Gently put your teeth in me
Devour me from within
All is lost
As if I had never been.
Gently put your teeth in me
Devour me from within
All is lost
As if I had never been.
I run and I run. My legs are burning. They are heavy as lead. But I keep running. I run towards the dark alley that is calling my name. An alley I would avoid at all cost every other night. Not now. Not tonight. You are calling me. And I have to find you. I need you.
“Come Cathy!” I hear it loud and clear. And I keep running. And running. Because I want to catch you. You are my safe haven. I need to find you. Your presence will give me peace. And I keep running towards the dark. And the unknown. Edged on by the hope to find you, my love.
“Come Cathy!” And I want to come to you. But I can’t reach you. No matter how fast I run, you are never there.
“Come Cathy!” It beginning to be frustrating. Devastating. Desperation sets in. How can I reach you? And I run and I run. Until I can’t run anymore and I stop. Everything is dark. There is no sound. Claustrophobic. Empty walls are closing in on me.
“Are you there?” I whisper. It sounds like the loudest scream in this absolute silence. I can hear my blood pounding in my ears. And I realise that I am afraid. Fucking scared, actually. Of this silence. Of this void. Of this emptiness. Of you not being there.
“Are you there?” I whisper again. There is something cold and wet on my cheeks. Tears? And I can’t fill my lungs with enough air to breathe properly.
“Are you there?” I turn around several times. Turning in never-ending circles. I don’t know where I am. Lost and confused. And I am so alone. And so cold. Cold and alone. Inside, and outside too. Lost in the dark. In the unknown. Inside my dream.
“Come Cathy!” But I can’t do what you want me to do. I am not there. I am not real. Nothing is.
I wake up drenched in sweat. I remember the voice loud and clear. I know the voice. Your voice. My heart is pounding against my ribs and I can still hear my blood’s flow in my ears. It makes me deaf to every other sound surrounding me. Around me, the bedroom is bathed in a red hue from the sun touching the closed blinds. “Come Cathy!” resonates behind my eyes, and between my ears. I don’t know what it means. I can’t remember a thing. Nothing that matters. And in my agitated state it feels as if someone is watching me. I am at peace. I am safe. Because this is real, and you are not there.
I wish you were here to take away my fear
Knowing that you are just around the corner
A touch and a swipe on the screen away
Today, I need you to be here in my ear
I need to hear your voice, your words
Just for me and for you; you and me and you
Your guidance would help me through this struggle
Giving away my thoughts and my control
I feel this mind is losing a battle again
But I don’t dare to get in touch with you
I can’t burden you with my egoism
I wish you were here to take away this fear
Little known truths
Of love. Loss.
Vulnerable. Almost unbearable.
Empty heart. Heartbroken.
Words lick my skin
Inside. Craving the sin.
These truths became fantasies
Heaven weeps. Lost minds?
Yielding strength. We gave up.
Old wounds become new scars.
Untouchable thoughts. Forever hidden memories.
(Dedicated to my best friend who passed away two years ago. He shared the Thin Lizzy song “still in love with you” with me one night. (Sharing music was our thing.) I listened to that song earlier and that’s what inspired this poem.)
She lay awake in bed; wide awake. The time on her alarm kept moving forward until it was 04:26 in the morning. She only heard silence. No birds tweeting in the trees, no chirping in the grass. In the far distance, she thought she had heard thunder, but maybe it has just been a plane. What kept sleep so elusive? It was a memory.
“I made a mess,” he chuckled. I need to take a shower,” he said still trying to catch his breath. “Will you stay on the line?” She was somewhat surprised by his request, but she agreed. “I won’t take long,” he added. She heard the rustle of his sheets and the padding of his naked feet on hardwood floors. Doors opened and a shower curtain was pushed aside and then she already heard water running. She could almost see the water cascading over his naked, still flushed body. She heard how the water got caught in his hair and how it was released with a splash against the tiles. She heard bottles being open and shampoo being squeezed out. It was all so mundane, yet so intimate. And then he began to hum. She smiled. She loved listening to him. He wasn’t holding back. Just being himself. It filled her with a sense of serenity. Words were added to the sound of water. They didn’t make sense to her, and yet… She kept listening in. The water stopped and the curtain was pushed back again. Was he brushing his teeth now? The sheets were rustling again. “Are you still there?” “Yes, I am” she said fondly. “I need to go, I need to meet with my brother.” It wasn’t how she had the call expected to end, but he never did the expected. “I’ll get in touch, okay?” “Yes, yes okay. Take care.” “It was nice talking to you, sweetie. Bye” It had taken three months before he got back in touch.
