xeikkeiu's Journal

  • 2 Entries
  • svart på vitt

    by xeikkeiu on June 07, 2009
    Jag ville vara din beskyddare, din vän Jag ville vara så mycket mer Vi mot världen Och allt det där Men som du ser, jag är för svag Blev en orolig skugga I din ögonvrå Små, små sår av besvikelse jag rev upp igår Jag slog till när jag fick chansen Och jag är inte stolt Men om du sett mig i ögonen skulle du förstå. Mitt andra jag Hon förgör allt i sin väg Hon förgör allt hon håller kärt Men hon ser skiten för vad den är Ingen av oss är en ängel Ingen frälsare från lidande och skuld Jag kan inte visa dig vägen du ska gå Men jag kan hålla dig när febern blir svår När vinden blåser hårt Du får ta det som du vill Ta min hand eller vänd ryggen till
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  • -

    by xeikkeiu on May 31, 2009
    At some point you really helped us all And I think that’s why you find yourself In the mess you are today You suddenly popped into our lives Made them change course And No, I don’t think I can speak for everybody you have touched But I think that part is the same for all of us Who refuse to let go No matter what your own thoughts are I think you somehow saved us From something that we feared Or made us clean up some of the mess in our lives Yes, that’s true It would have been so much harder without you Backing us up So you became a precious person Somebody worth holding on to But you would always look far away Looking for another person Your feelings seemed so evanescent It made me afraid But the truth is You always kept each one of us in your heart Didn’t you? It is hard to share love For some might grow greedy While others feel neglected (No need to say, I have played both parts) Some may search endlessly for a replacement To project their feelings on Because emotions rarely disappear They merely change form, or change object To actually know a person You will inevitably receive scars Yes, I have them too Although invisible to the eye But not to the heart For it remembers Until my dying day I will have collected many scars And I will remember their purpose What they’ve taught me And what they mean But the word “scar” has an all too negative meaning Let us call them imprints instead Little pieces of you In me And I cherish them all.
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