The rain is loud now, As if a giant feet arises from the clouds To step on the river under the bridge of my heart And disturb it in such a way That the sails of ships bend, And the water touches the bridge from below, Tickling it to sorrow… The rain is loud now, But actually, it has always been like this. You were there once, And I never felt it. But now, All there is Is this sorrow That tickles me from inside, As if it wants me to laugh, Yet doesn’t let me At the same time…
A wrist leaks blood on a sink,
A rope on a leaf-less tree,
Too many pills in the hand.
Wining,
Stretching naked on a narrow bed,
Not able to stretch enough.
Sometimes I wish
Someone stretched me
Until I broke in half.
Sometimes I wish
Someone would know my pain.
But no.
A wrist leaks blood on a sink,
A rope on a leafless tree,
Too many pills in the hand.
Rocks erode and flowers wither
And footprints dissolve into the lips of the sea.
And not even the sea remembers
How big they were,
What created them.
Wrists leak blood on sinks,
Ropes sway on trees,
And the pills get swallowed.
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