the days after the war

after the war ended
i was stranded.
my ears pierced through the silence.
for some minutes there was only noise,
in my head i was already on shore.
i guess i hid my head in known arms,
i don't know.
i guess i cried in foreign lands,
i don't know.

but once the war ended i felt
i was neither on the winning
or the losing side.
i was somewhere in between.
in between fold mountains
of my own worst fears,
striding through the cold ice waters of the better days,
how i would catch my breath and run;
i felt so safe then.
i feel no safety now.

there is absolutely no way of knowing
when it is going to come,
but there are wars you can't hide from.
they start in the hospital cafés and the cute waiter who won't acknowledge you
among all the other faces.
it begins with you accepting
that you are scared
and running away from home
for no better reason
other than facing the shame of staying.

the only thing i wish
i had known before
is how strong i could be.
how much pressure a human body
can resist.
i wish i knew 
that once you come as defeated
you have to pack, leave,
and move on.
no one will stay for so long to mourn with you,
a pat on the shoulder and they are gone.
nobody will understand your intentions
and you'll pretend to be okay.
you'll find it hard
to get up in the morning
and get through the day,
to wash the dishes
and sleep the emptiness away.

after the war ended
there was more noise.
the guns that have fired
are ready to load.
here comes the aftermath,
here comes the end.
here come the nightmares
and your own private hell.

fresh start

how much does it take
to reinvent the self?
to wipe away all efforts 
start again?
does it take courage,
to change for what one
is not?
is it true that there's no
way you can hide what you are
for a long time?
because i do really wish
i could start over
sometimes.
i guess we've got our mistakes
we want to forget.
i tell myself i won't
i won't do this again
(i won't blind myself 
with drinks tonight)
(i won't text him
even if he breaks my heart)
i swear i will be a good person.

i'm going after some new stuff man

let's hold on like we used to
let's black out these scenes like teenagers
in other words let me be the universe
revolving around you.

i want to feel the warm breeze
which still numbs my feet and curls my hair
in the spaces filling up the air we breathe;

indistinguishable from the taste of
oceans and insatiable afternoons of what
i call, loosely, love.

it tickles the skin of my arms
blurs the vision of your own eyes and
creeps down our spines
but we won't let it scare us, oh no

let's hold on like we used to
let's black out these scenes like
the scared adults we know we are
we ride buses at midnight to find our times