beautiful people

 

 

 

 

 

 

knowing so many beautiful people
I feel lost
while walking moving and talking
amongst so many figures of
grey crumpled paper
which rustle relentlessly but
don’t mean anything
really

knowing so many beautiful hearts
which flew their blood
velvety and embracing
like liquid flowers under my
filtering eyes
my heart feels entrapped
in a trivial game of
fitting bricks filling gaps with concrete
gazing at the river of tarmac
inhaling whispered non-sense

this space
with its faltered moves
like a hybrid and shiftless monster
whom nobody ever means to look at
or give any importance whatsoever
this space is nothing but
all the load we carelessly produce and induce
in flimsy attempts
to ignore the lack of
ourselves
of other selves

knowing and forgetting
sleep gets us
like a final blow in a quiet
and undecided conflict
a war of all our ghosts
of all the times we slip away into greyness
into meaningless scribbled
lumps of paper