Suicide

So many memories
appear out of no where
urging me to speak my mind
to demand for the untold answers.
My mind and soul are on different sides
they yell and fight over my future.
My eyes look red with tears
the memories stabbing me with love.
Love which I saw so many times
which I embraced happily.
Love which now gives me pain
which now I hide away from fearfully.
Millions of obstacles crowd around me
whispering to me to pass them.
I want to lift my head high
and crush them all
but I'm broken, and can't seem to be fixed,
So, I decide to die.

Past

Was the time you spoke to me sweet words
an illusion in which all of that I heard?
Those radiant smiles,
were they sights I saw when I was day dreaming, staring at the bedroom tiles?

Were the memories of you accepting me as the one you loved
something you now take as a thought to lock away a something you vowed?
I'm not in dreamland, where I see you and you always.
You must consider my sadness,
which is like the clouds covering the rays of the sun.

Farewell

The words you whispered in my ear
when we sat together on Thursday evenings
are disappearing from my memory.

The picture of your constant smile,
which you always had on when I cried
is being torn and thrown away.

I thought and always said
that we'd always be there for each other,
so why is your support fading?

Maybe there is an inner voice
which suggests I move on
and not keep on thinking of the past.

But even though you're going away,
you left a part of you in me
so I'd never forget you.

THE KNOWN AND THE UNKNOWN

Should I turn my secret away, 
from the person who it is unknown to? 
What is unknown to the person 
is a mystery too hard to solve. 
Of course to me 
it's like an article in the daily newspaper. 
What if the person who itis unknown to 
finds out what is unknown? 
If it is me who tells the unknown 
 to the person who it is unknown to, 
then the unknown fact is now completely known. 
But if another tells the unknown 
to the person who it is unknown to, 
it won't be completely known, 
because the unknown fact is my secret, not of the another. 
Best if the known 
is unknown to those not needed.

Change

I have changed.
I keep changing,
but this change I cannot keep up with. 
I feel claustrophobic,
in this open space I feel chained, trapped,
I feel like I am suffocating,
I can feel the air freezing in my body;
the burning in my chest
is worse than a forest fire;
my limbs, unwilling,
move because I need them;
nothing yields to me any more,
my talents are slipping through my fingers like sand,
my priorities have fallen off the pedestal,
my state of mind hangs dangerously
between reality and imagination.

Imagination

I imagine,

that somewhere in a busy place,

I work for the bare necessities of life,

and knowing me,

I would dive myself crazy for the sake of others.

I imagine,

one day outta the blue,

I would come home in tears,

for some reason what so ever,

and I would sit on the cold, tiled floor,

and stare at the space in front of me.

I imagine,

you sitting there, a smile on your face,

a cigarette in between your fingers,

your eyes sad, with tears filling up in them,

and your free hand rested on mine.

I imagine,

your tears drying up,

and the cigarette being thrown away;

your voice sounding close to my ear,

your arms wrapped around my shoulders,

my tears falling to the floor.

I imagine,

you telling me that you will always be there for me,

telling me that my tears are worth a million,

telling me that there is no harm in crying,

telling me that however I am, you will never desert me.

Now, here I am,

where you are,

and I long for my imagination to become a reality,

I long for you to hold onto me,

and never let me go.

I am asking for this,

even though it may not be possible,

but there is this spark of hope in me,

that keeps me going…

You fill everything apart from reality,

so if I get some peace out of it,

what’s the harm in losing myself in my imagination?

My Johnny Depp

He smiles, laughing quietly.

I can't say anything about him,

he's a mystery to me.

but what I do,

is tell the world what this mystery means to me...

He's my Johnny Depp,

a person who I know I will never know,

yet a person I admire like hell,

think about all the time

wonder why he is the way he is...

I've never seen him surrounded by smoke,

like people say he usually is,

and I don't understand it at all,

but even if I yearn to change him for the better,

he is what he is, and I should not change something so authentic...

Unlike Johnny Depp,

he knows I exist,

and I feel like something real special,

when he snaps away from his world,

and looks deep into my eyes...

I don't understand,

why he looks at me like that,

with his scary, unique eyes,

and yet doesn't say a word,

not one fucking word...

I could be hallucinating,

I must be hallucinating,

but a guy like him, someone as special as him,

can make anybody feel like they are flying,

even if he isn't...

My Johnny Depp is right here,
everyday, around me.
He may not want to see me,
he may be in a lot of everything,
but he always manages to brighten my day...