love as a formula

some of us look for love
some of us don't
sometimes love finds us
sometimes it don't
beyond that..

I got nothing

in this moment

my present is nothing
without my past
my tomorrows are empty

without what I have learnt today

my yesterday is the foundation

without which I would fall

yet my future is still nothing 

without you

let me be clear

it was you babe
well I thought it was
but the chips fell over there
not here
you were the morphine I needed
I was ready to unhook
but in the end
it was someone else that caught your heart
there is no next time
no second chances
but let me be clear
though you can't hear me anymore

it was you babe

alea iacta est

I walked the cold days
I walked the warm
but from the moment they put that label
on my ankle
and until the day they fix that label
to my toe
I will not mourn my dying light
for these lavender dreams
will make me fall
soundly
deeply
but upon the bottom
I will arise within the sun's promise
and as its shadow chases my life
I will keep carving out this dream
that wraps itself within my heart
and even in the loneliest of my smiles
I will keep the warmth
for those that suffer more
"alea iacta est" the defeatists say
but no mould cast me
I have no nature
or course to steer
and now as I hurtle towards my end
I know with utmost certainty
I was born without fear

fuck it

a man who falls easily
this is not me
a man who laments love
this is not me
a man who hangs his head
this is not me
a man who has something to prove
this is definitely not me
a man who just smiles, shrugs and says "fuck it"
now that's me

breaking apart

everything I have done
everything I have seen
and now know to be true
is sometimes too much
for my heart to contain
so I search for someone
to be honest with
to share what I feel
and what I have learnt
to finally unload this weight
and find once again
the courage to live
in a world that does not care

the wrong one

there is no soul
just a mind inhabited by fractured thoughts
replaying days
replaying words
until longing meets madness
but age tempers wisdom
until finally in the dark
pressed against a pillow
we admit to ourselves
without reservation
that there is no truth but this
light will fold into our eyes
and our desire will whisper defeat
then in the hands of time
her face will dry and crumble beneath my feet
like autumn leaves