Falling For Them.

Falling for Them.

As their hand reaches out to mine,

I could have sworn Michelangelo

getting jealous.

-

What was I worth to touch a hand like this;

the skin pale as marble and the finger caressing my palm,

tender as they mingle with mine.

-

A picture, Van Gogh could've never see.

A statue, the greeks could never create,

Picasso gasping in reverence, as I feel their skin.

-

A smile, the sun would envy,

a brightness Icarus could never reach,

Aphrodite leaving the throne of the muse.

-

And those eyes.

Medusa would be the one turning to stone,

Sappho, writing endless poems.

-

Their laughter soft as the clouds in the sky,

hearing it,

makes me wanna fly.

-

The waves on the shore creating a melody

which could never compete with their voice.

Gentle, lovingly and so, so warm.

-

The warmth of their arms which hold me safe

in the night of storm,

until we see the beginning of dawn.

-

Hephaestus would burn

if he touched my heart when I'm with them,

Prometheus never reaching the fire to steal again.

-

The love of a masterpiece hundreds of years

still there,

poets and artist, dying to see,

-

but they just look at me.

And they hold on to my hand.

As I'm falling for them.

Glowing star sticker on the wall of an airnb.

Curtains hiding the past like a child's face playing hide and seek, not wanting to be found.

My thoughts went missing years ago, but I can't even find them on a milk carton. They left no footprints and forgot to take the pain away.

I am merely a ghost of my body.

A reflection of windows in the town of flames.

It keeps you warm but one day you will burn.

I am not here.

Not really...

A wall of glass hides the things in front of me.

But a good life is impossible enough to try

And so I shout out:" I want to change the world!"

But between the laugther of friends and the explosions of bombs, my voice gets lost.

I ask myself "When will the sound waves of my voice form a tsunami? When will my words bite like sharks to those who dare stepping into my home? When will my speech sink the ships of the enemy? When will the sand be swapped away from beneath their feet with my words? When will the rhythm of my talk soothe them to sleep?

When will the ripple of my tone bathe the kids in summer?

"

Speak up for yourself. Scream to the ones who will not listen, say the words of those without a voice. The soundless words hold every thought and feeling of the writer.

Place every vowel, every consonant with care. Every letter changes the meaning. Every word can change a world.