your name always feels strange on my tongue
i wonder if i swallow it, it would stab my inside or is it this deep sting i endure everytime your name crosses my brain, ready to pop out in odd places it shouldn’t so i roll it up and keep it in between my clenched teeth
hold it in with all my might so it’d never come out,

i will never set it free… i will never let it be…

so i call you john, and so my friends knew you as john, john the musician, john doe, a strange man from a strange land, so i made you anonymous
i made you nothing despite of everything
in spite of the things defining you and your strangely
tragic life, “daddy left when you were born,
mommy gave you away when you were four…”
somewhere along the life you became a star shining too bright you’re exploding too much light

still you are the storm, who flies across the sky, who paints it grey, who makes it rain makes its lightning glares down onto my vulnerable scraped skin, who foresees future within the past, pretending to make it alright with sunshines and rainbows and pots of gold…

so you are john, a strange man from a strange land, whom i write my letters to, i say “dear john, now my tongue has troubles saying i love you…”