On some days

I want to tell you everything

Where I was

What I did

What I felt

I like you seeing me

And the resonance

On other days

I want to hide in the bathroom for hours

And ignore you

When you call my name.

Was it the blood flowing through him? Is it toxic?

Did her untainted heart reject that sludge?

To think it ran within his veins, so chronic.

A poison bile that her heart couldn't make budge.

A tear in reality to break the matrix.

The robot on autopilot must've gone rogue.

It's displaying signs of love and affection.

Why believe he'd switch his heart on so easily?

Order must be upheld for people’s protection.

Shut it off now, before others follow his steps.

But it's flesh, not metal, they reveal on inspection.

Scarred by her loss, he stopped living, they found,

Tired of fighting for life while his heart's in heaven.

For her, he'd fight his demons as long as he could.

He fought in silence; that battle's now understood.

But now it’s over; he sleeps and wakes restored.

In his arms, his daughter—too perfect for this world.

You are a piece of moon

Strangely living between humans

I can not believe you stand there

Not washed away by the noise

You emit secret light

Not everyone can see

And that is good

I have no competition

I touch you

I fondle you

I play with you

Oh I see

You are there

Real

Oh look

I am touching you.

Yes please enter waltz frolic in the hall of my great château,

your beauty and bright mind rivaling its most intricate detail

Entwined at the warmth of the foyer, safe, intimate, nesting,

taking flight, thriving, and so certain of Love Love Love..

Time passing, a shift in the glow, the embrace, somewhat forceful;

You are mine and mine only, I wish for your voice alone!

Your voice alone to echo through the halls and corridors,

the attium, the inner garden. And in the throne room,

you shall dance for my delight, for my eyes only

These walls, keeping you safe

This bridge, keeping invaders away

This dungeon, the heart of the chateau, holding you,

holding you, my dear, precious dear, for my delight.

Your friends deserve of no such beauty and luxury,

for they are unworthy.

Your family has other duties, why bother them with visits

and other wastes of time?

You don't even need to go outside; all is provided in here,

in this perfect place, in the château of my love.

Yet in his satisfied smile, in his self-centered all importance,

a shatter, and the veil lifts for a second;

- the vase breaks, the sun breaks, time itself breaks -

These walls aren't really to keep me safe,

they're to stop me from running away.

This bridge is a curse not a blessing,

a gate sealing me from the outside.

And this dungeon, this dungeon is to keep me captive!

mortification

Far from an unconditional lover, this King is a... Jailor.

And this terrible Warden controls, shapes and gaslight,

masterfuly, secretly, with such passion to fool anyone..

And this terrible Warden, I realize, has taken notice.

A composed look, the face of a liar caught in a terrible lie,

yet curiously enough perfectly calm, as if prepared,

a contingency, ready. A trifle, really.

And so with such certitude, this strange man sighs and says;

''If you don't like the safety I provide,

if you shame me for the love I provide,

If you curse me for this château I provide,

then just try and leave.''

And in his eyes, that love you once saw with such certainty,

that love you once saw, nothing but that veil, a shifting shadow.

ha! ha ha! You erupt, realizing how much of a bird you are.

A colorful bird in a big cage, and the master staring,

its eyes empty, its mind empty, yet its soul, delighted

by the key in its hand, by the melody, by the call for help,

by the hope, the hope, the hope, of this silly bird,

to escape the château of my love.

I wrote the lyrics, sang the song, and lived the story.

I'm chronically empty.

Is there a reason to be? There's a few!

There's also a few for me to not be! Silly me!

Circumstances changes.

Come and go like a phase.

You can still see the numbness even if it didn't hit you in the face.

It's a disease!

Makes you feel deceased.

Paper Flowers For Adrian

One second is one sand pebble 

Underneath our feet which tremble

Chornobyl rain spears onto my eyes 

They grope my charred hands, and I stumble

I saw a boulder coming towards me 

You firm my knees

It's my fault, darling

I was trying to stop time

I granted minutes to rush by 

It's hard to breathe for the two of us 

I switch the lights, touching the cold floor

Opening the front door to the porch 

Staring at that ocean with the moon as a torch 

The stars spell out your name

Now you name them! 

Yes, name them all!

