A prisoner
- me
Преди една година, на 13 февруари главата ми роди няколко реда, които записах в тетрадката си и отбелязах датата. Днес, 13. 02. 2017, се сетих за въпросната тетрадка и за съдържанието и, купища малки текстове или неструктурирани поеми. Въпреки това чара на черната книжка е точно това, колко сурова и истинска е, всичко попито в жълтите груби страници представя плахите ми стъпки в това да се изразя писмено.
A prisoner in a cage made up of myself I am
and it is in my own will
to break it or dwell it.
There is no person, a thing
that can destroy the chain.
It is only my voice in power now
but how powerful it is
that I do not know.
I never knew how speechless I could be
until the moment my voice became a key.
I never knew how loud my heart could beat
until it was the only sound left in the room.
I never knew how vital air is
until my lungs emptied, shrank.
The laugh, the smiles, how fragile they are
that I learnt when quite all became.
And a crack on the wall means
million drops of blood on the floor.
A shatter of the silence, my thoughts are the hammer.
/Ed Sheeran - I'm A Mess (x Acoustic Sessions) /
and it is in my own will
to break it or dwell it.
There is no person, a thing
that can destroy the chain.
It is only my voice in power now
but how powerful it is
that I do not know.
I never knew how speechless I could be
until the moment my voice became a key.
I never knew how loud my heart could beat
until it was the only sound left in the room.
I never knew how vital air is
until my lungs emptied, shrank.
The laugh, the smiles, how fragile they are
that I learnt when quite all became.
And a crack on the wall means
million drops of blood on the floor.
A shatter of the silence, my thoughts are the hammer.
/Ed Sheeran - I'm A Mess (x Acoustic Sessions) /
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