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…
I go down...
My face melting into itself
Like being punched in slow motion.
I go down...
Moving without action,
Screaming without sound...
Not even allowed to curse myself
As the words get stuck in the many bubbles
Which pop out of existence.
I go down...
Slowly.
Now time moves through me,
Not the other way around.
I go down
And hit a rusting anchor
With a rusting chain
Covered in algae and sucking fish.
I stop Spitting out bubbles
As it is a language only I understand.
I stop spitting out bubbles
And become one with the rocks,
The anchor,
The anemone dancing to remind us
That there is a music to all this
We cannot hear.
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