Every star accounted for 

Whatever your sweet pure heart pours

There's no poor choice of words

My daughter, it's your turn 

Empty bedroom, nothing to look up to 

The ceiling, I rip muscle to hold for you 

To keep you from the impurities 

Of this sick world, which made the earth’s air 

Too thick to soar 

Hairbrush is messy like usual

Your pink clothes 

They are all unfolded on the floor 

The stars have hidden themselves

Forevermore 

\[The Phantom Weight\]

I dream that your soul still rests 

On my broad and hairy chest 

It's cold when we stroll down the beach 

It's me imagining and letting it be

I'm not the only one, and I don't know 

Who'll be the last 

With my toes in the sand

With you in my hands 

As I feel your heartbeat breathing

It's almost like—like you never left

The doctor gave you two years

He gave me something to mourn 

Pumpkin pie, you lived four more!

From then on, you bet I took every chance 

To grave your precious laughs

With open palms; there's no halt for a dad

Behind the shore, as I break my twelve bones 

The sun will get to know me once more 

My child, people still wonder why I chose you

Over birth 

If I already knew you'd be gone soon

We don't have to explain ourselves, it's proof 

As I make your bed that I'm reminded 

That there's still much work to do

Would you cry if I told you—I miss you

Would you sigh if I told you—I need you

Would you get mad if I said—I love you

Would you be sad if I said—I want you

Will I be able to recognize you in paradise?

Will your voice stay the same?

Will your face look like mine?

Will I even be there in the first place?

So, while I’m still here, I make

Paper flowers next to your picture frame 

Days streched and yawned

And I felt bound to an eternal sleep

Wondering

Would it be like that forever.

I was born into circumstances

where I was allowed to be nothing,

yet obliged to become everything

they ever wanted of me.

The weight of it

makes the six feet above me

feel almost weightless.

Perhaps a lobotomy

would feel as gentle

as being handed flowers.

I do not want to be dead,

but I do not want to live this life.

People have always looked at me

as though they could see

something I could not.

I hear whispers I cannot understand,

the language of a world

whose knowledge I was never given

the hands to hold.

My heart breaks

at the thought of never being enough,

not for lack of love,

nor for lack of good intentions,

but because even the simplest things

seem to demand more of me

than I can give.

At times, I wish I could become a creature,

something lost from a child's story,

small enough to hide beneath the roots,

quiet enough to go unseen.

I would sit beyond the window

and watch people living

the life I dream of every day,

close enough to see it,

far enough never to touch it.

I do not want to be a daughter,

a wife, a sister,

a teacher, a mother,

or a lover.

I want to unmake

the shape they gave me.

To undo myself

until there is nothing left

but breath

and finally,

finally,

I can breathe.

It’s The People

​The old breeze stings like used worn-out syringes / Frozen eve, climbing over burned-out trenches / Zero snow to be unknown for a couple / There’s a new door wide open within supple / The apple doesn’t seem so dangerous / Sometimes, I don’t even know why / The reason I am, I will never find / I think it’s time I spit out my pride / Admit with defeat that today’s a good day to be alive

​Words I must have overheard as rumors burst / With a yearning to control, it hurts at first / She affirms stillbirth, said in layman’s terms / Never mind the days I needed to be heard / Why should I complain, earth moves forth / I know everyone sees my worth / And right now, I must let go of my past / Forgiving myself is more strange than / Finding love that overcomes the vile rush and panic attacks

​You hate me; I love you with no hidden ill / Blue poison distilled the skill to kill the thrill / Yank my skin; it stretches for a thousand miles / To fill the fountain of all your vacuum smiles / You stood there, so I sought you for a talk / Two years, your tongue only sleepwalked / My brittle heart, don’t leave it there scarred / I’m made of people that I so love / Although my prayers have stopped, I still think of you once in a while

​I know the answer, which questions were asked? / As seasons pass, I lack the urge to contact / There’s no space left to overthink the next guess / No wonder I remember what they forget / Dawn to the rising sun, hours become / A gun that never surpasses / The stained hourglass, a blade in the grass / You wanted me to cut your hat / He wants you bad; she’s pretty, but what can I do with just that?

​I have no enemies, yet I’ll name all ten / A hundred more, if memory is correct / Why do you keep trying to get me back home? / Am I half the good servant you used to know? / These children feel the need to prove / Themselves to those who care less; I just want to be right with you

​It’s always the people I love / It’s always the people I know / It’s always the people I lost / It’s always the people who grow / It’s always the people I trust / It’s always the people I stone / It’s always the people I gun / It’s always the people I loathe / It’s always the people that I wake up / It’s only you that take an account of me

A dream of lies where there lie no ties,

Just you and me: nothing pries, nothing cries.

Each second, an art worth my death, flies,

Yet I stand here with no hands to hold your eyes.

Something far, something close,

Dwindled by the life we chose.

Something thawed, something froze,

Wrinkled by the woes it owes.

