my air-time is yours

i blend in frames
nuances
silences
jerks
and there's a moment in my head
when you stood
in the evening-night once,
smiling

I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You

I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.

I love you only because it's you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.

Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.

In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood. 

Pablo Neruda

So

the truth is i cannot write anymore. not even blogposts. i stop here.

Nightmares

I used to know what they meant.
Now, they're just about waking up to the blankness of the night and wondering how those images crept into my head. I go to bed with a clearer head since the time it was monsoon. But with winter catching up, I wake up in a freeze to the pictures my head draws every night. 

bah!

i have only stupid dreams
and my mind's rubbish
to share

now
wait is a long strand of listless sky

when the train arrives
i will have
only my palms,
slashed with fate's doodles
to spread at your face

and wave a long time

stupid dreams

sometimes,
all you need it a hand to hold
and the knowing it will not abandon

words...

i abandoned,

they make me want to turn into a little baby tonight
and just disappear into the sheets