The Black Bird On A Tree

He waits for you during the night. Trapped on his last tree. The one where the sun will eventually erase him. And no one will remember the bird who waited for you on a cut tree. So go and find him. Find all his darkness before it is too late. Before you cannot find anything but a blinding whiteness. Your eyes will then get hurt by all that noise. And you will wish it was dark once again. Because deep inside you know that you are a night person. And its colour will forever be your confort. So follow his song. The one you clearly recognize everytime you wake up in the middle of the night. And go. Just go find your black bird and dance. Dance like you are the crazy one and you mean it. Dance till your black bird on a cut tree cannot sing anymore. Fulfilled by your delivery. Your joy. And then go catch him and bite his head off. Swallow it without thinking and go back to bed. When the sun rises once again and you are obliged to face it simply show him your black peack. He will never reach out for you again. And you will be once again the master of yourself and all your loneliness.

To Love As A Confession

It can be hard to tell those words. Sometimes it might be dangerous too. And the world seems to deteriorate beside us. And we risk to mingle with it and perish. And so we write it down. Like having a point. Like showing proof. Like a confession. And we do not understand how that fragile us. Because Love doesn’t have a point. It doesn’t prove anything. And it surely doesn’t need a confession. Because Love is. And Love will. Be all. It takes. To be.

Loneliness Can Be a Blessing

Sometimes. But only sometimes. Don’t let them fool you with words of self-importance that only feed your ego. Because loneliness can be indeed a blessing but only if you have someone waiting for you at home.

(photograph source: Flickr)

I Can Already See It

I can already see you. There’s no denying . You seem so clear to me now. I still cannot believe how I did not see you before. Because you are right in front of me. No hiding. Nothing but you. Evident. And clear.

A View To The Ocean @ Flickr.

Watching The Things That Never Were

They keep coming. And confronting me with their perfect stories. When they finish I’ll have nothing to say. Nothing to add. Just that notion you have when your distant memories are about to be forgotten. And you do nothing but watch them go. Hopeless.

Flickr.

Fight To Become Art

Sit down and enjoy the view. Some days are better when quiet. And we just mingle with what is presented in front of our eyes. Because if we pay attention we will be able to see the greatest landscape. Right in front of us. Vibrating with emotion and sparkling with inspiration. Giving all we need to become better versions of ourselves. And to think, but most important acknowledge, that all we need to do is sit and, truly, intensively, appreciate the view.

[Fight To Become Art @ Flickr.]

The Dark Passenger Has Arrived

The dark passenger has arrived. He has been waiting, wandering about, watching us quietly, absorbing all our light. So soon every little thing you are accustomed to see will be gone, out of your reach, just pure darkness. You can try to run against him but you will never overtake him. And yet you will know he is there. Right in front of you. You can feel his breath, his movement. But your wide open eyes won’t believe in him. And you’ll get confused. And panic. And then your vision will distort. And your hands will get in a dark tunnel. And you will believe you are losing your senses but you are not. It is real. You have been too close to the passenger and his darkness mingled with your soul. And you are being devoured. Still battling against that notion of falling into the abyss your body will start soon to shiver. And that’s when you will be snatched. By him. And everything you see today will be his. And you will be nothing but a fading light. In his arms. You stop. Being you. You. Are. Not. But. Him.

Flickr.

Sometimes we all need a little princess to lead our way

Sometimes we all need a little princess to lead our way

And her dreams will become ours

And we will laugh to the same silly things

And fall asleep at the same time

Because where she leads is where we will be.

Flickr.

The Red Kiosk Will Always Wait That You Go To Sleep Under Your Warm Sheets

The red kiosk will always wait that you go to sleep under your warm sheets

So you won’t have to worry about the dying redness inside your cold body .

Flickr.

Kiss the sun

Kiss the sun, a photo by pedro_carreira on Flickr.

I will search for you
I will follow you
Till the end of the world