• Poetry

    You cannot lose something you never owned

    House without visitors, life without notice, invisible among delusions and slaps, silently sobs behind its walls, even though they crush and suffocate me. Bottle floating in muddy water, without a letter, without a signature, there’s no one to receive it. That house is a skeleton, that house is me. Even the skeleton has a soul. For some of us, if we’re lucky, we will never run out of sunny days without worry in a house full of laughter. For others, life is a puzzle of incomplete moments, too much of them spent, unnoticed and forgotten, behind the non-talking structures, because words are too difficult to pronounce. Am I selfish for…

  • Poetry

    I believe I can from scratch tailor my beginning

    I give reality a chance, but I don’t blindly go to its chambers, I don’t fall easily to every noise like when I was a kid. I surrender to the world who spreads its arms to hug me or crush me, I’m taking a risk. I only squat to peek through the cut in my right palm, to remind me how I was bleeding to protect what was mine. And I remember forgetting, because it’s easier to press your eyelids with your thumbs but to let the pain pour out and sink you. But I give these walls a chance which diminish me as soon as I speak out loud…

  • Poetry

    If you see her, say hello to her

    If you see her, say hello to her, she left me last fall in the park, on a bench -I never thought to bring her back. If she asks how I am, tell her I’m fine. She might ask if I forgot her, tell her I am, long time ago. If you see her, say hello to her. The love between us happened quickly, as if we were just temporary lovers. We used to see each other every day, but we were hiding from ourselves. We didn’t want to show weakness and then weakness destroyed everything. If you see her, say hello to her. Approach her and hug her, one…

  • Poetry

    I am a man reluctant to call himself the man

    Please me. Win me. This time I’m handing over my bones, please me, split them in half, then crush them. Taste my loss, although I may not deserve it, but today is such a day, and I live from the night. I don’t know about disciplines, I don’t appreciate them. I don’t obey the backbone of rules and order, sooner, I break mine, so that I don’t carry others’ mistakes. I only know digression from what my weak emotion dictates. That’s why I step away, that’s why I’m giving you permission to take advantage of this day, in a variation of my nights. Here you go. I can’t explain my…

  • Poetry

    Split up before and after our impulses

    In desperation, we lie, we deceive sensibilities, we’re losing fairly, bluffing only with the existence in the darkness that surrounds us, as if it swallows us with the eyes with a scalpel which hangs on the lower eyelids. The space between us could be one room, one continent, which yawns, split up before and after our impulses to fill the straits with the glass mosaic, where infinity would be dissolved, and nothing below us or above us exist, apart from the feeling of falling, without end, in a void without stars that would illuminate the spider web in which you and I hold on for a sigh or two. It’s…

  • Poetry

    I will become a drop in your eye

    I will become a drop in your eye, which will slip from time to time down your face, but it won’t fall. You will wipe me, you’ll get me off, with the conviction that it’s over. But it’s just beginning… I’ll be a reflection of your look in the mirror when you’re looking for me. I’ll be a thorn in your eye, but not as a threat -but as a memory. I will live inside your eye, like a bitter tear. I will slip from time to time and every time you wipe me before I fall, I will know I’m still hurting you. Every time you wipe furiously memories-…

  • Poetry

    Skeletons scattered all over the carpet

    You ask me what to do with all that love; Drink it, swallow it, then vomit, just don’t get the carpet dirty, on which lie my favorite skeletons. And what to do with all these wishes? Just cough them up so you can drink them again. How can you ask me? All I’ve learned is how to defend myself from others, but not how to let them go. I will always be half present, half alive, selfishly keeping someone by their side. I feel so much, and yet I get none of it. No, only keep eating that love. Swallow it. Slide into my eyelids. Never let them know that…

  • Poetry

    She had dimples on her cheeks

    She had dimples on her cheeks and Converse sneakers older than herself. She wore badges on a denim jacket and colorful socks. She listened to Cigarettes After Sex and read the book Shadow of the Wind in city transportation. In love with literature, and the literature with her, too. Every other day she read a new book. Many poems and books have been written about her. I guess everyone wants to meet a girl with dimples on her cheeks and to approach her, but not to be a cliché. They observed her. Many still do, but she’s not anyone’s type. She’s just beautiful. She intrigued everyone with her existence. Of…