Escaping Night

I stay up at nights to work but there is a certain romance to the solidarity in darkness. My mind is quick at choosing a new destination and driving me off the cliff. Time is a funny thing, it stretches out at times and escapes you effortlessly at others. There is no way to predict its speed. I easily give in to the night and its mysterious games of time.

When you can't sleep it is so easy to forget that eventually you will have to wake up. And even if I stay up, that won't stop the sun from rising and the night will still escape through my back door as unnoticed as it came in to comfort my poor soul or distract it even more.

I was suffocating in the the city so I let the road lead the way.

If you were nowhere to be found than perhaps if I got lost too,

we would somehow meet in the void of memories.

Meet me on the other side of the flight...

Meet me on the other side of the flight. I will purchase the ticket and eagerly send you the day and the time of my flight. I will pack my suitcase with the sweet memories and the forgotten ones, the unspoken words and the misspoken ones, with the light days and heavier nights, with the laughter we shared and the tears you wiped.

Meet me on the other side of the flight. I will carefully choose my outfit, iron my shirt, pick the good looking shoes over the comfortable ones only to wake up on the day of the flight and change the whole look. I will overthink which earrings to wear and what color lipstick to wear for you to wipe off.

Meet me on the other side of the flight so that I can wait impatiently for the day to come. I will wake up earlier than my alarm and be too excited to have breakfast. I will leave the half empty mug with tea in the sink, three spoons of sugar and a slice of lemon. I will leave my apartment too early only to sit on the stairs to wait for the cab.

Meet me on the other side of the flight. I will take my seat in the plane, window seat as always. I will try to catch the sunshine as it reflects in the ocean below. I will admire the clouds from above and watch the dark veil of the night cover their light emptiness.

Meet me on the other side of the flight. Give me the joy of that moment when my heart starts beating faster as the plane is about to land. I will sit in my seat waiting for the crowd to leave while inside my heart will be racing and jumping uncontrollably. As I leave the plane and march along with the crowd I will forget my suitcase and lave everything behind... the memories, the words, the days and the nights, our laughs and my tears...

Meet me on the other side of the flight. I will fly for hours, for days just for that moment of meeting you... on the other side of the flight. As you notice me in the crowd that is walking towards the exit and as I notice you in the crowd of those waiting, the time will freeze for a moment or two or for eternity. And I will run like there is no tomorrow and you will catch me like there was no yesterday. And as we great each other on the other side of the flight the world will stop existing for a moment... or two... or for eternity

Meet me on the other side of the flight...

The Empty Script

You have become a distant fog that weights less than a cloud.
I see your face only through the haze of distance and can barely make out your features as my memory fills in the gaps.

Your presence has been replaced by feelings, feelings about the long gone and forgotten, feelings that are made of delusions and false hopes.

Your closeness is merely a song that I stumble upon on the radio while driving. The random lyrics seem to perfectly fit in like long lost puzzle pieces and for a second I believe that you are indeed closer.

Your absence gets wrapped up in endless possibilities of scenarios that no mater how realistic, never occur. The endless dialogues are always one-sided and unanswered. My thoughts hopelessly fill in the empty spots, fill out the blank lines of the script and I trick myself into learning the script by heart until I forget that I wrote it myself. 

If my thoughts had wings

they would reach you through the cold night

and whisper a wind in your ear, 

hopefully waking some old feelings in your heart 

that you have tried so hard to bury.

And if both our thoughts,

mine and yours, 

meet somewhere in a cozy corner of the world 

and waltz through the wind, 

then what can logic and reason do stop them? 

Bag of Sorrows

Another morning... I let the long drive take away all the masks and while the wind plays with my hair I let all the tears out. Singing along the songs playing on the radio out loud I try so hard to silence the voices in my head and keep on driving. If not the street lights I would go on speeding until I either flew above all these puddles of pain or finally crush into one.

I park the car, wipe off my tears and get out leaving the giant bag of sorrows inside. It’s too heavy to carry with me and I’m afraid that at any point it just might open up. Well, now we wouldn’t want that to happen, would we?