I can hear you, asshole

Hands keep falling down like rain.

Screams that resonate in my ear.

Nights interrupted by the sound of pain

Have become all that I can hear.

I am finding my way through anger,

I am choking my tears like drinks.

I am having nighttime visions that gather

In which I swallow you up in a blink.

The protection of a life living.

Fists that have turned into knots.

A return of violence given.

A soul for a soul if you must.

You have the confidence of someone who thinks,

That we will ignore the way you are screaming.

That the world will not be listening in.

That you will always win.

Think again, my dear.

Fuck your facade

Do you know that I can see right through you?

Your smile doesn't reach your eyes like its supposed to. 

You're lying through your teeth and make it look easy,

And your greetings settle on me like they're greasy.

You're a trauma response in a leather jacket.

All fake smiles and thinking we will get it.

What's behind closed doors is not closed off.

I can hear your anger reverberating through the walls.

Fists and screams 

And faux alibis,

Downing that bottle 

Of cornerstone whiskey.

Until you see red,

Until you forget 

All inhibitions 

That you never had.

I can hear them landing.

I can hear the screaming. 

I can hear everything

Except you stopping.

I can hear the moments

That broke the innocence.

I wish my pen was a weapon

So I could write you to an end. 

You're nothing new.

You're a story as old as time

And it's a knowledge I already knew.

I have years of practice of holding my breath the longest….

Waiting

Two erratic heartbeats won't become a

Solid steady one, won't slow down, 

Won't become a story we want to tell.

Your fists didn't replace the beating 

Of my heart. It was just a beating.

The stories we tell

Convinced me I could save you.

If I could just love harder. 

Be better. 

Stay softer.

I jumped in front of Medusa for you

And you blamed me for turning to stone.

For being too hard.

Too unreachable. 

Was there truly another way for me to survive?

I have since melted,

By Medusa's administrations

(Who understood, victim to victim,

How unlovable love can be).

And I've learned to 

Be loved harder,

Expect better, 

Enjoy softer.

You have stayed the same.

Fake smiles,

All teeth,

Always somewhat unreachable,

Unfortunately, still not dead.

Are you waiting for me to safe you?

Erode

If I called would you answer?

Would you pick up the phone and ask;

“What can I do to help you?”

Or will you tell me a story about yourself?

If I gave you my silence would you be happy?

If I broke my back and my tongue for you?

If I said I was unhappy what would you tell me?

I often wondered what would you do.

Cause lately I've done a lot of thinking. 

About the past that was you and me.

Well mostly it was a lot of you, dear,

And little space to exist as me.

So many years to not exist in.

So many times I made sure I was erased.

So many ways to be unhappy. 

So much I compartmentalised away

I won't call and I won't answer.

I won't pick up because I don't need to know

How life has been treating you.

I am healing the me you tried to erode.

Past

We always want more time.

A repeat of a history where it didn't run out.

Like family dinners or vacations 

When we felt unbothered and loud.

We are always left with things undone.

All we can feel is that void.

Everything we wish we said on repeat.

Memories that only us now hold.

The past is becoming stories only I now tell.

I am so afraid that I won't tell them well.

Look away

It's easy to claim you don't see it,

To keep painting your world as idyllic,

To see your friend as all harmless

Your enemies and hate remain separate.

This way the pain becomes nothing 

That you need to reflect on.

Your conscience cleared from wrong doing. 

The earth righted so it keeps spinning.

If I don't speak up that's the issue.

If I use my voice it's too loud,

You want me to leave it festering,

Let me deal with the fall out.

Cause it feels like not your hurdle

Just a bridge that I now burned.

My name made things curdle. 

Doesn't matter if I am hurt.

It's easier to tell me that I'm a problem,

Then to see what I say.

The only action you now have to take,

Is to push me away.

Tell me I am too demanding,

Tell me I am too harsh.

It's the best way to ignore

The breaking of my heart.

Isn't the truth of the matter this?

You don't want to hear the truth or any of it.

You don't want to know what is wrong.

So you can continue on.

The way I always run my mouth

To the sound of an applause

When the spotlight is ways away 

Of being shone on their face,

Feels in hindsight hypocritical, 

The way my sermon is seen as spiritual

Until I call out your name.

Then I'm the one to blame.

Gaza is nog niet vrij

Ze verwachten blikken 

Naar de hemel of de grond

Maar niet richting de aarde 

Of gefocussed op de ruines.

En dat we door gaan met onze levens.

En dat iedereen denkt dat het over is,

Dat deze tijd begon 2 jaar terug 

En enkel maar tijdelijk was.

Achter gesloten deuren

Kunnen bommen nog steeds landen

Met precisie, accuraat, 

En de stilte van vermoorde journalisten. 

Achter gesloten deuren

Speelt het meeste van dit verhaal af.

Niet enkel gesloten door hun keuzes,

Maar omdat we alleen kijken

Wanneer wegkijken niet meer kan.