january, be kind.

i am starting to sense your location, you are somewhere in the basement
beating on a makeshift drum kit songs that I can hardly stomach.
i'm floating up the stairwell, with my fingers shaking frantic
thinking softly what a concrete mess we live in.

- location, freelance whales

[Alexandra Auger&Cürük visne]

some nights, i
watch you sleep.
and my madness,
it quietens
to a dull thud
of the heart.
and you, unaware,
dream away;
exhaling golden hope.

“your heart is like a great river after a long spell of rain, spilling over its banks.
all signposts that once stood on the ground are gone, inundated and carried away
by that rush of water. and still the rain beats down on the surface of the river.
every time you see a flood like that on the news you tell yourself: that’s it. that’s my heart.”

haruki murakami, Kafka on the Shore

2011 is almost here. 4 more days to go.
january, be kind.

you could break a bone, or a heart

in the waters tracing features, did they scare hardened creatures?

in that murky green reflection, did they warn you of dissection?

- turtle island, beach house

[witheredbones]

it seeped in,
(through the chimney?
the window left ajar?)
it sat at the table, unseen,
we had dinner at eight;
it sat between us
pronounced an expiration date.

i’m a far more flawed human being than you realize. my sickness is a lot worse than you think:
it has deeper roots. and that’s why i want you to go on ahead of me if you can. don’t wait for me.
sleep with other girls if you want to. don’t let thoughts of me hold you back...
i don’t want to interfere with your life. i don’t want to interfere with anybody’s life.
like i said before, i want you to come to see me every once in a while,
and always remember me. that’s all i want.

- Haruki Murakami, norwegian wood