a rockstar vibe and a cigarette on the lips

He’s all about coolness with his old school eletric guitar and tight pants. He gets all the girls with his indie vibe and boyish smile. He smokes nothing but Camels and has a girlfriend with short brown hair. Even though he never learned how to be humble nor had a real relationship with his parents, he’s still very in. There’s never much to say when he meet his older brother, but that’s okay.

He’s skinny and selfish – his girlfriend also is, so they get along really well. He dislikes the internet, thinking it’s an enormous waste of energy and time. He has a rock band because his parents can afford it. Music is his only passion: he doesn’t really love his girlfriend. He doesn’t know, but she doesn’t really love him too. Poor thing, he’s very hip yet very lonely.

He doesn’t understand his surrounds and feels empty most of the time, but his band is the best of the year. His dad is a lawyer who travels too much and his mother is a socialite who drinks too much. His girlfriend has the whitest skin he’s ever seen and it feels like pure silk when they make love. He doesn’t have much to say in interviews, but that’s okay, because his music speaks for him.

we might as well be strangers in another town

Her world doesn’t reach mine anymore, and we’re drifting apart slowly. Once friends, once lovers, we’re nothing but strangers today. It saddens us both, not being able to reach out anymore. My life has taken a very different path – and it doesn’t lead to her.

I even considered proposing, in a hot morning, when her hair was shining in the sun and we were laying on the green grass of a park. She was wearing a cotton dress and sounded fresh and calm, and I almost proposed when she looked into my eyes. She has blue eyes and brown hair, but I can barely remember how I felt when we were together.

We might as well be living in a different town. I don’t know her thoughts and she doesn’t know mine. I broke it off in a Tuesday,when the distance was killing me to the point of desperation. I couldn’t whisper I love you in her ear anymore, and I didn’t feel like holding her in my arms, so I ended everything. She cried and she didn’t understand, but it was for the best.

my bones will break and my heart will give

He’s tall and brave, with a large back and a stabbed heart. The one who breaks your heart is not the one who puts the pieces together, he says, in all his charm and glory. The man sitting beside him, wearing a dark coat and black shoes, agrees and sips a glass of cheap whiskey. They barely look in each other eyes as they talk about nothing too personal and nothing too taboo.

The hours go by; neither notice. They end up in a motel room; neither care. One of them is not even single; the other doesn’t know it. The goodbyes after are dry and cold. They don’t see each other ever again, and none gives a damn about it. They were not meant to fix each other.


She falls in love easily, and that is why she has had her heart broken so many times. She believes in love at first sight, in surrender, in complete trust and undying loves, and that is why she has had her heart broken so many times. She loves with all her heart and never holds back, doing what she feels like. She’s honest and true and probably one of the best persons anyone will ever meet, and that is why she has had her heart broken so many times. She’s completely hopeless, because she won’t change her ways. She knows she’ll keep on having her heart broken, but it’s worth it.


My heart was one, once;
only a few scratches here and there.
Then came the time
it was in too many pieces to count.

(I should’ve learned not to give my heart
to those who wouldn’t handle with care.
I guess you taught me this lesson pretty well.)

My heart was broken, once;
its small pieces lied everywhere in the ground.
Then came the time
and the people and the will to put it together.

(There are still those who will handle it with care
and I am glad they found me
and I am glad I took them in.)

My heart was hurt, once;
many – so many – pieces are still lost.
Then came the time
I accepted you were never coming back.


darling, oh darling –
please warm me up and hold my hand
for I cannot guide my pen like I used to.

darling, oh darling –
my writings are myself, my writings are my soul
if I cannot write, I cannot be.

darling, oh darling –
be my muse once again, amaze me one more time
I need to be whole again.

The Unspeakable

There is now this strange, empty gap between us. I can’t explain it rationally; please don’t ask me to do that. I can feel it, though. I can feel the unsaid, the misunderstood, the distance, the paths of our life pointing to several directions – directions that we had never imagined to be so far.

It makes me miss the time when we were one. When we saw each other everyday, when we knew what was happening in each other’s life. When our life experiences were quite alike. We could understand ourselves with nothing more than a look, a sigh, a touch. We saw each and every change that the other was experiencing.

There is a gap in our friendship and I don’t know how to deal with that. It didn’t take us six entire months to live such various experiences, in such different worlds, and compromise our everlasting bond. The tense seconds make me think we are know only a little bit more than sweet, caring strangers.

I don’t know… Maybe I’m overreacting. Maybe I’m just babbling. Maybe I’ve never been more right.


There are moments when reality seems pushed to its boundaries. When almost every feeling you have collapses, your existence fades, and everything gets so distant that you doubt the very reality of it all. You out of a sudden realised how small you are, and how you don’t really make a difference out there. You see the foolishness in your life. And, finally, you realize that my own subjective view of the world, my feelings and impressions are enough only to say you’re trapped in my mind.

You doubt the existence of everything, beggining with your own.

I wish I knew what this meant.


I always hold my breath,
for you have taken it forever.
You took my breath so
I only noticed
when you left.

You were-
Forget that.
We were supposed to last forever-
Forget that too.
Enough with you for now-
No. The memory of you will never fade.

I shall be always
holding my breath,
waiting you to come back.


What has happened to us, my love? When the fine line that some like to call “trust” was broken? When was the precise moment we became strangers?

Why did we even let it happen? How?