I'm singing in the shower
Waiting for the hours
To pass me by
I would've brought you flowers
If this love had been ours
But you're not mine.
Oh,
And I don't know what to say
You're gonna fade away
So soon,
So soon
I'll love you anyway
But you're not here to stay
My moon,
My moon...
Tell me why I cried for your arms
Tell me why I'm begging for your love
Tell me how I'll live a broken life
Tell me how the hours will pass me by
Without you,
Without you.
I'm still singing in the shower
My breath turning sour
This love couldn't be ours,
And that is life.
Rants for my lover,
For an afternoon in summer:
I want to live a happy life
I don’t want to be only crying
I want to be yours, I wanna be mine
I want flowers, and your time
I want me to be worth your while
I want to succeed, I wanna try
I want this and I want that.
I love you to the moon and back.
In a sunlit sky, your rainbow eyes
Take me to ancient gardens
I was born in your hair, and the gods stood there
I turned your life into madness
No scriptures, no songs, no story of us
We were soon forgotten
A goddess birthing a mortal being
A scandal, and a problem
You worked alone, you fought for me
The sun slept and you toiled
I cried in my crib, my tears shining
Lit by the midnight oil.
I hold your hands, I want that strength
That fed me, clad me, soothed my cries
I’m basking in your luminescence,
Your goddess-esque motherly smile.
To all mothers with absent help
With babies a bit different,
To all goddesses outcast, but strong
I offer you my little song.
My basket’s all empty
I’d filled it with memories
But now it is empty, they’re gone
I’d left it all open
I think they got stolen
So I need to make some new ones
Oh
I want to be hopeful
I want to be kind
I want to get out of
My sad little mind
I’m trying my hardest
I want to be found
I think I’ll stay afloat
But what if I drown?
My basket’s all ready
To be filled up anew
I am still waiting,
I don’t know, for whom
Oh
I want to be hopeful
I want to be kind
I want to get out of
My sad little mind
I grasp at the breeze
For bubbles to pop
I’m thankful for heartbeats
Which did not stop
I stand with my basket
I stand here alone
I am not empty
I will soon go home
Yes I will make memories
I will find friends
I will smell roses
And happiness
I will come back once
I’m empty again
I’ll sing my sad song
And rest in my pain
Goodbye, passer-by
You have been kind
You listened to my song
I’d lost my mind
Maybe another day
I’ll run into you
For now, I’m happy
I wish you are, too!
Violent colours dancing on your face
I watch from afar
I look away
Violent colours stabbing my heart
The leaves are swaying
Hair strands gripped on to your sweaty face
I remember your anecdotes
I remember you doted on me
I remember it all
How did I have no eyes back then?
The poets and singers lament my foolishness
He is standing next to you
My stomach is upset with rage
As he removes the silk strands from your face
I mourn our days
Sunlight leaking through leaves
My once-negligent heart now twisting and turning
Oh what I wouldn’t give now
To have it all back
I look at my palms and I look at your face
You and your new friend begin to move away
I am empty with a shell for a heart,
Cursing myself for letting you go
Wondering about how could I not know
I cannot bear staying apart.
Give me a cushion, I’ll lay your head.
You think you’re useless, but I’m not dead
I’ll hammer in some sense, my God,
You’re a fucking treasure!
I love your work, your art, your thoughts
Your pain and your pleasure
Cry all you want, here, take some ice-cream
You can, always, come crying to me
I’ll tell you some new jokes for myself to laugh at
So you’d smile too; for me that’s enough, and
I love you like family, my friend,
You say you love me too
We’re fucking amazing
At most things we do!
Or maybe just some things, who cares, right?
Let’s listen to some music and we’ll be just fine.
There’s more than what meets the eye
Didn't you say, you were mine?
The clock will strike twelve, where will you go then?
In the dark, I will not look for you anymore
I have never looked for anything but my reflection
My yellowing pages are all about me
I can let go of new chapters
I can let go of pages before they decay
I will not ask you to stay
Forever is too long, the ink will dry out
The clock strikes twelve, almost
It’s time to turn into our ghosts
There was more than what met the eye
No matter,
I am great at goodbyes.
I think I am happy, I wrote some new songs.
I love the sunsets, and where I come from,
There is much beauty but there is more evil
It hurts to look, and when you do see them
You blame all mankind, you refuse to exist
You can’t solve a thing, not those you wished
Your friends might still love you
Wrap you with smiles
But so many unhappy,
The disparity in lives-
But I think I’m happy. I just wrote some songs
I know I can’t really right all the wrongs
I’m glad for friendships, for family as well
We live in our fights and the cold war spells
Let’s have some chocolates. You want some tea?
I think I am happy, and I want you to be
Glad that you met me, glad that you’re here
Tapping on the moment, spreading some cheer
I’m glad to have met you; I’ll write you a song
I’m starting a journey, friend. Won’t you come along?
I make fun of his love
And his cheesy 2 a.m. poetry
He's chased her for six long years
And it doesn't make any sense to me
I say, I might be dead in six years
How did your love not die?
He says, he needed the six years
To be able to survive his life
That she reminded him of soft sunsets:
I reminded him, she was cold
He insists on her rosy pictures.
Oh, love and its blindfolds...
I laugh but he knows I'm crying
How does it feel to be loved? I ask
I wish I'd caused six moments of longing
At least six seconds, perhaps
I remember those who said they liked me
After six minutes of mindless chats
I remember being amused and flattered
But never moved by any of that
I never felt connected, I tell him
He asks me if I felt stuck
Yes, I didn't feel loved, I say,
In any case, not loved enough
I suppose it's just me, I finally say,
But I think it's too soon to conclude
He says he'll chase money now
Chasing love is of no use
We bond over our lovesick hearts
Our fragile little friendship starts
As we wait six years, both of us
To woo or to be wooed.
My silences are sprinting
They're so many, at once
There's a pimple on my wooden face
Waiting to be burst
But the silences come first
They threaten me with an explosion
I can already smell ashes
Grey, spotty, flaky, and choking
A ruined world remaking
No I'm not romanticizing
Someone else's war
All my problems are mine, okay?
My jarred edges
Reek of stale cynicism
My unlit mind
Damp and resistant to hope
I try to look like I care
Resharing brutal news
Replaying the victims' tears
I mimic activism
Lying passive in my bed of privilege
Unremarkable in my performative concern
As I think to myself
The world will always stretch, tear and burn
I am throwing my words around
Because I like their gibberish sounds
They're hurdles for the silent beams
That are racing towards me
And I don't want to be found.
mimimusing 