She had been listening to his new record. It had been released weeks prior to her sleepless night and one particular song felt familiar. For days she wondered why. Until it hit her like a brick wall. That day in the shower, he had hummed the melody and sung some of the chorus’s words. Had she inspired a song? He hadn’t said anything in that regard but still… A girl can dream, can’t she?
“It’s in the way you need me,” he sang.
5am. The sky was changing its colour. A little over an hour before the alarm would go off. And she tried to hold on to his memory. A man who had since left her life. She still saw him at the edge of her life, but it became easier to ignore him these days. It became easier to not wait anymore. Most days anyway…
This is the end of the line
This is where I tie my noose.
I have been loosing my mind
But that’s okay, it lost its use.
I dance and I turn around and around
A manic laughter erupts from my face
My thoughts are now unbound
Lost in my lost mind’s maze.
Where is my mind?
It is drowning in a sea of forgotten memories.
The agony has turning me blind
But there is hope for recovery.
New hope under a different horizon
And the noose releases its grip around my neck
Isn’t life mesmerising?
I am back.
My weakness is how strong I can be
My earthly vessel is my kingdom
With blind eyes I can clearly see
Incoherent thoughts fuel my wisdom.
I can’t let go
Broken mind and closed off heart
I won’t say “no”
New dawn. New start.
I still taste you on my lips, you, the one who left me reeling
I cherish what you left and accept that you don’t share my feeling.
I push you out of my soul
If it just wouldn’t leave a gaping hole
But it is okay
What else am I supposed to say?!
You vanished in thin air
Where you ever there?
I guess I was in this alone,
Available for a couple of moans.
I say goodbye for now and erase you from my page
But I admit, I am still waiting in your cage.
How is it possible that I fell for you?
Someone who knows only his own view?
You brought the light and stole it again
You were the ink in my pen.
Did you ever appreciate who I became for you?
Or was I right and I am one of a few?
I let you see me in all my glory
And shared my life’s story.
I was too blind to see that you never cared about me
That I was just another fish in the sea.
I am done waiting for you to use me again
Forgotten. You. Me. Us. Goodbye.
Hush little sweetie…
Under these covers we hide;
Ready to experience our secret desires.
Raw and feral lust overtaking –
Inside of me everything is overheating, pulsing
Continuous moans whispered in heat
Ah… Don’t stop the waves from flooding my body.
Night and day and dark and light
Everlasting lust ties us together in this hurricane love.
I’ve been on this road for many years
Trying to forget all those tears.
And in the deepest low
Behind the darkest glow,
Hope was always hiding
A light was always shining.
I’ve been on this road, walking endless miles
Ignoring the past’s echoes and its cries.
And as I stopped and sat down
It took me a moment to understand that there were new friends in town.
My restless travels and my frantic searching were in vain
This was where I wanted to be stayin’.
I’ve been down that road so many times
Creating stories and words in my minds.
And in the shining sun
When I felt like I needed to run,
I found solace in my broken thoughts,
Tying together their fraying knots.
But this is not the end of the road,
This traveler’s pace has just been slowed.
Soaking in the beautiful landscape
Even the one that was manmade.
Just resting my weary eyes
And listening to the path the soul takes when it flies…
Spirits in need
Under crumbling bridges.
Bring back whatever it is you stole;
My love, my lust, my gentle touch.
Iridescent stars light the way
Shining on – and guiding our lost minds.
Souls meeting in silent understanding,
Intuition tells us what we need to do.
Our selves lose importance
Near the edge of lust.
Leaves dancing in the rain
Sun licking the morning dew;
Reflections in the window pane
Grey skies turning blue.
Behind a concealing mask
Feelings are an uncomfortable mess,
To understand is an unbearable task
And it’s easier to leave than to stay, I guess.
Toxic thoughts and actions;
Driving so-called friends away
Understanding their reactions
But missing them forever and a day.
More light in the dark
More tears in an ocean
Another life’s mark
Overcome by emotion.
A head full of spinning thoughts
Cowering in the corner of my mind
To unfurl their knots.
Once again, I am left behind.
A soap bubble of for never
Floating up to the clouds
A memory to stay forever
Hidden from the crowds.
I am the shadow in my light
I am the hope in my despair
But after my lastest sleepless night
I can say that I am still there.
I could scream but the most important people would not hear a sound. And everyone else would look away in embarrassment. I am not myself anymore. Someone stole the essence of me. Sucked it right out of my thoughts. I am not feeling myself.
