Page blank
silent thoughts
enemy inside
Empty hall
short bed
feverish body can't find rest
Nails scratching walls
teeth grinding tongue
eyes steady
Schoolyard laughters
lonely kid on a bench
clown staring behind the fence
Knife cutting onions
child in the cradle
strange thoughts
Fire in the hall
all exits locked
enemy inside
Me and my mind -where is my mind?-
we are convicts
in a maximum security prison of this world
we are kept in different cells
behind bars and heavy doors
with orange uniforms
and naked women on the walls
me and my mind
we meet in corridors
we exchange messages
during the lunch
wrapped in cylinders
hidden underneath the tongue
the other day
he told me something dangerous
he told me he doesn't wanna live anymore
I told him to shut up
and keep it to himself
I went to the yard and hit the weights with 400 pounds on the bar
pumping iron
spitting blood
till I couldnt breath anymore
Then in the chow hall
I ate my beans
read my boo
I like wandering in ruins
of accounts long abandoned
in blogs that the owners left behind
finding ways to go on with their lives
full of paintings on the walls
and dusted furniture
and in the corridors echoes from comments hanging in the air
With doors unlocked
and everything in the right place
no matter how valuable or secret they may be
do not wipe clean your history from fear or shame
like teens that used their parent laptop
while everybody was away from home
Therefore I beg you Users
Do not bring down the walls
but let them standing high and firm
with windows open and broken wings
like eerie haunted mills
so I can get inside
Page blank
silent thoughts
enemy inside
Empty hall
short bed
feverish body can't find rest
Nails scratching walls
teeth grinding tongue
eyes steady
Schoolyard laughters
lonely kid on a bench
clown staring behind the fence
Knife cutting onions
child in the cradle
strange thoughts
Fire in the hall
all exits locked
enemy inside
I like wandering in ruins
of accounts long abandoned
in blogs that the owners left behind
finding ways to go on with their lives
full of paintings on the walls
and dusted furniture
and in the corridors echoes from comments hanging in the air
With doors unlocked
and everything in the right place
no matter how valuable or secret they may be
do not wipe clean your history from fear or shame
like teens that used their parent laptop
while everybody was away from home
Therefore I beg you Users
Do not bring down the walls
but let them standing high and firm
with windows open and broken wings
like eerie haunted mills
so I can get inside
In order to write
I go down to the basement
And by basement I mean I close my eyes
And something stirs inside me
We play hide-and-seek
....................................
Little shit
It got away again
Within the vast Thracian forests were he was born, Theodosius the monk, got to know human cruelty.
After years of wandering, from the hanging monasteries of Meteora to the Holy Lands, his steps brought him to Sinai desert, in a cave formed by the scorching winds, uncountable ways far from every living creature.
There, Theodosius begged God to deliver him from the daemons that haunted his life for so long.
After months of painful fast and constant prayer, at the far end of the valley, the figure of a man showed up.
Day by day, slowly and steady like a snail, the flickering black flame crawled between the dunes towards him until it became o