Like an ice-cube
melting when exposed to a sunshine
slowly changing shape
turning into water.
That’s how kissing you feels like.
taking a first deep breath
after almost drowning,
during a clear, dark night,
or seeing a rainbow
after days of a heavy storm.
And touching you
feels like drinking wine
new kind, every day,
getting to know what you like
because you’ve tried so many types
but some things are still unfamiliar to you.
Seeing you is like
watching a butterfly sit on a flower
looking at its’ colourful wings.
Talking with you is just like
listening to my favourite song
because I adore the melody
because I’m in love with your voice.
But being with you
is like volunteering to go to a war,
being torn apart
left in pieces with no help by your side.
It feels like being burnt alive,
run over and shot
all at the same time.
despite all of that
I keep coming back
because I feel good
when I burn
because I feel something
when I drown
because you are the one
to shoot me
although it’s painful
you make me feel something again.
So I keep coming back
Suddenly sitting on this white, fluffy kinda pillow
I’ve realised that I don’t want to reach
My final destination, because it’s not home.
Don’t get me wrong.
I love coming back to this green land of
thank you and pardon, but
every time when I think of my final destination
I just can’t find this place in any part of my heart.
Every time I just can’t say that I’m coming back
if I arrive there, because
coming back to me is when
I arrive at a place where you are right next to me.
So far the only thing I’ve been doing
for the past few years
is just flying away
when in fact I’m so tired
and I don’t even like planes.