Please come back.
I know you will fool me again
Do it nice.
Dear life, I don’t know you any more
and I still don’t know myself either.
I am not asking for a treasure hunt.
But I’m asking for a walk. A safe one. Under the sky. With myself.
Dear life you, looked good in colours
You made me believe I liked black.
but I don’t.
I thought that there can be white.
instead of gray.
Dear life, I thought gravity will not tear us apart.
I preferred love did that, like in a Joy Division song
That none of us believes in any more.
Dear life, there are tears. And wasted years.
You stole my carrots
and left me at the station,
if she were talking to you, life.
Songs on repeat. Nights without sleep. Booze, people that thought I can save them when I can’t even save myself from me.
Strange encounters. Freaks. Freaks. Freaks. Dear life,
I don’t want perfect things.
or a perfect body.
I don’t want a saviour or poetry.
I want things to be calm. Not that calm before the storm. But me.
Dear life give me me.
You created a school of thought that taught me to romanticize death.
Dear life, can we get back to you?
Pretty please, dear life.
Maybe we can go together in therapy hours, or talk to a Buddhist.
We can even go dancing, or we can just sit.
I just want you to be happy
I promise I’ll do my best
Not to deceive.
Poetry MashUp by Ioana Cristina Casapu and Cătălin Stancu