ME: No need

Growing stronger on your own
No need for me anymore at all
The goal was reached
You can face the world on your own
I'm no longer necessary.

The tears are rolling,
but I am happy -
you made it out of the shell
and whatever shape contains you now
you are happy too.

Do not remember the day I'll tell you I'll be leaving
go free and live the life you have
I'll keep the shape of you right next to me
for the rest of mine - for all I had before.

ME: Enough was not the same it was before

I woke up today

from a year-long slumber

and saw your shadow

in the dust,

in the whispered silence,

in the fires - dead and cold,

in the open door,

and the night outside.

My heart was numb

until I felt your absence,

until my skin cracked in pain

missing your touch,

needles from your eyes,

the bruises from your teeth,

the sweat from your breath,

the whisper of your love.

And then I knew -

you were gone forever!

Enough was not the same it was before - 

you tired of the games,

grew old from the rains,

weary from the pain,

exhausted from the searching,

heartless from the findings.

I knew before I lost you - 

you've lost me a million times.

We ran towards each other

in the wrong directions.

Around the globe we went

to find ourselves in one.

Reached different worlds,

only in our pain together.

ME: Today I killed

Today I killed.

What love was left in me is dead,

stifled by reason and by pain.

Burned us both to ash,

to stop the fire from raging,

to dry the tears and sear the hearts.

Today I crawled out of my soul - 

an empty husk of hope and dreams,

left it wither in the cold,

went along the way and be who they want me to.

Heartless, loveless and alone,

what loved you - dead,

what hated me - still living.

What you loved in me is gone -

the suicide of faith and of despair.

Today we died.


----------------------------------------------------
The poem image also appears on MeMyselfAndEla's blog here

ME: Untouched

Pic from Rock&Roll Bride

Would you have hated me if I had stayed?

Would you have stayed, if I hadn't run away?

I know my tears are not yours -

the sky will cry with me tonight.

Your fears were mine however

to bleed my dry into the daylight. 

The lips unkissed they hurt the most,

the skin unseen - on fire - cold,

the breath not caught had drowned me,

the words not said - had killed us.

Without a sin the sinner walks

alone again, on empty paths.

Tomorrow's sun to blind my eyes

and burn the memory off into the sky.

Разруха (Авторско)

Camille Kleinman

С воля за растеж и разруха

минавам през живота

без да поглеждам назад...

Към руините на моите любови,

към раните оставени по нашите тела,

към празното в душите и мъртвите, черни сърца.

Вчера построих Рим,

а днес го подпалих - просто така.

Така и ще те обичам - 

без задръжки и детински слова,

с огън и истински бури,

в чаша или завихрени около света.

Много ли ще ти е моята силa?

Моята вещерска свобода?

Ha темпото сърцето ти ще издържи ли

или ще се превърнем в пепел до утре сутринта?

ME: For all those times

For all the times you didn't see me,

for all the times you didn't care,

for the times you looked beyond me,

for all the times you were simply scared...

I was brave to stand beside you,

I was strong to take the blame,

I was kind to look around me,

I was there to save the day!

For I'm the one who knows your story,

and I'm the one who truly cared,

who'd pick you up when you were broken 

and give you wings when you would dare.

I didn't ask you for a promise,

and yet you went beyond the Sun - 

you gave the world - all empty-handed,

expecting to believe the beautiful charades.

Enough of lies and silly doings,

enough of cowardliness and cheap acts,

I leave you here with your misgivings,

for I no longer have the tact!

For the times you didn't listen,

for all the times you looked away,

for all the kisses you forgot you promised,

and all the times you went away - 

there was someone who would hear me,

there was one who saw my day,

there was someone who would kiss me,

on the forehead and who would understand.

ME: A drop

Just a drop to fill the silence,

one drop to stop the pain,

another small one for the sadness,

and few on top to paint the rain.

With it - it's a life of madness

and without it - horror story without end,

for emptiness is still the loudest

when everyone is screaming

through the silence of my veins.

Alone with you - seated right here near me - 

as happy as I have ever been,

alone and cold in the pool of blackness,

if a drop I drowned - of misery. 

ME: Never alone

In the darkness,

on the street,

in the corner,

in the shadows,

I'm never alone,

lonesome as it may be...

There's one for each - 

different and the same,

She's gougers

and we're all her children,

made from

and

for her! 

She's always there -

waiting quietly,

to take me home

with a whiff of air -

the breath, second to last,

She greets me

and with the last

She takes me along...

If you are ever lonesome,

my precious boy,

don't you whimper and cry

for She'll be there for you,

to take you - one day!

With her - through the darkest light

and bring you home -

to me,

breathless and calm.

You are not alone!

ME: Overrated

The importance of life

is overrated,

much as the importance of will and the like.

We all turn to dust

with only dust to remember us

and only dust to follow.

Not a speck left from our transgression,

neither from our obedience to whats true,

nor from our hopes and our dreams.

This whole quest -

it is futile,

the efforts - in vain 

and the hope - still born in the chest.

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.