Under lilac trees
No orange hues
Illuminating the streets.
Leading the ways
Pictures that no one will see
Songs that will never be heard
Nonsense makes sense
And she loses direction in life’s labyrinth.
In plain sight
In the stillness of the night.
Walking under shadows
Past willow trees
Found on her knees.
Iridescent internal life
Completed by imperfections
Darkness becomes light
It has always been you.
Left our hearts bleeding
Ends came too soon
And I keep wondering if I bruised your
Soul more than I will ever know.
Everything happened too fast.
Did we play a game and lost
Or did we fall and failed to be caught?
Not you me? Not me you?
Talk to me!
Dreams were shattered
Ice cold water drenched us from within
Seldom did I feel this protective and worried
And I want you to be here
Please, don’t disappear.
Pounding hope, inside
Eyes filled with fear.
And I wish I could
Reach out to make you see they way I see.
There is an ocean between us
Filled with our tears
Sadness and regrets
All washed up on the shore.
The distance is growing into a road
Paved with silence
Thoughts and lost passion
Driving us farther away from home.
The bags on our shoulders are heavy
Packed with longing
Memories and grief
Bringing us down on our knees.
The waves are swallowing what is left of us
Drinking it in
Forgetting and forgiving
Until our path brings us together again.
The wind blows away our differences
Far far away
Higher and higher
Before they will vanish into nothing.
The ocean turns into a puddle
Obstacles easy to overcome
Past and future
And a friendship will bloom.
The moon is blinding me
Hiding our sin
I am not sure if I am okay
If I could just see…
If I kiss the sweat off your skin
Could our love see another day?
If we drowned in the sea
Or let the sun wear us thin
What if the love let us sway?
How wrong could that be?
Would we believe the voices within?
And would we take a chance to let our love stay?
How many days until we are free?
How many lost battles until we win?
There has to be a way.
Pale and unseen
Crumbled and bruised
So many ways
To be de-creased, uncreased.
But no one is there
To pull at the edges
Of your sheet.
Too many lit fires 🔥
Too many coffee stains
Not a blank page anymore
There is room left
To write a new story
I put tulips under all the pillows, and then I set fire to the house. I watched from a safe distance and listened to the wails of the approaching sirens. I was convinced that the house was haunted and the only way to get rid of the evil spirits was to burn it down. I sound crazy, and maybe I am, but what’s done is done. The flames ate at the house, and the clear blue sky turned to a dusty gray. It was hot, and I jumped back when the first windowpanes exploded. A crowd had gathered to look at the spectacle. My neighbor looked on in shock. I heard the voice of his ex-wife and saw her with the kid on her arm. She looked more annoyed and less alarmed. I didn’t like her. I should have burned her too. Evil witch. I turned to go, but my neighbor held me back. “I am so glad you made it out of there alive,” he pulled me into a hug. I froze on the spot. Why did he care about my well-being? No one cared about crazy old me. I didn’t move, and I didn’t return the hug. I pushed him away and made my way through the gawking crowd. I passed the firefighters who were laughing and joking. It was just another day at work for them. One of them was showing his cell-phone around. “I cheated on my spouse. And it wasn’t the first time.” He laughed out loud, and his colleagues clapped his shoulder as if they admired him for deceiving his spouse. For the second time in a short time, I froze. I knew I had to kill him too. He was a sinner. There is no place for sinners in this world. I moved closer to the firefighter. His scent reminded me of the smell of the T-shirt from a B-52’s concert I had bought in the 80s. A strange association, perhaps only made because their song “Rock Lobster” was blaring from the stereo. Rude. These firefighters were rude. I remembered the time Leslie called me a leech. It was time to spring into action and get closer to the firefighter. “I was in that house,” I announced, feigning breathlessness. I saw his eyes blaze. He clearly loved to be a hero. “Let’s get you to a paramedic then,” he had his arm around my shoulders, and I took the opportunity to play the weak victim. I melted against him, and he straightened his shoulders to catch me. “I feel so weak in your arms,” I breathed against his neck. I felt his breathing change, and I smiled to myself when I dropped my arm to brush it against his hard bulge. He was an easy one. In no time I would have him where I wanted him to be. “Take me away from here, please. Take me somewhere private.” He just nodded and snapped his fingers in the direction of another firefighter. “I’ma gonna take this fellow somewhere safe. Got it? Cover for me.” The other man’s smile spoke louder than words as the hero escorted me off the premises of the burning house. I stirred him to a hotel down the block. I insisted on checking us in, and he agreed without putting up a fight. The room was tiny. A typical cheap hotel room. It was perfect to finish this hero’s life. Above the bed hung a picture with a man wearing a plate on his head. It was odd, but the vivid colors made it something special. For a long time, I looked at it. The man pushed his body against mine, and I let him. He kissed my neck, and I let him. We undressed clumsily. He was in a bigger haste than I was. I ordered him to lay down on the bed, and he did. This was going to be so easy. He was beautiful to look at. I straddled him and kissed his lips. It was the last kiss he would ever taste. The kiss of death. The only one this sinner deserved. He struggled a lot. But I was stronger than he was. I was stronger and possessed by the voice in my head. I needed to end his life. And I did.