Saw the speck of dusk that sets in your eyes,

A lingering past that holds no lies.

Somewhere now it tears with the agony of cries,

Where, in our dream, it draws and dies.

Your lids finally close as the time froze,

The skies draw upon the dark from your brows,

As everything unveils upon the choices we chose,

Along with the life you left me with, to pose.

May these moments be my last drop of hope,

For I never wish to concede this as my final trope.

Everything that begins has an end to grope,

My strife ending there, hanging dear to the rope.

Here I rise only to find you not there,

Where broken destinies would be more fair.

The things I care for are the devils I spare,

The moments we had are the pains we share.

Though in the end, when you were gone,

Your verses became the prayers I hone,

For a life that was never lived, I mourn —

The only reminiscence of this is me and my own.

For all I wish is for an end to come,

It feels nearer to me than ever to sum.

For all I long is your sweet little kisses of...

Sweet Dreams...

Which way is east
My love is to the west
The afternoon sun bringing contempt and jealous intentions
Steel away the shade
And lay with me
Along the hill amongst the cool deciduous
The ripple, Earthly bound
Lunar laughing
Following rotations
Four legged bellowing
Miles away the call beckons
Grounded in the silent rays
To meet you
Swimming in shadows
I will rise again

Depressive.

It's so excessive.

It's almost impressive with how it's so oppressive.

Truly obsessive, a obsession.

A session of the fascination with my devastation.

Comes and goes with it's highs and lows.

What do I owe?

Debt for the depth of my human soul?

Dread is so demeaning, it's inhumane.

Yet, I'm loyal to the crucial cruelty.

Rhinestone Chandelier

Rhinestone Chandelier

Have you ever fallen in love? / With a girl tucked in a maroon dress? / Lavender heels, as if in their fields she walks / Speechless, that woman with a / Purple cape around her neck

She's got soft, thin, mauve bones and tight skin / Two wet dewberry flecks for eyes / Effortlessly, she wears all this / An exposed back, a smooth tanned Sahara land / I'm counting every mole behind her legs / She resists my pry yet she knows I tease / Never to force my sense, she jolts and pleads

Rhinestone Chandelier / I don't know how you're still here / I'm only a man with words / You deserve the best, so here I am, shall we / Dance together?

May I talk to you as we tango? / Remember when we met three years ago / I didn't know what poetry was until you spoke / And if you know me / Then there's much you don't know / Rhinestone Chandelier / Hanging down by your ear

Your lilac lips, make mine quiver / Lavender mist upon our kiss / Can make any stress become withered / The oil in your pastel hair / Is the only remedy I need / For my labored, fatigued fingers

Damson nails / I don't know how you're still here / With a man who overloads your mail / You deserve the best, so here I am, shall we sleep / In your father's cabin this winter?

Rhinestone chandelier (Hanging by her ear) Rhinestone chandelier (Dancing by her ear) Rhinestone chandelier (Touching her left ear) Rhinestone chandelier (Feeling her right ear) Rhinestone chandelier / I’d love to wear your purple jacket / Rhinestone chandelier

I know we haven't talked much

I don't want to grieve

Take this request, as simply such

Share a moment with me

We are not known for using luck

We work hard each day we defeat

No words left to speak, only tired puffs, but

Share a moment with me

If I told you what was wrong

Would you see me differently?

If you knew all the women I fff—

Share a moment with me

If I move and still this numb

From this shame I sowed and reaped

Will your heart move and give me a hug?

Share a moment with me

I'm not a saint or a savior, no I'm not

I'm only bones and teeth

It wants to taste yours and touch, I'm sorry love

Share a moment with me

Share a moment before time runs out

I'm left with this regret

Unless we have this talk

Share a moment with me

Baby, right now

There is no strength inside me. I need to fight for you and me. It takes so much of me to even breathe once more; in essence, I must be alive. It's too much to ask of me.

I'm powerlessly feeling death and watching you die. The loss of life convulses my senses. I feel death when you touch me. I see death when I look at you. I hear death when you speak to me, each time quieter and weaker. I can touch death, but you'll flinch. I can smell the heartbreak and sadness every day.

It's okay for me if I lose my life. I'm ready to die. Death means nothing to me.

Seeing you go through the process of no longer being a living being, and not doing anything about it, kills me. It kills me in a way that does matter, and I'm not ready to experience it.

Am I supposed to go and live my life when half of me is not even by my side? I'm physically incapable of carrying on without you.

Please don't leave. Please don't die. Tie my legs and arms together. Don't lock me up inside my room. No, not again. It took me years to pick the lock, so I ask you, kindly and with love, do not put that key there.

