Crossroad

It hurt

to see the time and wait for you

while the grey snow melted

wiped away our first steps

Time ran

it stumbled towards you

just like it was mocking me

left me on the gravel road

          in the middle of piles of snow

          to look for the missing heart beats

          the ones you so dearly wanted

To look for the fucking smiles and shared nights

and the conversations in the small hours

when neither of us wanted to sleep

(Or maybe I should have tried

to find Hell

          that's probably the way I was heading anyway)

I guess I should have

found those chats in the A.M

that pushed us to that crossroad

on that rough gravel road where you picked a direction

and I stayed and waited

I thought I was waiting for you

to walk back and smile to me

and kiss me like we were meeting for the first time

and take me back

to our future together

But maybe it was actually a miracle I was waiting for

Risteys

Se teki kipeää

katsoa kelloa ja odottaa sinua

harmaan lumen sulaessa

pyyhkiessä pois meidän ensiaskeleet

Kello juoksi

se kompuroi sinua kohti

ja aivan kuin kiusatakseen

jätti minut soratielle

          sinne lumipenkkojen keskelle

          etsimään niitä kadonneita sydämen tykytyksiä

          joita sinä niin kovin kaipasit

Etsimään niitä helvetin hymyjä ja yhteisiä öitä

ja niitä keskusteluja pikkutunneilla

kun kumpikaan ei halunnut nukkua

(Tai ehkä minun olisi pitänyt

löytää helvetti

          sinnehän olin varmaan aina suuntaamassa)

Minun olisi pitänyt kai

löytää ne aamuöiset keskustelut

jotka työnsivät meidät siihen risteykseen

raapivalle soratielle jossa sinä valitsit suunnan

ja minä jäin odottamaan

Luulin odottavani sinua,

sitä että kävelisit takaisin ja hymyilisit

ja suutelisit kuin tapaisimme ensikertaa

ja veisit minut takaisin

meidän yhteiseen tulevaisuuteen

Mutta ehkä se olikin ihme mitä oikeasti odotin

Smile

It's easy

to pretend to smile

when you've mastered

the art of quietly fading

Locked room

Room full of boxes, filled with unused emotions, overflowing feelings, useless memories. I stack them up over and over again, hoping they would disappear, suddenly empty themselves. Is it safer to collect them in a locked room or let them run free, escape the cardboard house I planted them in?

If I just organize them, alphabets, weight, units, will they make more sense? Will I find a place for all of them from within me?

I feel the urge to let them out, let them fill me so I can combust from all the unshared sensations but I'm too scared to find out what will happen after it. Is there anything? Will I feel a thing?

I'm afraid I'll turn into a numb carcass, once so full of life's disappointments, now just an abandoned shell with a hollow echo lingering in the empty space where my soul used to be.

I pile the boxes on top of each other. Time after time I read the labels of the dusty feelings. Scared to accidentally scratch open the seal and let them fall out. I stare at the names of the sensations once so familiar to me. Now I can't remember any of them, afraid to even ask.

All my life the scariest thing was the dark matter, the feeling that weighs so much, it runs over you every time you whisper its name. The box it lives in leaks shadows all over the place, leaves bleak air behind it. To me anxiety and sadness were easy, loss and fear were nothing compared to the darkest, rotting emotion.

For you the red roses with their thorns are part of the journey, the end goal where you want to end up so bad. Touching the daydream is what you need but I want to run away from it. I locked it in the room, left it behind secret codes and locks without keys.

My deepest fear isn't fear itself. It's not the dark you see before everything ends. I have left them in weak boxes, ready for them to burst out any moment. I don't care.

The darkest fear that lives in my consciousness is the soulless being of love.