You might think ..., you might be wrong
..., you might not understand ...
and you might even not see, but ..., I cannot
change you ...
I don‘t want that „honor“ people love to
have in their hand
the paper is the only friend left to me,
sometimes I lose even you.
My soul I didn't pick, didn’t get a chance
it to choose or to change,
I was just left with it, confused and
without direction but with a dream.
perfect is far away from describing me,
but the truth is still out of range,
there is too much to learn and not enough
time or power for help to scream.
I know I’m not easy, probably or sure i will
never be any better,
different path I will choose, all the time
just because I feel ... more,
one more step to knowing myself, one more
page, or one more sad letter.
this is not about getting even, right or
wrong, or counting the score.
If you look for answer, you have to look
behind the architecture of my past,
with all the shit we have got through, the
truth has changed to lies,
friends who later fed my anger, were about
to enter the word I fear at last,
the one I try hard to protect you from, so
far successful were the tries.
All the “not nice” words on paper, saves
me the trouble of my thoughts to kill,
you I’m with every day, never left and I
with you i face things that destroy me again.
There is reason for all this, one and only
reason that I never doubted and never will,
the one which make you angry, which makes
me busy with my brain.
You know I changed a lot, made a big
journey from my nothing to knowing and feeling,
all the hard tries to stay here every day,
not being dragged into that world.
sometimes it tempts, a lot, tries to lead
me of the road, makes it hard to think,
but that is why the not nice stuff appears,
my only help are the ink, paper and word.
But you remember, that when you look
behind, you know who you gonna find,
all this stuff that is not nice and sad
and ugly, will never be enough,
there is a stronger force in me, the one
that was so hard to find, one of a kind,
only one which makes me love all this,
even when it’s pretty rough.
Being unable to write something nice is
the price that I need to pay,
the paper is here to digest all the not
nice stuff a that would leave never.
all these things must leave, I don’t want
to keep them inside, loose them.
But the fact, the love I intend to keep, is
safe, protected, deep forever.
Forgive me for the feelings I am keeping
of the paper there is just a trace
but these are the only ones that make my
soul to peel.
and clean inside of me, to save my mind
and to increase the space.
Where I can keep all the feelings I am
sure you gonna feel.
so please don’t chase me away, because it
starts me to scare,
sometimes we all suffer more or less,
sometimes we need to change,
there are higher reasons, for which we
cannot prepare.
this is the only thing worth to preserve,
so together we can age.