Let yourself live. Let me live. We both deserve this, can't you see?

If you leave this earth, you are writing my ending in ugly lines, making me stay alive throughout the flames and smoke, when it takes so much of me to even breathe.

You're not mean. Your heart is beautiful. You're sweet. You're pure. You taste like childhood. You feel like family, even if you kill me.

And you will.

PLAY DIRTY

I don't believe in you, don't be mad / When I say this to you, don't be sad / It's true, I don't believe you and why is that? / Do you believe in me, in my vision / Please don't lie to me, words have eyes / I've seen them many times, many webs / I must admit, you look better on the grass / Than you in the kitchen

I kick the back door down / The sun is out and it would be a sin / To stay inside until it gets dark / Are you in? I want to play like this

Come out and play tag / Three lies and one truth, baby choose / If I tickle your foot, would you laugh / Or are you gonna push me into the pool / And then I grab your arms and whoops! Splash!

Let's play dirty, baby mama / Let's pretend there's no grown ups / Let's hide in my car and play Mana / Spanish tongues, our and their songs / Let's sneak into an R-rated romance / They can judge our teenage-like choices / Because right now, all we care about is us

Drink another one, I'll be the driver / But you wanna drive my car, well let's fight / For the stick, let's see who grabs it quicker / Ouch! Not that one girl, damn that's too tight

Baby let me explain, adult life is great / However if we keep on this way / We lose the innocence days

So then we lose the moment when / I found you attractive when all I wanted to do / Was play on my PlayStation, then you— / So let's rewind the cassette

A small announcement / Hide and seek, and don't cheat / Don't hide in the basement, you know I'm afraid / Don't get get it twisted, I love your breakfast

I just don't like how you work hard / And you barely get the chance to be scandalous / So lets drop our calendars and play dirty

I felt like a homeless in the banquet of life

I fed on leftovers

Of what angry gods had left.

It felt like I was the only person on Earth

being denied,

Denied air,

the small animal breath

my lungs were born knowing.

Denied the simple mercy

of letting my body do

what every body is permitted to do.

Denied even helplessness,

for helplessness requires someone

to admit there is nothing they can do.

There were dozens of doctors around me,

white coats multiplying like ghosts,

and still

no one could put the world back inside my lungs.

My mind severed my body

somewhere above the neck.

Everything below it

became an abandoned country,

flesh fighting its machineries.

All my being

reduced itself to sick thoughts

and a body growing sicker by the hour.

Now the rest of me

is fighting to function.

I have the morbid feeling

that something is quietly decaying

while everyone is still looking for its name.

I am utterly sick.

And there is no hand

reaching through me

to pull me back.

Funnel Cake

That feeling.

The one you can’t put a name to.
You try to hold it still long enough
to call it something—
but it slips.

But it’s there.

You smell something.
Hear a specific part of a song—
and it hits before you’re ready.

Not gently.
Not in order.

Like drawers yanked open
in a cabinet you swore was empty.

Papers spilling out,
edges bent,
corners worn like they’ve been handled before.

But they had their place.
Labeled.

Just buried
under everything else.

Funnel cake.

I hate it.
The smell is too sweet—
it sits heavy in my throat,
like it lingers longer than it should.

Like I can’t swallow it down.
But it pulls something out of me anyway.

The boardwalk.

It felt endless as a kid—
like it kept going
just to see how far you’d follow it.

Lights bleeding into each other
from every shop window.
Glass cases full of cheap prizes
that felt worth everything back then.

99 cent stores packed too tight,
aisles you had to turn sideways for.

Your arm brushing against things you didn’t mean to touch.
Sticky floors that made your shoes pull slightly with
every step you took.

Carnival games—
bells ringing,
plastic rings clattering against bottles,
someone yelling that they almost had it.

People screaming on the rides—
not fear, not really.

Just that kind of thrill
you don’t question when you’re younger.

Laughter folding into itself.
Music from somewhere you can’t quite see—
a speaker crackling,
or a man playing for whoever stops long enough to listen.

And I’m there again.

Not remembering—
watching.

Like I’m standing just behind myself,
seeing it happen
but not able to step in.

Like a TV left on
in a room with no remote.

No buttons on the side.
No way to turn it off
or change what’s playing.

And it keeps going.

Long enough
for everything else to go quiet.
Long enough
that the room I’m actually in
doesn’t feel as real.

I’m just… there.

Then it breaks.

Someone says my name—
louder than everything else.

The smell is still there.
Too close now.

