ME: New year but not quite

They said the year changed,

I didn't notice.

They said the luck is new,

I don't have it.

They say the life is new,

it isn't.

New places, new faces -

old fears, old aches.

New year for new beginnings -

old blood in the old wounds.

New year for a new awakening,

nightmares turn around the clock.

 

ME: Сутрин

Ароматът на праскови сутрин

и допира на твоята плът.

Парата от чашата вряло кафе

и гъдела от топлия душ.

Слънцето вплело лъчи във косите,

И шепота на всички тези листа.

Ласката на нежната ти ръка

и щастието в погледа на странник...

ME: Salvation

I tried burn it all to the ground

but the rain wouldn’t let me…

It pours from the skies

trying to drown us within…

May be this would be salvation!..

But I’m empty, a figurine with no dreams,

dead are my eyes and dried are the feelings,

hollow I float and pray

to gods that never existed ,

for a way out that never came to be…

ME: Song for the others

Among the weak and heartless

I am the bravest.

Among the sad and helpless

I am the strongest.

Among the lost and lonely

I am the luckiest.

Among the clowns 

I am the saddest.

Among the pawns

I am the smallest.

Among the winners

I am the last.

Among the others

I am lost.

МЕ: Fear of happiness

I've never been more afraid in my life.

ME: The seasons to forget us

And the sky will open above you and I

And the rain will pour washing our souls away.

The lightnings will fall over us

Scorching the remains of what we used to be.

And the snow will fall down

Over the dirt with its cold purity

Hide the smell of the rotten

And bury the misery underneath.

And the sun will melt it all away

And none will be left to be found

Under the watery blanket of ice

Not soil – but a blackened stone.

All dried up and forgotten

As if it has never been

For who is to say

If it ever was anything but a dream?

ME: If only would my poems talk back

If only would my poems talk back,

Respond to all the secrets, I have told them…

If only they’d share with me their thoughts

And reason why am I so lonely…

If only would my poems talk back,

Shouted in my face their deemed opinion,

Crush at once my hopes and dream

With sticky fingers from the whitened sheets…

If only would my poems talk back,

Told me that there’s no redemption,

Blindfolded lead me to the edge of reason

And forsake me there to roam insane…

If only would my poems talk back,

Them I would’ve never been so hopeless

For there would’ve been so much of them

                                                                That I would’ve never had to walk alone.

ME: I won't think of it tomorrow

A flight –

It wasn’t – just a dream.

I didn’t burn my wings

Reaching to the sun!

I drowned them in the mud –

The ground I never even left…

I thought of it today,

I’ll think of it tomorrow,

How was I the last to know

How far you’ve gone?

I thought of it today,

I won’t think of it tomorrow,

Enough of this –

I’m all drained of my sorrow!

ME: And she was his

He had her –

not friend but a mistress.

And she was his –

to hold but not to keep,

for he – for her

love had never felt.

And she was his –

to toy and toss away

when the morning twitters came,

to lock her in the deepest pit

until the yearn came back at night,

until he needed flesh to feed his life.

And she was his –

nothing but a doll -

her heart was torn apart

and her eyes were black with night,

her bones were aching  lonely,

her blood – frozen clogs amid her brain.

And she was his,

but hers – no more…

And she was hurt

but couldn’t walk away.

And she was his

until the fire took her in

and Death freed her away.

ME: Invisible (not really a poem, but a gasp in verse format)

“Home!” –

she sighed in relief

as she closed the door behind her!

But it lasted only for a second.

Only so much it took

for her reality to sweep under the door

and fill the room with emptiness.

It wasn’t hers!

And it was empty.

It was so far away

from what she knew

                               and loved…

The loneliness had clenched its fingers

Around her neck and no door

could separate them.

The cold had entwined with her hair

and would lurk through the night.

The darkness would hide in the corners

                               and under the bed,

but would never completely disappear

                               or dissolve.

The silence would whisper in her ears

                               and shout in her dreams.

But at least the others –

the others weren’t there to see her anymore!

That’s all that was important at the moment!

She’d make friends with her demons.

She’d talk to them,

read to them,

bed with them -

become part of them,

but at least no one else was around…

With their fake concerns,

with their accusations,

with their watching eyes…

At least there she was invisible!

МЕ: Да те моля нямам сили

Искам да те моля, а не мога.

