Dreams and sleep.
There is a reason we love to sleep.
When you spend your entire day fighting monsters,
And watch yourself lose anyway,
You get tired and your shoulders slouch.
When the sword becomes too heave to carry,
But the villain still triumphs,
You get fed up and your eyes feel drowsy.
When you stay up all Christmas night,
But Santa never shows up,
You are disappointed and you go to bed. Continue reading Dreams and sleep.
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Despite being six vodka shots down,
I was sober as I called you.
It isn’t possible to drunk-dial you,
Because you are like a good night’s sleep.
Just the thought of you slows down my heart-beat,
and makes me feel at home.
I don’t need to be drunk around you,
as I tell you everything anyway.
I’m not afraid of blabbering on and on,
Like a tape on repeat,
Because you’ve said that I am your favorite song.
I do everything with you,
that I wouldn’t even dream of, unless drunk.
You are a glass of water,
for every shot that I have.
You’re salt and lime,
and my poetry’s rhyme.
If I am so alive with you,
How can liquor make drunk
as I call you?
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This is Submission THIRTEEN of The Whiskey Words. The Whiskey Words is a writing project (and a giveaway). The winner will be announced on 1st of April.
Hangover
Last night wasn’t the first time I’ve dreamt of you,
But I have never before woken,
With such a lingering sadness on my tongue,
That tastes of all the words we left unsaid,
And my head heavy with memories,
I had attempted to forget long ago.
Yet I know it is no one’s fault but my own,
For lying awake until five in the morning,
Allowing myself to be intoxicated,
By far too many thoughts of you.
– Kirstan Decker (blog)
“O heart, be patient” – Qur’an
My heart has been jumping around,
Quite a lot since,
I became old enough to feel it.
It beats faster,
with every sheep that I count,
one sheep,
two sheep,
and three.
Maybe it just loves to dream,
And since I’ve grown old enough,
And since the things I’ve seen,
It has become restless,
For it wants butterflies,
and flowers,
fire and gushing winds,
Empty cliffs and ferocious waves.
It wants roses,
and tequila shots,
and that one girl I just can’t walk up to.
It wants to travel to places,
that even cameras haven’t seen
places where there’s no chaos,
And everything is at peace.
It doesn’t know what’s enough,
for it still isn’t old enough,
but it’s old enough to want everything anyway.
It wants giggles,
and tears that don’t sting,
and lies for surprise parties,
instead of a casual fling.
It wants unrequited love,
adventures and crazy shit.
It wants to eat french,
and kiss Italian,
Hold tiny paws of dogs,
and look into the small eyes of cats.
It wants to live,
and not just exist.
What it does not want is to be
Naive in this world.
It wants everything good,
and everything bad.
But most of all,
it wants to be able to smile,
and let it reach the eyes.
That is all.
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Related post : What were we like?
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My Spirals 