meaning

I still carry with me

the memory of your eyes 

when you smile 

the way you talk to me

only through your eyes, sometimes

or through the tone of your voice

the way you look at me 

when you think I am not looking 

and the way you confide in me 

even with things that seem small 

but are not revealed normally 

my imagination is a jester 

the smile 

the eyes 

the words 

the tone of voice 

maybe they have no real meaning, 

only the one I give. 

And I walk away with them 

in my memories

as I can not give anymore. 

secret scar

keep a secret scar  

an emotion I can never hold back

So I will walk 

until that scar will need to close beneath. 

And it will come a time I will look at it

in some sunny days 

and I will smile to the skyes and maybe say

my heart was weak 

but I don't care 

hearts are not meant to prove 

anything to anyone. 

Walk

I will walk from now on. 

walk away as much as possible, 

walk away from heavy feelings

walk away from my thoughts

walk away from conversations I used to enjoy

walk away from your fear 

walk away from the way you already know what will happen

walk away the same as you do

you thought me how to walk away.

between want and walk

I wanted to tell you that I got a little bit drained 

inbetween the shaking, the crying, the stress and the ice. 

I wanted to tell you that this is one of my weaknesses - seeing people hurting. 

I wanted to tell you that you give me strength, when you are around. 

behind me, close to me.  

I wanted to tell you everything, but I did not. 

I walked away and walked some more. 

if stardust

If the smallest stars in the sky 

would call your name

I can bet you would

wonder for one minute 

take your time, 

open one window, and keep the other one closed.

then stop for a while 

as if you do not hear the stars

you start missing them. 

you try to stay near the windows, 

but never opening both.

And if Tinker Bell would share some magic dust you would take it, but make sure you can keep the doors open, to be able to return. 

In the end, or in the morning the stars are always gone. 

Still if the stars feel like it, in the morning they hide beneath your window, in Tinker's pockets.

Sometimes they become stardust for whoever needs it. 

if the Adriatics

If I would be the Adriatics,

I would run in your arms and spill my waves in your heart. 

I would let your sun follow my heels, 

from a distance. 

caress your toes and play in the dark with your hair, with your light, but especially with your shadows. 

I would laugh and my waves would make your smile stay for longer and in the earth your spirit would grow a baobab tree that  survives eternal questions of the soul. 

Am I here to stay? 

Where am I going? 

Will I leave a mark in the ground?

Maybe the only reason is just to be.  Sometimes in more than one way. Sometimes to be like the sea, or like the sun? No, maybe more like a baobab tree to live one day at a time. 

a tshirt

I left in the afternoon 

on a clowd wearing nothing but my t-shirt 

with the message 

Friends. 

I left in the afternoon, when my voice got week and my judgement impaired.