Наместо - пиша ти за свойта самота.

И пак се будя нощем да усетя

безкрайната ни, вечна празнота.

И пак ти пиша – значи моля…

Но истинска ли е,

ако измолена е обичта?

Освен да пиша и сама не зная

веч какво да сторя, как да се спася.

Ще пиша, а пък кой ли ще го види

и има ли значение, уви?

Написаното лесно се изгаря,

а споменът остава да гнети.

ME: Set my wings on fire

You’ve set my wings on fire

Every night you saw me cry

You’ve let them have me

And on my soul they prey.

Ride the tears I’ve shed

As a river through oblivion

Lock away the sunrays

Don’t burn your eyes away.

Stay where you are,

Don’t move and let it die,

Embrace the pain for once

And with it slip away into the drain.

ME: Поредно безименно

Когато моя мъничък свят се разпадне,

А навън се случват толкова по-страшни неща,

Когато утеха и помощ вече не търся,

Когато намирам щастие сама с мойта тъга,

Когато очите не виждат вече нищо напред,

И когато душата боли да се връща назад,

Когато го няма изходът търсен, мечтан,

Затворен оставаш в своя собтвен зандан.

Когато светлините угаснат

И актьорите се пръснат по своите места,

И когато нямаш ключ от вратата,

Към която си гледал устремено в нощта,

Залутай се сам и далечен,

Със своята болка приятел бъди,

Никое зло само няма да дойде,

Почакай, но все така ще боли.

ME: За какво ми е вятър в платната?

За какво ми е вятър в платната,

Ако няма звезда да ме води

По пътя към дома

И да ми дава пососка

И малко утеха

Със студената си светлина?

За какво ми е вятър в платната,

Ако нямам компас да ми сочи

Към пристнището и брега,

Където си ти,

където ме чака и любовта,

ако изобщо ме чака и тя?

За какво ми е вятър в платната,

Ако нямам котва да ме спре,

В залива и да ме спаси

От бурите в безбрежността

И да удържа поривите диви

На изгубилата се душа?

ME: The nightmare

I hear your words

as gunshots -

whispering in my ear,

piercing through my brain

leaving me numb

on the bottom of the tub.

I see your eyes

like needles of glass -

knitting in my heart,

opening my veins,

draining my blood

on the floor of your days.

ME: Mono world

In your mono world

I was the color,

erased with the water

of my own tears.

I hope you are happy

in your 2D universe,

once I’m gone

forever into the void.

I wish I could

sneak in a brush

into your life

and paint you a heart.

But I know now

these dreams are all empty

I’m diluting away

erased by you – heartless.

ME: Please give me a sign!..

Every night

All I see it is your face

All I reach to touch – is your hands

But in my dream

All I know that someone else

Is right there with you.

Just a bed – empty without you

HOW DO I FORGET?!

But my heart is not empty without you –

I just know you will come,

I think I know!..

My hands won’t stop reaching out –

Like it’d be the first time to touch your face,

My eyes won’t sleep –

As if for the first time – every night is like this.

Every night I forget the world outside I draw you next to me - all the same

And the fear that I’ll lose you again only makes you more beautiful…

Please give me a sign!..

-------------------------------------------

This is NOT an original work - only a translation of the lyrics of an old and fav song from Bulgarian
video

ME: By tomorrow morning

It's half past one

and you're somewhere out there

anywhere but here.

It's half past one

and I'm alone here

wondering where life had gone.

It's half past one

and the night is empty

filled with the nothingness of us.

It's half past one 

and my head is spinning

full with the emptiness in sight.

It's almost two A.M.

and the house is burning

even ashes won'be left of me

by the sunrise, by tomorrow morning...

ME: When...

When her hair is a mess

And her make up - smeared,

When her smile is broken

And her eyes - teared up…

Would you dare and love her?

Would you stick around?

When her jokes all turn gray

And her fingers are cold,

When her lips are dry

And her thoughts wander about…

Would you run away?

Or stay and love the blues away?

ME: It's never enough

It’s too much

Or

It’s too little

It’s never enough-

Just enough to be unhappy…

Cause it being enough

Is me being happy…

And happy is hard!

Happy is brave,

Happy is content,

Happy is complete…

Happy is “you” in the others without the mask,

It’s “him” in you without the pain and the questions,

It’s  “you” in him for his and your lowest lows…