close the door, please


34 notes memorials: part nine (by nikolas brummer)
this is the place of expectations; of wishes and desires, of fears and sorrows, and the way life plays that our convictions never came true. when I was younger, I was afraid. people were always around, especially at night, laughing and fooling with others, and it appeared plausible to me that they might be out to hurt me. they never were, but I was scared.then one faithful day, the day I had followed my heart wandering through the city, my eyes laid upon you and what I saw has stayed with me ever since. none of what happened ever went along with what I thought to be happening, and as we departed, going here reminded me of you.sometimes I took the tram to the city and sat in a café nearby. I may had brought a book or some paper to write on, but it never quite helped me settle down nor focus. I rather sat closely by the window and watched the people passing by, hoping that one of the faces I catch in the crowd, is yours.as I was expecting you to come along, you never did. and I expected it to be hard. I expected this to last for long.I no longer come here. no more desire, no more wish, for I set them all free and watched them sway tenderly to you, or buried them in my yard and waited for yellow roses to grow. yellow roses, I wish to caress them, but I refuse. my touch could destroy.I’d talked about companions, I’d talked about love. now I talk about ways, directions, and this was just another place for me to pass.

memorials: part nine (by nikolas brummer)

this is the place of expectations; of wishes and desires, of fears and sorrows, and the way life plays that our convictions never came true. 
when I was younger, I was afraid. people were always around, especially at night, laughing and fooling with others, and it appeared plausible to me that they might be out to hurt me. they never were, but I was scared.
then one faithful day, the day I had followed my heart wandering through the city, my eyes laid upon you and what I saw has stayed with me ever since. none of what happened ever went along with what I thought to be happening, and as we departed, going here reminded me of you.
sometimes I took the tram to the city and sat in a café nearby. I may had brought a book or some paper to write on, but it never quite helped me settle down nor focus. I rather sat closely by the window and watched the people passing by, hoping that one of the faces I catch in the crowd, is yours.
as I was expecting you to come along, you never did. and I expected it to be hard. I expected this to last for long.
I no longer come here. no more desire, no more wish, for I set them all free and watched them sway tenderly to you, or buried them in my yard and waited for yellow roses to grow. yellow roses, I wish to caress them, but I refuse. my touch could destroy.
I’d talked about companions, I’d talked about love. now I talk about ways, directions, and this was just another place for me to pass.

memorials: part nine (by nikolas brummer)

this is the place of expectations; of wishes and desires, of fears and sorrows, and the way life plays that our convictions never came true. 
when I was younger, I was afraid. people were always around, especially at night, laughing and fooling with others, and it appeared plausible to me that they might be out to hurt me. they never were, but I was scared.
then one faithful day, the day I had followed my heart wandering through the city, my eyes laid upon you and what I saw has stayed with me ever since. none of what happened ever went along with what I thought to be happening, and as we departed, going here reminded me of you.
sometimes I took the tram to the city and sat in a café nearby. I may had brought a book or some paper to write on, but it never quite helped me settle down nor focus. I rather sat closely by the window and watched the people passing by, hoping that one of the faces I catch in the crowd, is yours.
as I was expecting you to come along, you never did. and I expected it to be hard. I expected this to last for long.
I no longer come here. no more desire, no more wish, for I set them all free and watched them sway tenderly to you, or buried them in my yard and waited for yellow roses to grow. yellow roses, I wish to caress them, but I refuse. my touch could destroy.
I’d talked about companions, I’d talked about love. now I talk about ways, directions, and this was just another place for me to pass.

34 notes · mine, memorials, black and white,
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