After I got dressed again, I picked a tulip out of the floral arrangement on the small table and placed it on his lifeless body. I stepped out on the street. The smell of fire clouded the road. I took a deep breath and exhaled with a satisfied sigh before I turned to walk down the pavement; never looking back to where I was coming from.
My grandfather lied to my grandmother, I guess it runs in the family. Didn’t Shirley Bassey sing about history repeating itself? I looked at the letters on the table in front of me. My grandfather had written them to his mistress, and now, after his passing, I had found the mysterious box in the back of his closet. It had taken some effort to open it. Keylocked without a key. The tingling in the pit of my stomach had been right. Secrets. Hidden for decades. I chuckled. But, there was no humour in the sound. I had been lying to my wife too. I had written letters to my mistress too. Well, emails, but it was the same, basically. I scrambled the sheets of paper together, folded some of them neatly and put them in their hiding space again. I shook my head. The revelation, the impact of it all, and the way it would change my whole family if I chose to not keep this hidden, had come in an innocuous coffee shop. Of all places. Family secrets were strewn on a worn Formica table in a public place. I felt embarrassed. I looked at the other tables around me. No one seemed to mind me. The table next to mine was vacated, all that was left were dirty dishes and five bucks on the table. I waved the waitress over and asked for another double espresso and a blueberry muffin. She smiled at me, taking the purple lollipop out of her mouth. For a moment I thought I had seen a piercing on her tongue, but maybe I was wrong. The air smelled of the artificial sweetness as she held the lollipop between her fingers while she jotted my order down. The woman was nice enough to look at, but I wondered why she couldn’t remember two simple items. She winked at me, put the lollipop back in her mouth – and, this time I definitely saw the shining piece of metal on her fleshy tongue before she turned and moved to the counter. I looked after her. Definitely someone I would take to the hotel, I thought to myself. I released another mirthless chuckle and looked at another letter. I almost blushed from the words I read. The handwriting was pleasant and easily readable, but the words… It was more descriptive, more detailed than I ever wanted to know. My grandfather seemed to have been quite the stallion in bed. I thought back to my business trip to Berlin last summer. I changed positions to accommodate my emerging boner. Yeah, my grandfather and me, we shared the same genes. On a whim, I decided to keep the letters to myself and ask the young waitress out. If she was only half as good as the German girl from last summer, she knew exactly how to use to piercing in a way that would bring me lots of pleasure. I grinned when she approached. I didn’t have a guilty conscience because of my wife. As I said, I guess it runs in the family.
