these shoes of mine has given in,
after just a quick run to the bridge
that stretches over the water
where the ships are.
kicking them to the side
i jump,
in the direction
of the harbour.
then it hits me;
i never learnt how to swim.

a star fixed in the sky

is not the one i'm looking for.
in fact i'm not looking up above at all.
i'm on the ground, staring at the stones,
the dirt and taking in the smells,
storing them in my memory.
then a walk to the pub
to lose the memory
again.

the day i leave home
i'll never look back.
the place i come from
will serve as a memory
that has no hold on the air around me.
fade way, far away
the ghosts are,
far away from my fresh dreams
every new day, a fresh entry.