There's this light inside of me that you just don't seem able to see

At the end of the day you're left all alone with yourself.It's just yourself with your happiness, your tears, your hopes or your fears. At the end of the day it's just you and a big mirror.At the end of each day you have to stand brave and look at yourself in your own mirror. And it is the most scarry thing you have to go through all the way. Because you know that for each of your fears you have to search deep inside and give yourself the hand that will help you raise above it all.For each of your tears there is nobody else that can understand what lies beneath, and no hand but your own can wipe the tears in such a way that will help you heal.But then again, stading in front of this big mirror will always make you see that no pain will totaly vanish; not with time, not with somenone else, not by forgetting. And that is the moment when you start really looking in the mirror for something inside of you that will help you grow roses around this ugly fence of darkness. And you have to keep looking behind all the existing fences until you find something inside of you that will keep you going. Because at the end of the day there is no one left to keep telling you it will be all right.And whenever you crumble under the weight of your own pain you have to look at yourself in the mirror down on your knees and still find the way to get back up.
At the end of the day there is no one there to laugh with you. For no one else in the world does your happiness mean the same. There is absolute no one out there that knows how you feel.Because being happy is something that we all live through but we never feel what anyone else feels. And at the end of the day you have to see in your mirror your big smile, and be brave enough to accept that no one else will know that you feel that way, that you are left all alone even in your moments of joy. All those inner smiles will never be the ones on your face, or even the ones in your eyes. At the end of the day you have to know that your and your soul are the only ones that will ever know the amount of happiness you can feel.
At the end of the day you have to face your dreams. You have to bury some of them, you have to stand alone by thier grave knowing they will never be alive. You have to find strenght somewhere down deep to grow wings for all of the ones still left breathing. Their is no harder thing that you have to go to sleep with than believing in your own dreams for one more day. No one will blow wind for their wings to fly, no one will push them forward. Stading in front of your own mirror you are the one left to chose how to paint your destiny. And in the face of uncertainty, of fear and unknown you have to step in the darkness all alone. And for every decission you make you have but yourself to judge and to punish rigtheously. And it takes far more bravery than making a wish come true judging if your wish deserves to come true, and how many people would be left hurting if you chose to cheat at judging yourself.
At the end of the day you are left all alone with who you are. And you have to be brave enough to love yourself in such a way that you will nourish and take care of yourself to become something more, something better. At the end of your day you are left all alone with your disappointments,with your pain, your moments of grace, with your every breath.
At the end of the day you are all alone in this world. And it will never stop being petrifying scarry.

Nu are cum

Cand un fluture iubeste un balon nu prea are cum sa iasa bine. Oricat de colorat ar fi balonul, niciodata pentru fluture nu va fi o floare. Si oricat de mult ar incerca fluturele sa convinga balonul sa stea cu el, balonul va zbura mai sus.

Cand un pom iubeste o floare nu prea are cum sa iasa bine. Oricat de sus se va inalta copacul tot ii va tine umbra florii. Si oricat de mult se va deschide floarea niciodata nu va putea cuprinde cu privirea pe de-a-ntregul pomul.

Cand un fir de nisip iubeste marea nu prea are cum sa iasa bine. Oricat de des se va lasa spalat de valuri tot inapoi pe plaja va fi adus firul de nisip. Si oricat de linistita va fi marea niciodata nu-l va putea culege-n valuri doar pe el.

Cand o pasare iubeste cerul nu prea are cum sa iasa bine. Oricat de inalt va incerca sa zboare pasarea, niciodata nu va putea managaia cu aripile cerul. Si oricat de mult s-ar intinde cerul niciodata nu va putea cuprinde in brate zborul pasarii.

Cand luna iubeste soarele nu prea are cum sa iasa bine. Oricat de mult ar colora soarele cerul la apus niciodata luna nu il va vedea cu adevarat. Si oricat de multe stele ar stinge pentru el, luna nu va fi niciodata suficient de calda pentru a lasa o urma de scrisoare pe cer la rasarit.

