I don't want to hear human voice
I don't want to think about something they intrude me
I want to fly
Like in last night's dream
I want to feel no weight on my shoulders, I want to be free and see only blue and clouds
And touch them, how soft they are
I don't want to think about my selfishness
I just want to be
To be
Meditating
Calm and happy and myself and tranquility and maybe him...
Don't even know anymore
But I write
I don't love what I write but I love that I write again and that's the only thing that matters
I write on the paper
And I fly
In ISS over the Chernobyl
It doesn't matter because I fly
I'm growing my hair long for someone who's suddenly a stranger
Where the meaning of life was, there's suddenly a black hole
I don't know what to do with my life anymore
Hope's exchanged with resignation
I don't aim for the target anymore
I used to think I was a genius and I could fly high
Now all hopes are almost lost
I'm okay with it
But I still hope, maybe someday on the tour of some foreign land
Some cute face'll give me that shy smile
That you gave me in my deepest dreams
My French garden of daisies
My swan
YOU ARE READING
Random thoughts pretending to be poems
PoetryPoems written in post-covid era, when my writing style had suddenly changed a lot, significantly affected and inspired by Lana Del Rey's Violet book and her post-NFR albums and by other circumstances still unknown to me.
