer need my eyes to see

What I have encountered.

Your sweet copper breath

Gives me shivers,

Paralysing my vital systems.

You were born of destruction,

Torn from where you were meant to be.

I will happily face my fate

As your face comes closer to mine.

For I am just a simple miner

Who came to your mountain

Without being invited.

And as my breath diminishes into nothing

With every passing second

You graciously touch my lips with yours

And I can feel the smooth malachite hand

Sliding into my hair.

You are the queen of this mountain,

And I am but a slave

To everything you are,

Spending the eternity

With the nature’s masterpiece.

Crimson


I look at the defenseless body,

Smug face,

Burgundy lipstick

Smeared off your thin,

Smirking lips.

My fist has the leftovers of it

Mixed with blood,

Yours and mine.

With every punch I throw at you

The anger recedes,

Leaving the fake righteousness

And a calmer breath.

It was not my place to mutilate you;

Just as much it was not yours

To lay where you did.

And as your face turns crimson

And covers the burgundy,

I tell you, it suits you better

Like this.

Aurora


Sing to me.

Sing the song of the painful past,

Of the irreversible damage,

The hot tears.

Captivating melody

Is making my heart ache

Like it has never done before.

Eyes open to a clear night sky

Strewn with stars.

I see you shine with them

Releasing blue streams;

Aurora reflecting in them

Takes me farther away

Into a place

Where there are only

Us and the song;

The beautiful song of tears

And pain.

Soon the melody will stop,

Leaving you and me

Looking into each other’s eyes,

Seeing the sky, the northern lights,

And eternity in them.

 

 

Doom


We the loneliness,

We are the pain;

Hand in hand we walk

Through the pained consciousness

Of this city.

So useless to glue the pieces

Of your broken sunshine,

The screams will be absorbed

By the Moon waves,

Bringing the old aches of loss.

No one will hear,

No one will care.

Instead you will receive

A new child to carry;

Growing every day,

Enclosing you into its embrace,

Smothering your hope;

The name is guilt.

This twisted smile,

As the last attempt to appear strong,

Will be sucked out with a straw

And spat back on the ground;

Watch it.

Do not resist,

Do not hide;

There is no reason trying to postpone

What has already stepped on your welcome mat.

Your ticket to hell has arrived,

And the travel is not optional.

Calm the tears,

The blame is all yours to keep.

The doom awaits.