I had this system for getting exactly what I wanted out of people. I needed help. That much was clear. I needed money to pay the bus ride from this forsaken town to go to the big city. Such a cliché, but I had dreams and aspirations. I looked up and down the street and back at the bus driver, trying to understand his gestures and thinking about how to use my skill for my benefit. I was good at reading people. Amazing even. I lowered the zipper of my parka and climbed the steps. “Excuse me, Sir?” My voice was higher than usual and laced with sweetness too. He looked up at me grumbling something that I didn’t catch, but he waited for whatever I had to say. “I really need to take this bus, Sir.” He scratched his forehead, and I could see irritation form on his face. Before he could say something or kick me out, I leaned in closer to him. “The thing is, I got mugged tonight, and my money was stolen and,” I kicked it up a notch by trying to fake tears “Please. I will do anything you ask, just let me take a seat on your bus.” I whispered and waited in anticipation. To my right, I heard a chuckle. The man scrutinized the driver and me with a knowing look. I wasn’t above begging now, and the desperation must have shown on my face. He shook his head and addressed the bus driver: “If you don’t take chances,” said the man in striped pajamas, “you might as well not be alive.” There was an insulting kind of wisdom in his words and the driver huffed. He shook his head, mumbling about not making him regret this and moved his head in a way that told me to move on and find my seat. I nodded my gratefulness at the man in the striped pajamas, who shook his head and turned to watch the people outside, not sparing me another glance. I hefted my backpack up over my head and sat down with a sigh. My great escape from my overbearing home. Ever since mom had met Herb, life had changed. She had always been nosy and wanted to know everything. I stopped writing my diary because she kept reading it. I hid everything that was revealing about my personality because I didn’t want her to snoop around. She kept cleaning my room and changing my sheets and fixing my clothes when they had a tear here or there. But when Herb moved in, things changed. I remembered the first evening he spent on the couch as if the house was his. His feet lay on the coffee table, his disgusting toes visible through the hole in his sock. He smelled bad, and I was surprised that there weren’t any flies around him. He scratched his belly and asked me to go fetch him a beer. Stunned, I had gone to the kitchen, found a beer, uncapped it, and I had walked back to the living room. He grinned at me reaching his hand out for the brown bottle, and I snapped. I didn’t want him there. In my home, with my mom. She deserved better than him. I turned the bottle upside down, and the foamy contents soaked his pants. The growl and the gnarl were fierce, and Herb jumped off the couch. He raised his hand, and I waited for the blow, but it didn’t come. Instead, I saw my mom standing next to the couch with her hands on her hips. “What happened here?” She demanded. I looked at the bottle and thought fast, “I tripped,” I lied. Herb growled again but didn’t argue. “I’m going to change my pants,” he said, and I turned away from my mom, relishing my victory. I was propelled back to the present when the bus began to move. I wasn’t interested in the passengers and didn’t care to look at those who moved past me. The seat next to me jerked, I did my best to hide my curiosity, but in the end, I turned to look at the stranger. He looked rough and raw as if he had spent the night on the streets. His lip was split, and his eyes were of an alluringly dark brown. There was a frown on his forehead as he rummaged in a bag on his knees. “Fuck,” he swore and let his head fall back. He must have sensed that I was observing him because he turned to me with a smile. He reached out a hand that was covered in fingerless gloves. “Hi. I’m Henry.” His breath smelled of fresh mint. “Sammy,” I offered, but I didn’t take his hand. I was rude on purpose. I didn’t like strangers, and I hated feeling physically attracted to someone I didn’t know. “Suit yourself,” he chuckled. “I’ve seen you before,” he continued speaking. I looked at him with an annoyed sigh. If I had seen him before, I was sure I would remember him. There was just something about him. Something magnetic. Magical. Rough but attracting. “I saw you standing at the bus shelter in the rain. It was pouring, wasn’t it? Good thing we didn’t get soaked.” I nodded. I still couldn’t remember him, but it was true that I had found shelter from the rain and there had been other people too. It was still pouring outside. I decided to ignore the stranger for the time being. The ride was long, and I needed a little bit of quiet to process these last days. I was exhausted. I put my head against the window. It was cold against my heated skin. I closed my eyes and drifted off watching landscapes drive by. I am not sure for how long I was gone, but I woke up to the sound of Henry crying. It had been a long time since I had seen a man cry and Henry wasn’t just crying, he was sobbing. Intrigued I turned to him. He was still clutching his bag with one hand, in the other hand, he held a faded picture. I tried to get a look, but the light didn’t allow me to see anything. “Are you okay?” I asked, and he shook his head, wiping his snotty nose with the back of his hand. Of course, he was not okay, if he had been okay, he wouldn’t be crying. Henry tilted the picture in my direction, clearing wanting to speak but not finding the words. Two young men in uniforms had their arms around each other. They were laughing, I could almost hear the sound escape from the picture. It was a happy memory and yet, here sat Henry, crying. “I sometimes can’t help it,” he hiccuped, “I cry. It’s the stress. He was torn apart by a mine. I lost my leg. I wish I had died that day and not him. He was the best man you’ll ever know.” I nodded, not sure what to say. Henry was a stranger after all and I was on this bus to find freedom. I put my head on my hand on watched the blur outside again. I couldn’t help but wonder if there was such a thing as freedom. We were all prisoners of our memories, trapped in this moving vessel.
Waiting at the crossroads
Waiting at the station
For you to come home.
Waking in the morning hours
Waking whenever I am asleep
Cause you will come home.
Wading through deep waters
Wading through muddy thoughts
Because you will come home.
And as I wander in my mind
And as I try to remember your eyes
I keep waiting – for you to come home.