Cand doua maini iubesc un chip nu prea are cum sa iasa bine. Oricat de mult ar mangaia chipul niciodata nu vor putea pastra in palme zambetele si tristetea. Si oricat ar incerca buzele niciodata nu vor putea acoperi fiecare amprenta cu saruturi.

Cand doua inimi care nu se cunosc se iubesc nu prea are cum sa iasa bine. Si totusi cateodata se intalnesc.

Falling on broken dreams(21)

Days go by like months and all I can do is breathe. Breathe with the hope that running away from me won't hurt, hoping that seeing me say goodbye to myself won't brake to much of my soul. Just breathe,like tomorrow will find me in a different place, stronger and holding hands with smiles. Breathe and pretend it does not hurt, patient for the clouds to start pouring their rain over the dust of my memories. Days go by like pages in a book too old to still be lived but too new to have been written. Page by page I tear pieces of my soul and give them away with smiles and when happiness forgets its pain I remmember I have none left. All I have I give away and sometimes I can see me in your eyes. Days go by like no tomorrow will ever come too late. But chances are not fair, and love has become a gambling game. And some have run out of luck.Owning happiness is not a right but merely a chance. And days go by like years on a row. And days like this are just too soon to forget having once dreamed of a hand that could paint smiles. Two in the morning is just not an hour to be alone and thoughts will never stop trying to evade you.
Days go by and pieces of shred soul lie on the floor.And then I breath. I just breath and ache.It's no longer my dream to live. It's no longer my hope to hope. It's no longer my way of making believe. It's just the way of folding cards to write fate.
Days go by and nothing changes. And I breathe. I just breathe.

Portrait of a dying tomorrow

So perfect and decent in lies you told,so shamefully beautiful in eyes you never saw.
In deepest thoughts you keep living a life of fame and never fading gratitude.
In shallow hearts you keep yourself and nights of lust you pay to your dreams.
Pieces of mirrors glued to your hands you wave goodbye to a day that never ends.

Stepped up in front of fate and made hearts pay your tainted smile.
Raised yourself in lights of dying stars, so innocent in stepping in their ash.
So perfectly delightful in hiding reason behind insanity.
Deciding who to drown in sorrow for your pain to pay for the deception.

Am luat o foaie alba.

Am luat o foaie alba de hartie si-am umplut-o de cuvinte. Cuvinte reci, calde, cuvinte goale, straine, cuvinte vechi. Am umplut-o de speranta si vise, de noptile nedormite, de zilele reci de martie. Am incarcat-o cu stele, cu nori grei si fulgere, cu culori si griuri.
Dupa fiecare rand am pus un punct. Si-o mana de lalele. Si cativa fluturi. Poate cateodata si cate un zambet. In mod sigur vre-o doua, trei lacrimi. Am pus si urma degetelor testament.
Fiecare alineat s-a deschis cu vantul, cateva urme de nisip si spuma valurilor. Doua momente de suspans, o clipa de nehotarare si un pas de avant. Cateodata cu o litera mare zgariata cu coaja de copac, alteori cu litere mici din margele colorate lipite cu lipici.
Unele cuvinte le-am subliniat cu ganduri, altele le-am sters cu uitare. Unele le-am ingrosat cu vise si le-am scris mai mare sa le vad din zbor.
Cateva spatii au ramas goale cu urme de talpi ude pe covor.
In cate un colt se vad urme de aripi si zgarieturi de crengi batute de vant.
Am scris repede. Am oprit timpul si am scris marunt din suflet. Am copiat sunete in cerneala si am scrijelit imagini cu buzele.
Am luat o foaie alba. Si am umplut-o de cuvinte. De inteles. Am luat o foaie alba si scriind a devenit prea grea.

Intre

Intre fiecare pasi facuti ma opresc. Balansez in maini trecutul si viitorul si aleg.

Intre fiecare doua clipe traite alerg sa prind din urma norii. Pierd in fiecare zi din ceea ce mai pot spera sa pun intre noi. Alerg mereu cu bratele deschise, iar cand cad imi julesc palmele.

