aleatory

i will never heal
like this
i can feel myself bleeding from my past
the way i am, it hurts
sometimes so much
i can only feel numbness for others

i am afraid
if i leave this light outside for a while
i will never find it again
i am heavy
i cannot ask you to bear my two sides
as if it were nothing
i cannot crumble
under the weight of my past
and ask you to glue me back together
i used to do that myself
carry a bottle of glue in the back pocket
just in case

i’ve been put back together so many times
each time in the wrong order
that i am so tired
i drag my body around like a suitcase on never ending cobblestone streets
my mind an apartment that’s getting further away with each step
i drop pieces of me along the way
hoping
that one day i will leave that last piece behind

i wake up screaming from dreaming one day i’ll watch as you’re leaving and life will lose all its meaning for the last time

and no i never thought taylor swift would put it so well
i thought healing would feel like warm honey on my soul
but they say it doesn’t happen for people like me

instead it’s a system shutdown
instead it’s being paralyzed
instead it’s i miss you but i don’t know what to do with it
instead it’s a hammer drilling through my ice
and every time it feels like death

because i begged for your love in everyone i never had

you taught me that safety is a threat
you taught me that love is a lurking danger
a bait that waits for you to break
you taught me to wander the streets searching for the familiar scent
you taught me that one can love my actions but not myself
and i learned that love has to be earned by perfection
because if i’m perfect
you might stay

you told me you’d go but you never did
instead my nervous system adjusted to always being alert
to look for signs even where there aren’t any

i cannot talk without overanalyzing
without being hyper-vigilant
but missing the very signs that destroy me
i’m wired in the wrong way

i cannot answer a single question anymore
without getting lost in the gray cloud that is my childhood
i do not remember anymore
anything
except
that it never felt like home

they said imagine someone
who never feels the relief of a long hug
because they’re making the hug comfortable
for the other person

can you
imagine

i know you have never felt like home
but can someone else ever be home for me

ne čučim više pod nebom bez zvezda
posmatram
slike u triptisima prolaze pred mojim očima
čuvaju me neki izmišljeni svetovi
ovde nemam šta da tražim
posmatram
kretanje koje prolazi mimo mene
kao što se gleda kroz neki dosadan film
razvukao se
u meni neki meni neznan strah
umorna sam
od glasova od misli emotivnih transakcija traženja smisla u svemu
šta ako šta ako šta ako …
ništa
želim samo da jednom bude ništa
da ne pitam da ne kažem da ne objasnim
da postojim
razumljena

ako se sruši svet pusti me da ispijem kafu do kraja
i sačekam
dok ne dođe moj red

per me si va nella città dolente
per me si va nel eterno dolore
per me si va tra la perduta gente

zagrlila sam svoje pesme
izdrobila ih u paramparčad
pod mojim nogama
reka slova
ja, guliver

ako ih pustim
otpustiću poslednji deo sebe koji još uvek nigde ne postoji
pomišljam
kako je to veoma orvelovski od mene
ali ja
na leđima nosim svet koji nisam želela
i ovo je jedini mrak u kom mogu da ga oplakujem
bez izgovora
bez opravdanja
i bez snage
ja
ne umem da pretačem svoj bol u tuđe oči
jer ovo je moja olovna krv koju moram da nosim
ja
nikad u sebi nisam čuvala strah od tuđeg pogleda
stajala sam pod rendgen zracima kao pod suncem na plaži
a sad
znam
ako ne pustim to je kao da nisam ni imala
ako ne pustim preko aherona ne vode mostovi
ja
čije reči ne znaju za gramatiku za interpunkciju za pravila
od kojih živim
ja
koja sam uvek lomila okvire a bez njih nikad nisam videla svet
neko je pre mene složio te kockice bez pitanja
sudbina se negde smeje dovoljno glasno
ja ne
jer ovo su moja slova što gaziš

warm honey on my soul
that’s what i imagine it feels like

dobila sam nove olovke
pišu debelo i masno, crno kao noć
žvrljam po papiru, po zidu, podu i plafonu
plešem sa olovkom u ruci
graciozno
kao kakva balerina
iscrtavam krugove oko sebe
velike krugove čiji prečnici broje kilometre

napravila sam nove olovke
zapravo
izrezbarila ih od drveta koje niče u meni
precizno
kao pravi drvodelja
ove su olovke teške kao arturov mač
samo ih najhrabriji
mogu taći

stvorila sam nove olovke
iznedrila
iz krvavog ponora smrvljenih srca svih prethodnih olovaka
svi su voleli moje bojice
šarene i pastelne
nežne
sem mene
jer njihove su linije bile
isprekidane
i
nejasne

možda će sad umeti bolje da boje unutar linija

i cried the least
but screamed so much my voice left scratches on my soul
until there was just an empty screen
left of a person i know

it should be admired
my habit of settling for inevitable loss

one more question from the audience
but the answer doesn’t change

i have just enough dignity left
to not act hurt out loud
but my mind is saying words i didn’t even know existed

the mountain nymph sleeps in this room
the coordinates are the same
i am not
your new world through the looking glass
watch out for the water is deep
and the mirror has two faces

pitali su me
bila je jedna
o njoj se ne pišu pesme osim ove

ona kad uđe u sobu vreme se pretvori u slow motion
svet iza nje – sepia filter
ona ne nosi boje i od aksesoara ima samo svoje ime
ona je uvek sama
ona uvek dolazi kasnije nego što treba
kaže izvinite a misli pojela sam život za doručak
moje prisustvo je ovde svečanost kakva se ne viđa
pratim njen hod po pisti između stolova
njoj ne treba crveni tepih
ona ulazi u sobu da kaže
jutros sam opet porodila svet
ona nema pitanje ima stejtment
ona ne nosi štikle u njima se ne može rolati skejt po gradu
ona je do desne klupe u zadnjem redu pogledom gasila pikavce oko sebe
pisala mi je duge mejlove
sve sama kurtoazija
ako ne znaš gde je votermark
ona je jednom imala pitanje
zapravo nije bilo pitanje nego stejtment
jebeš tu kurtoaziju
znaš ono kad nije postojalo zamrzavanje slike
i glumci stajali nepomično dok njihova imena mile preko ekrana
slow motion sepia filter
može li se klikom sačuvati trenutak
kad je zagrliš ruke ti se iza nje spoje
ona je šredingerova mačka i kad je tu
o njoj se ne pišu pesme osim ove
ona je uvek sama
da li sam poslednji put odmotala nepotrebni crveni tepih za nju

sometimes i imagine sitting at a desk
it may be a cold winter evening of a warm morning in the spring
the only sound i hear are mouse clicks and keyboard buttons
while the words roll out in front of me on a blank piece of digital paper

sometimes i will look out the window at the trees
the 20 second rule
but more often i will turn around
and find you working somewhere behind me
and my eyes will stick to you like the first touch of honey on the tongue

mouse clicks and keyboard buttons
maybe that is what they call home