Poetry

Sigur Rós – Gong

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To feel your heart beating, accelerated, against my chest gives me LIFE. It drags me out of everything where I exist and pulls me to you, to the meaning of having and being. We lay down and our skin disappears, our muscles stop happening and our souls melt and burn. You rest in me and I disappear in you. I don’t know where I am, knowing only that none of this can be real. You give me moments of your LIFE and stretch my senses, penetrating in my eyes like an arrow in a missing heart. I grab you and try to feel the edges of your music, which rocks me in soft whispers. I have everything in a second and I have nothing in fours instants away. Close to the edge I grab you strongly, you feel my touch and kiss me violently, tearing apart my energy and building everything inside me. Every part of me is yours, every part of me flies, side by side with you and with what you make me feel. I travel madly, with my eyes closed, completely delivered to the sweet flavour of disappearing without doing anything, of existing without fearing anything.

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My world is yours.

Silence

PJ Harvey – When Under Ether

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Silence comes slowly. It walks, slides through the walls, brings darkness with itself and lays it within me. It closes my eyes for a couple of seconds, it cuts my air for a couple of minutes. I listen to the calm I feel, I feel the silent noise as the weight of the decisions made. Images jump pompously in my mind, spread through my lungs, control my senses. I blink some times, lean back. I blink slowly, see the abstinence of light as the reflex of the lack of meaning I have. I lean back and I think. I let my mind travel far, I let it hurt me with the weight of knowing what I have done. I search for total oblivion, but the images, the tears, the emptiness… everything is too enlightening and present for me to bury it somewhere in the past. The feeling of regret hugs me completely, spreading its tentacles around my heart, without killing it, but allowing it only to beat very slowly. Slowly enough for me not to die, slowly enough for me to feel with no LIFE inside. Silence comes slowly. With description as its terribly strong characteristic, it comes so slowly that I only realize it is there when there is nothing else to see. The images I want to see remain hidden behind memories… I function like a robot, acting just responding to stimulus, with my mind on constant conflict with the reality of this sort of present.