Speluska's Blog

Read my mind

Counting days

Days can be count in seconds, minutes or hours,

It’s not a decision of ours.

She might see them in the number of meals she ate or the talks she had,

He may build them from moments that made him sad.

 

Some of my days are worthless consumption of the number of coffees I had,

I count the numbers of calls that made me mad.

Than I make a bad excuse why I didn’t pick up my phone,

In truth I think “Leave me the fuck alone!”.

 

Some days are good enough to leave my home,

When it comes to that I tell you so.

I can work or study,

But smiling is never my best buddy.

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August 4, 2013 Posted by | Poetry | , , | Leave a comment

Sleepy me

clown

I could sleep until I die,

I could sleep without a cry.

 

Tears and sadness are replaced by madness.

Pills have calmed me down,

Who is now a clown?

 

I’ve set some goals that I’m trying to reach,

That’s something that should be done by each.

August 3, 2013 Posted by | Poetry | , | 1 Comment

Nobody but you

changes

If you don’t like how your days look like,

grab a mic’.

Sing yourself a life that fits you,

don’t let unhappiness to beat you.

Stop negging and begging,

you have to do the dragging.

Make changes,

welcome strangers.

March 14, 2013 Posted by | Poetry | , | Leave a comment

Fun

image

Now it’s time to laugh and shine,
not to regret and cry!
I’ll forget you and let you far away,
what you did to me was not ok.
I’ll have fun like I did before,
and  I don’t mean it by watching Jersey Shore.

May 28, 2012 Posted by | Poetry | , , | Leave a comment

Destructive love

 

I know that it’s time to say goodbye,

oh lord how I try.

But when I see you I could cry,

I want you so bad that I could die.

I need you to be strong for me,

please walk away from me.

Stop giving me false hope,

making me feel like that you care,

oh how do you even dare.

You say that you don’t know what you want,

well that obviously ain’t me – can’t you see.

You are killing me,

I’m burning inside,

it’s something that I can’t even hide.

You are like a drug for me,

I need a rehab,

please help me.

May 16, 2012 Posted by | Poetry | , | Leave a comment

Broken wings

 

I end up crying,

it feels like dying.

My wings won’t fly no more,

I feel like a fucking whore.

I don’t won’t to love ever again,

it seems like there is no decent man.

October 25, 2011 Posted by | Poetry | , , | Leave a comment

A cold Sunday morning

Waking up for me always is a challenge to do,

even if I have a meeting with you.

Firstly I need to remember what day it is,

can someone help me please?

Now I know that the name of todays day is Sunday,

my classes are on Monday.

Secondly I try to recall what I was dreaming about,

oh my dear dream catcher why don’t you shout?

Thirdly I check my phone,

no messages neither calls – I feel so alone.

Now I need to get up,

dress up,

lets put on some make-up.

My warm bed will get cold without me,

a cold Sunday is waiting for me.

A cold morning is quickly turning to working Sunday,

trust me – I can’t wait for Monday.

October 10, 2011 Posted by | Poetry | , | Leave a comment

Sexy

Slovenia is a small country that borders on Italy, Austria, Hungary and Croatia.

It isn’t rare that people confuse Slovenia with Slovakia and vice versa… It doesn’t even make us angry. We just think that people are ignorant and not that our country is to small and not important enough to be known. Only when we say that Slovenia was part of Yugoslavia people say: “Oh, yes! I heard about Yugoslavia!” So this is link – you tell people the connection with Slovenia and Yugoslavia and the problem is solved. One of my colleagues got a brilliant idea.

Slovenia should be called SEXY,  that stands for Slovenia EX Yugoslavia!

October 7, 2011 Posted by | Slovenia | , | Leave a comment

Desperation

Your eyes.

Your smile.

I could die.

September 26, 2011 Posted by | Poetry | , | 6 Comments

Another bus

There is nothing I feel for you,

You are no longer my baby blue.

I am sorry to feel this way,

I swear I wanted to stay.

Things change so rapidly,

It is not a big psychology.

You could not give me what I needed,

I often felt like being cheated.

I still care for you in a way,

As a friend if you know what I would like to say.

It did not work out for us,

Now we both should catch another bus.

September 2, 2011 Posted by | Poetry | , | 6 Comments