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Showing posts from May, 2017

Just add water.

I wrote a book about you, and the grey concrete that gave life to me. The dead cement, the rough surface that scratched my knees and made them bleed. The hot asphalt, glittering at the touch of sunrays that warmed my veins until blood would overflow and pour out of me like some gory scene in a horror movie only, much brighter. It gave life to me.
I wasn't born out of fertile earth or wrapped in sweet greens, I was, very much, a child of mud, sweat and dust. Tirana, this vicious parent with bullets between its teeth and a bleeding tongue.
Tirana this prison of sorts, beautiful, and charming and disturbed. My bipolar hometown, my little slice of hell. How I miss it. It gave life to me and slipped a pen between my fingers and a taboo between my legs and it told me to choose.
I do not think about taboos father, I am too careless, too temperamental for that. I am rough inside like the hot concrete that birthed and raised me.
I stare down, from a window up on the fifth floor of a pre…

I'm not holding on to the past. I'm scared of the future.

He's a wall made of flesh and skin and bones, hidden somewhere in this cold little brain of yours.
He's a wall that bleeds into your ears and slips down your throat. You are paralysed against him, the wall.
He holds up your fragile limbs and protects you from the outside world. The sun never touches your skin.
But that's ok because you don't want to know the feeling of heat and yellowness laying itself upon your naked shoulders. It is safe to only be naked within closed doors, on single beds, behind the wall.
He's an invisible wall protecting you from wanting more and it's pretty difficult you know... To let go.
Let go of safety in the shadows and reach out for more.

Down the road called 5th of May

Down the road called 5th of May I've seen the biggest outdoors market.  Green tents look like the pieces of glass I found last summer on the beach, but big, big glassy umbrellas underneath which, vendors shout prices, laugh and play loud music from their shops.  Green tents on one side of the 5th of May, underneath, colourful bags, shoes and dresses. Endless glitter, barbie dolls, cheap. Perfumes, jewellery, meatballs within a square meter of street.  250 lek for pink slippers in a stall selling mops. Something smells burnt. Meatballs. Cough. Springtime in marketplace. White buildings on the other side, don't lean against the dirt on the walls. But I want to be in the shadow! But dirt! But... the boys.  What boys?  The poor boys, dirty shorts, white vests, two bananas 50 lek. That's too much. No. It's too much.Tell them to go away. But. Cheaper.  A minivan, more mops, a donkey leans against a blue Mercedes A class. What does the donkey eat in a place without grass? Corn…