luni, 1 ianuarie 2018


Love grows out of me like hair
There's nothing you can do to stop it from growing
It is true it hurts when they cut it off
And it is true it has been short
And falling lately
But it is there, and it is soft,
And it will never stop, only change colors if it may
As does my love for you
Always different, always present.

I wish I were bald
Then the sun would shine onto my skin clearly
No beautiful words
No cheatings
And I could see the world for what it is
But then I would be dead.
My hairs are what I refused to forget
They are filled with smells, they carry time
And I keep them dead like photographs
Stuck with duct tape in my diaries. 

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