self-destruction

Against the world


Cotton waves

Cover you slowly and softly,

You are bare and  insecure;

A delicate complexion will be covered with freeze and snow.

You feel the sheets sliding against your still wet body.

You are wrapped into a blanket,

Put on a hospital bet, and now you are being carried to the laboratory.

I remember your confused look

When they were taking you away and myself –

running next to the bed, holding you hand and having to let go as the laboratory door closed.

Your last scream “Don’t leave me alone!!!”

Will stay in my head and haunt me until I forget who I myself am.

Last words.

They continue living in your memory,

Activating the self-destruct mechanism

Set long ago deep inside the ribcage, which will go off

At the time when it is expected the least.

I will trigger the mechanism and push all the buttons.

We will continue shining and lighting everything up

Until the whole world is on fire.

Us against the fire.

Us against the world.

Umbrellas


Cubicle of the room.

I look out of the window;

I see umbrellas

And endless rain frozen in the air.

There are no doors in my cubicle.

Drops don’t let the air in.

Less and less oxygen left.

The umbrellas keep moving.

I am watching them move

As my face becomes pale.

Beating against the glass and walls,

But the fate has been determined.

I cover myself with white paint

To match the walls

And dissolve in the cubicle.

Lack of oxygen shows;

I am blue.

I am lonely.

Every umbrella is in a separate cubicle,

Each is slowly suffocating.

I choose to end it quicker.

I dissolve in white paint.

Little things


Sometimes you look outside the window and see it.

Everything around is as ugly as it can ever get: that mixture of construction sites and shiny polished ‘wannabe skysrapers’. All of that makes me want to turn my guts inside out; and yet there’s something about it. Something fascinating, something that makes me like looking at city lights at night from the window.

Sometimes I find it interesting to watch the fight of ash dark thunder sky and mottled building roofs; fierce clouds  act like they want to devour rooftops, rain drains from them like saliva of a hungry animal, and the mighty roar echoes in the most remote corners of this overfilled land.

My brain is constantly struggling between sending everything to hell and falling down from the 14th floor facing the roadway, and peacefully contemplating the flickering lights of Baiterek. What’s making the struggle keep on? Why haven’t I already made a choice in favor of the roadway? Who the ff*** knows.

Those little things… the little things that make me want to forget that I hate it all; ones that make me want to forget about the self-destruct process that was initialized long ago, and even if I still remember about it, they make me want to push the ‘pause’ button.

I’ve started noticing small details that enchant me; they give me thoughts that I later turn into poems, or that make me frozen for half of the day. They leave a strange aftertaste, and I still can’t understand what it is. Something elusive, something addictive, something that keeps me puzzled. Hell, I’m always puzzled. Always.

Experimentor


Let me pull your drawers out;

I want to see what’s going on

In that head of yours,

What’s hidden behind

That innocent child face.

I’ll play with your neurons,

Watch your muscles contract,

And learn all of you.

It’s fun toying with your unstability,

Beholding the fade of the light

In your clear trustful eyes.

My touch is detrimental

To the heavenly surface of your shoulders;

I hurt you just by looking at you.

I watch you destroy yourself,

And I’m amused by all of it.

I just hope I’ll have time

To study you until the end,

Before you perish in your own misery.