broken

for my saint

i wish
he knew

sometimes
the sun on my horizon rises black
and sets

the raindrops of my colors bleed although i turn them into poems

i'm always on the run
with wine
with men
with poetry
(whatever... i don't care)
in dreams shared in a locker with no name no key
fleeing away from myself
into oblivion

i'm trying to forget the fear the pain the changes
so scared that life
my life
is closing down
right now

but in the stillness of the fading days
i hear
his heart

the music and the silence of his blood
are mirrored in my veins

i am the one to weave
his stories into words
in winter of his hair

i wish he knew

© Aleks 2012



Datum objave: 23. 11. 2012