Happy New Year

Death's stinky breath is on our house
and at night, I dream of horse-drawn carriages sunk into swamps,
and violent reverse big-bangs
that burn us into nothingness.

And yet, we cling onto life with bared fangs and barred doors,
protecting the only thing that's left.

Sometimes those rays of daily life the way we knew them
shine through and hit us on the head with their simplicity and
foreign air of some long-gone and innocent time
when we didn't think about the moments so much.

And sometimes I find myself half-wishing that those moments were still mine
to float like a cork on.
But noone can hide from the deep waters too long. Sooner or later we will all be forced to sink in them,
and i'd rather dive head-on that drown in the waves.

Do you know what I mean?


I mean, really, Life is funny.
Though I'm a believer in luck and no such thing as fate,
It would have me believe in purpose.
Why else would Life send you along at such a time riddled with death,
if not to tease me?

She called you Love, and branded you with some
transparent and irresistible ink, that even you
would find frighteningly beautiful,
and sent you here to save my heart from sinking.

She raised a wall and said: Climb it.
She burnt the forest and said: Find life.
She placed you in some foreign land and said: Swim.
She drained this world of colour, taste and context and said: Write, write!


Of all the things happening in my life right now,
in this impressionistic brain of mine, which has me swirling in
lights and shadows and fleeting brushstroke memories of
purple-coloured, half-drawn people,
you are my most vivid.

And though we struggle to converge our lives
in many ways par physical,
I know this might sound strange
but you make Death a little more bearable
and a little less significant.


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