trytodefeatm3

[trytodefeatm3]

Your memory of home will be exchanged

For the gates of hell waiting for the flame

To drown all in fire and shame

What you knew what you were is not there

Sinking and diving into the sea

Waters cold remember me I'm still alive

Is there even something more than just I?

[trytodefeatm3]

I romanticised the story of you riding in on your noble steed to save me from the ruins.

My lack of self worth hiding the realisation of a life long romance,

Me saving myself.

-JF-

[trytodefeatm3]

I cannot quantify how long I have been on the run, nor can I say exactly from what , but I continue on an endless path to feel safe, in a home, rather to feel like one, in my fleeting and painful passage through this world.

I have traveled as far as possible, I have fled, and nowhere have I managed to feel safe.

All the arms to which I have given myself have not been able to embrace me as strongly as I long, so I decide to keep on running until I finally find a nook, a bit of cloud, in which I can rest momentarily and delicately; as if I were a tiny dandelion, even though I know that refuge is finite, just like the particles of water that form it, and then precipitate and disappear into the damp, sodden and inchoate deepness pit of your oblivion

[trytodefeatm3]

That gelid morning I took off the mask that was so tight and painful

I cried inconsolably on an abandoned basketball court, freezing to death, I couldn’t stand the weight of not feeling enough, I exploded.

No one knew I was there.

I had nowhere to hide, but somehow you took me in, until my storm passed.

You knelt down and grabbed my cheeks, wiping my almost frozen tears.

My field of vision was the frost in a pool of icy water and the dividing lines of the field almost completely blurred by corrosion next to the poles of the baskets about to rust.

There was not a soul and the atmosphere was thrilling.

But at least I wasn’t alone