poppy in a jar

Into the future

poppyinajar — Mon, 01 Dec 2008 22:59:12 +0000

I drift away slowly through deprivation into the future. My hands lie there waiting to be picked up. Take them. Teach me how to feel. Again and again. I do not mind how you do it aggressively. I know you are full of love. I will never show you I am unsatisfied. I am satisfied in a different dimension. I can not let you leave me. For too long. I can not let myself die. I must be there. I will wait. I see the horizon. Be. Yourself. Ignore other conventions. Slip. Through the gap. Slip. Slip.

I will follow you into the dark

poppyinajar — Sun, 16 Nov 2008 00:31:36 +0000

I will come into your heart. Into the hole in you. Fill you. Make you who you are already. Teach you to feel. To memorize every point on my body. Show you my skin. And let your fears hide in my hair. I will make your thoughts perverted. Let you rip my head. See my dreams. I will guide you. I will follow you. Into the dark. You will be loved. You are.

Craving to be an addiction

poppyinajar — Mon, 28 Jul 2008 22:24:15 +0000

Craving. To be. An addiction of yours. Desire to own. To be desired. A testimony of your love. In my hands. Written in my body. I scream my apprehensions away. My eyes are reaching out for something graspable. In the shadows, under the ice sheets of my mind. Locking me in. My own silence. This emotion rescues me. Anticipation. Of you.

Boxlike compartment in your dream

poppyinajar — Sun, 22 Jun 2008 18:06:56 +0000

Slowly oscillating through feelings. Making love to life. Anarchy in nothingness which runs through my fingers like honey. I am a passionate angel. Sinful and shameless. I want you. In my pocket.

City is so melodious tonight. Dance your time away. Take him to your dream. Let him inside. Reality is only an invention. This is a fantasy. You’re just a dreamer. Your fingers, your legs and your lips are deadly tools. Your thoughts are safely locked in a drawer. Upper left drawer in my imagination. Open yourself. Nothing matters. Believe me.

When I grow up I want to be a dreamer

poppyinajar — Fri, 06 Jun 2008 00:08:20 +0000

I want to be a sea. Wind. Seagull. Lover. Teacher. Your nothingness. To show you your way into me, and to miss-guide you. To consume you. To give to you. I dream of being able to touch your skin. My skin is the air in which you bath. My mouth is wine. Feel me. Look at me. Dream of me. For a kiss I will give up my body. My body is yours now. If you love me, if you do, I will fall under you feet. My everything will be yours. Today does not exist. Lustful dreams run parallel to time.

Protest against tired feelings

poppyinajar — Fri, 16 May 2008 21:42:06 +0000

I ran very fast today. Through pain and jealousy. Every road has an end. Unless it is circular of course. I want to fly. At least float. Above it all. Above myself. Below the stars.

Silently the sea decides to take me. Rain is drowning in the water. My feet are cold. Misunderstood. The wind in the hair tying to tell me something. I don’t understand your language. Heal yourself.

Flaming mind. I am so thirsty. Love makes it all bearable. Music makes it all bearable. A state of confusion. A weird blink. I want to tell you something. Listen to me. Listen to me. Listen.

Memories from the future

poppyinajar — Sun, 04 May 2008 00:06:06 +0000

Spring means peonies. Summer means seagulls. I will skip autumn and winter. Then spring means falling in love. Not again. But for the first time. Again. And summer. Summer flies. Wings and echoes of the times when you were young.

Earth is in orbit. Moving moving. Repeating the history of four seasons. Too slow. But fast enough. I won’t stop observing it all. The winds coming from the north. Hurting all that is fragile. Sun rising from the east. The east and the lure of women with almond shaped brown eyes. Earth is in orbit. Please rewind.

The story of tomorrow

poppyinajar — Sat, 29 Mar 2008 02:08:44 +0000

Three hundred and fifty five butterflies all waiting to be kissed,

For I only know that the sky is red, and September is near again.

Rivers, flowing from left to nowhere,

Blue old dresses in vintage shops of London.

My heart is naked, clouds are my pillows,

And this, my sad faced angel, is the story of tomorrow.

Fair skins, blueberry nights, and the forgotten desires,

Desired artists of the story of your heart.

Everywhere I look

poppyinajar — Wed, 26 Mar 2008 10:48:58 +0000

Everywhere I look I see confusion. Sometimes everyone in the world become points in space on the surface of the Earth. And then, then they become one big ball, so that I can no longer separate individuals. Confused about who they are and how I feel about them. Until I melt into that ball myself. And daffodils bloom all around.

Long time I haven’t heard from you

poppyinajar — Mon, 24 Mar 2008 02:05:26 +0000

Chocolate. I like chocolate. It is sweet and rich. I feel guilty and satisfied. Annoyed and happy. It is meaningless and important. Just like life.

Relationships are so fragile. Heart is a very tender and fanciful muscle.

I much more prefer just to hold chocolate in my hands. Wrapped in gold foil. I feel it’s weight and sometimes I can smell it. There is never an intention to open it. It is somewhat predictable. Just like life.