Света Полченкова

I think judging others' rights or wrongs isn't correct. We all have come from different environment, different cultures that we have grew up in. Some good, some bad, some good memories and some hurtful pasts.  Each of us have had different events, incidents in our lives that shaped us to who we are...

I keep conversations unfinished because they give me hope that we could finish them someday. Things don't remind me of you anymore and I don't know if its good or bad. Insomnia is the revenge of all the things we ignore in the daylight. Being intelligent is a double edged sword. If I take a paper and write a poem for you, Would you promise me that you'll love forever? But what about the poems that I wrote about you? The thought of the person you love, not choosing you is dooming...

Writing a poem is sometimes easy, Like writing "Love" On her palms With my index finger. It comes naturally to us, Like flirting between two humans Who know poetry little too well For a normal mind to comprehend. Sometimes, it's as easy as jamming A fountain pen in my carotid artery And fill it with blood to write poems. But you don't do it, Because the blood spatter Will make a mess, As if Vincent Van Gogh Painted Red Sunsets Instead of "A Starry Night". And sometimes, We find poetry even when We're not looking for it...

She dances with Her Confidence on the Rhythms of Love and Poetry. You reach out and Grab my hand, And take me To your stage. And the words in my poems, Which are filled with Despair and Heartbreak, Start to tap on your rhythm. 1 and 2 and Twist! and Turn! Slowly and carefully, We try not to Step on each others feet, And We try not to Stare into each others eyes...