letters from november

 -

You placed your fears on my arms..

“have them when the morning comes.”

but I was a son of night.

and I ate them in one bite.

-

I heard you wanted to call me

but you never did

and I eventually stopped remembering

our breakfasts.

-

I’ve collected every book you’ve ever mentioned.

did you watch every film I ever loved?

-

I’ve wasted all my Friday evenings,

drinking them away.

and Saturday mornings, 

trying to convince myself of my superiority

over your existence. 

-

The words that existed only into sounds came out of me

and I did not care for their meaning anymore.

-

თეთრი მანძილის ფერია.

-

You said you’d live with me.

I said I’d die with you.

our marriage was wrong from the very end.

-

Put yourself in my shoes.

we wear the same size.

They’re old and sad.

leather has become soggy and wrinkled with rain

• my skin.

They’re too cold

• my character. 

They’re too afraid of you

• my insecurity. 

-

How do you tell someone

that you write letters when you’re too high

when you don’t have anything else to do

when you’re afraid that if you died tomorrow all everyone would remember were your silly videos 

that you call them letters because they don’t really rhyme 

that you’re alone but not lonely

that you’re not cared for and you miss when it was someone else’s job to care for you

that life hasn’t gone the way you wanted it to go to

that you’re started to be a disappointment but you’re also scared that valuing other people’s opinions is becoming too important 

that you go back to your happier days and replay them before sleep

that you miss home but don’t have one anymore 

that your worth is not why you should love yourself

that your imagination about your life hasn’t allowed you to be with others

that you’d be better off if you were born an animal

-

My biography will be called “dogs and fairies”.

-

თვალები, რაღაცნაირი,

ჩამკვდარი რომ აქვთ, 

ხო იცი.

პატარა ბავშვებს კი არა, 

უფრო 40 წლის კაცებს,

ცოლებს და დეიდაშვილებს, 

ძმებს და მამიდებს. 

მტკივნეულია მსგავსი თვალები.

-

Waking up actually feels like falling again.

sleep is where I am me.

put on my lipstick and get away

from the windows.

they’re not high enough anyways.

I am leaving you my pearls.

once worn,

never deserved.

-

My pretend “self-love” wants your attention.

my demanding “self-doubt” needs your hands.

my muscles on my thighs need your lips.

take me with or without my stories,

real or imaginary. 

take. me. back.

-

I picked up cigarettes again.

who’s to stop me?

potential love affairs?

they would never happen anyways.

mother, who knows less about my life

than about her cat’s?

friends who only want funny me?

boys who only want handsome me?

girls who only want sensitive me?

bosses who only want charming me?

who needs rude me?

who’d love sad me?

You’re not here..

-

Every time I pick up a paper and a pan

one phrase only dwindles in my mind - 

“paper planes”.

and it doesn’t matter how much I write it down.

it doesn’t go away.

I don’t know how to make them.

I don’t even want to make them.

I don’t like them.

But they’re stuck in my mind. 

-

Last night I was walking back from the subway,

smoking again

and it was so quiet.

it was like the world had finally stopped and 

stared at me!

at Me!

Me!

And I stared back at it,

or at my reflection in the eyes of the beast - 

a long and grim silhouette of a man

wearing a coat he found on a coat rack;

boots he bought - used and heavy;

sweater - blue and old.

and there had never been a more honest moment in my life.

autumn leaves were carried by the evening wind.

and autumn world was carried by me.

-

My preferred mean of death is by a snake bite. 

a one eyed snake brought me into this world, and a snake should take me out. 

agreeable symmetry it is.

-

I miss taking a train with you.

-

Please don’t notify me when he writes back 

please leave it unanswered.

-

You set me free

but I found another prison.

-

I don’t think I can go through life

reaching to things anymore

I don’t think I am giving up on life

that is beautiful and rich

but with every day that passes, I am.

I know I will never be rich.

And for some people I will probably 

always be poor.

But I have known nothing but worries

while reaching.

And I don’t want to worry anymore.

I just don’t want to be there.

I just want to be here.

-

Trust your senses.

know who you are.