Intre fiecare doua nopti zambesc cu ochii inchisi incercand sa nu te uit. As sterge ochii lor de lacrimi,dar mi-e teama sa nu imi ard ranile.

Intre fiecare doua cuvinte am pus unul doar pentru tine. Am incetat sa mai privesc in sus si am vazut mult mai bine urmele lasate de pasi. Am crezut.

Si intre oricare doua clipe ma pierd. As vrea sa pot alege mereu ziua de maine si soarele.

Intre fiecare doua soapte se rupe o viata in doua. Am adunat piese multe, rupte in bucatele mici. Le-am lipit si le-am lasat in vant sa umpli golurile ramase. As fi putut fi eu. Asa suntem doi straini. In lumina rasaritului desenez cu degetele urme in noroiul de pe spatele zilei de ieri. Am desenat un drum, si un cer infinit, si o mare care sa curete din visele zilei de azi.

Intre doua seri uit si iert, si imi amintesc din nou. Inca mai gasesc cateodata pe clapele pianului urmele degetelor tale, dar demult am rupt corzile lui.

Intre doua scari urcate cobor in infern. Si imi ascult sufletul tacand. E mut si surd si prea ars de soare.

Intre doua zile e clipa de acum. Iau in mana mana ta. Si mana ta e rece. Ochii iti sunt morti si maine e deja aici.

Intre doua vise traiesc. Din baloane colorate mi-am facut aripi. M-am inaltat si te-am vazut zambind. Dintre toate zambetele ochii tai sunt cei mai sinceri.

Intre oricare doua dimineti inca mai e dorinta. Am crezut. Am cazut si mi-am julit palmele. Si vantul imi rascoleste pielea si sterge amintirea ta. Inca mai stiu cum erai print in basme.

Intre oricare doua chipuri esti tu.

Doi copii

Mi-e dor de povestile cu copii. Cu doi copii care se tineau de mana si jucau in mainile lor toata lumea. Cu doi copii care erau print si printesa in universul castanului lor, care aveau imparatia marii rosii si regatul muntelui de gheata. Doi copii care isi impleteau visele si radeau unul altuia fara sa se gandeasca la maine. Mi-e dor de doi copii pentru care nisipul intre degetele picioarelor era o lectie de inceput de zi. Erau doi copii care in fiecare seara adormeau cu apusul in gene si in fiecare dimineata isi gaseau rasaritul unul in ochii celuilalt. O printesa rabdatoare care astepta pe mal pana cand printul isi gasea pasii pe marea rosie, un print care putea sa stea in varful muntelui de gheata pana cand printesa lui isi curata aripile de praf si invata sa zboare din nou.Mi-e dor sa ii aud zambind, sa le vad pasii dezordonati pe nisip si degetele jucandu-se cu stelele. Mi-e dor sa il vad soptindu-i povesti cu castele mari, cu speranta si fericire. Mi-e dor sa ii aud mana mangaindu-i parul si vuietul marii desprinzandu-i-se de pe frunte.
Undeva pe drum s-au ratacit copii. Au plecat tinandu-se de mana pana intr-o dimineata cand si-au dat seama ca erau fiecare singur. Si s-au uitat in jurul lor si totul disparuse. In loc de marea rosie era furia oamenilor, in loc de muntele lor de gheata era un vant aprig. In loc de nisip in gene li se agatase dorul si neputinta de a distinge apusul de rasarit. Aripile i se rupsesera, iar mantia lui de print era acum doar o haina gri prea grea pe umerii lui. Si totusi ea isi tragea aripile prin noroi spre vuietul valurilor unde stia ca le va putea spala. Si urmele pasilor lui zdrobeau florile sub greutatea mantiei care o curata cu fiecare strop de roua.
Mi-e dor sa ii aud razand tinandu-se de mana. Mi-e dor sa vad castelul lor din castan. Mi-e dor de doi copii care puteau sa zboare, si sa zambeasca, si sa deseneze cu stele. Mi-e dor de povestile cu doi copii care puteau sa creada.