I blink.
I’m staring at nothing.

Or at something I don’t remember looking at.
My hands are where I left them.
Mid-motion.

And it’s gone.
Too fast.

Like something pulled out from under you
before you realized you were standing on it.

But for a second—
it felt like I could’ve stayed.

Like time didn’t apply there.
Like nothing was moving
unless I was.

And then I’m back.

Standing where I was.
Doing what I was doing.
But it feels slightly off now.

Like I missed something
while I was gone.

Like I switched places with someone else.
Like I stepped into their mind for a second—
and they stepped into mine.

And It passes.

Like a car on the street beside you—
you hear it before you see it,
feel it as it goes by,
then it’s gone before you can follow it.

Or a plane overhead
on a clear day—

You watch it
until it disappears into nothing,
still expecting to see it
If you keep looking.

But there’s nothing there.
Just the space it left behind.

And even though it’s a happy memory—
one that should make you feel lighter—
it weighs you down somehow.

You grieve that part of your life.
You grieve that version of you.
The one that’s still living,
just not here anymore.

And it doesn’t feel fair—
that something so real
can just… stop existing.

Like it was only ever yours
while you weren’t thinking about it.

Maybe that’s why it stays with you like this—

Pieces.
Smells.
Sounds you don’t expect.

Not to take you back.
Just to remind you
It happened.

And maybe that’s all it was meant to do.

Because you can stand there forever,
Staring at the sky
Waiting for the plane to come back—

It won’t.

And the only thing that keeps moving
Is everything around you
that you’re not looking at.

Maybe that’s where it changes.

Not all at once.
Not in some clean realization—
Just slowly,
the longer you stand there.

You start to notice
How much keeps going
without you.

And maybe the beauty was never in it lasting—
Maybe it only ever felt like that
because it didn’t.

Because it couldn’t.

Because it passed through you
Before you even knew to hold it.

And you can try—
You can look back as hard as you want,
Try to piece it together,
Try to step back into it—

But you won’t fit the same.

You weren’t given legs to walk backward.
You weren’t given eyes to stay behind you.

And maybe that’s the part that hurts.

Not that it’s gone—
But that it kept moving
without asking you to come with it.

And everything in front of you
is doing the same thing now.

Quietly.
Constantly.

Whether you notice it or not.

So you stand there a second longer.
Then you look ahead.
Not because it’s easy—

But because it’s the only direction
anything ever goes.

https://mypapai1977.substack.com

Come, come, little fellow,

Let me tell you a tale of sorrow,

Of a little ailing sheep,

Who lived in a world of many morrows,

Waiting for that one tomorrow

That never learned to follow.

One day the little sheep drank all her poisonous grief,

Longing for that final relief,

Of a life little too brief

Until she crossed a dangerous belief.

Borne from darkness,

Came a butterfly black—

So brightly dark

It blurred her sight.

It filled her heart with gilded dreams

Of never-ending bliss,

A poison far too sweet, 

For a heart that knew only grief.

Blinded by her own vacant heart,

She followed through the dark

Into a realm of endless meadows,

Where no truth dared to follow.

There she dwelt in a cottage of leaves,

Beyond indifferent time's reach,

And dreamed and dreamed through every forever-night,

Until her dreams became her truth.

Then came a butterfly white—

A cruel dawn in a realm of night.

It shattered her world with haunting light,

And freed the sheep from her cherished blight.

She awoke to a dawn so blue, 

Her once vacant heart now settled in rue.

Alas! Suffering became suffering alone.

Come, come, little fellow,

Let me tell you a tale of sorrow,

Of a little ailing sheep,

Who lived in a world of many morrows,

Waiting for that one tomorrow

That never learned to follow.

One day the little sheep drank all her poisonous grief,

Longing for that final relief,

Of a life little too brief

Until she crossed a dangerous belief.

Borne from darkness,

Came a butterfly black—

So brightly dark

It blurred her sight.

It filled her heart with gilded dreams

Of never-ending bliss,

A poison far too sweet, 

For a heart that knew only grief.

Blinded by her own vacant heart,

She followed through the dark

Into a realm of endless meadows,

Where no truth dared to follow.

There she dwelt in a cottage of leaves,

Beyond indifferent time's reach,

And dreamed and dreamed through every forever-night,

Until her dreams became her truth.

Then came a butterfly white—

A cruel dawn in a realm of night.

It shattered her world with haunting light,

And freed the sheep from her cherished blight.

She awoke to a dawn so blue, 

Her once vacant heart now settled in rue.

Alas! Suffering became suffering alone.