The Road (throwback poetry)

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…

No words to say

They don’t see what I can’t tell, they can’t understand that I am not well.

Everything is perfectly fine, apart from me and my mind.

Another morning filled with silent tears, this is the worst in years.

I can’t go on and I can’t give up, but I need to make this stop.

It’s crippling me, breaking me into pieces; the overwhelmed feeling increases.

I know they love me, they see me, but even their love can’t free me.

How can they see what I don’t tell, and that I am living in my personal hell?

I dread the moment when i lose my strength and cave. Until now, I have been brave. For now, I safe. Please, keep me safe?

Say something

If my sun isn’t rising, it is because the flames in my soul are burning my sins.

I dream awake and try to find answers that are tattooed under my skin.

And every time the rain hides my tears, there is an explosion within.

Without asking, you took myself away from me, and I don’t know where I’ve been.

Redeem my sins. Tattoo your love on my skin, and spark explosions within. Tell me where you’ve been. I am waiting for you to say somethin’.

underneath the surface of my skin (throwback poetry, June 3rd 2016)

Underneath the surface of my soul hides a raging silence. One that becomes louder with every scream. One that haunts me in my sleep.

Underneath the surface of my soul lie many hidden emotions. Those that are never far from being voiced. Those that bubble up until they become an explosion.

Underneath the surface of my soul lives a ghost. One that will never see light, yet never succumbs to darkness either.

Underneath the surface of my soul are rotting lost hopes. Those that make me have regrets. Those that pull me down and make me drown.

Underneath the surface of my soul a whisper is repeated. One that says ‘I’m still in love with you’. One that says ‘I’m still loving you’.

Underneath the surface of my soul are blooming fragile bonds. Those that will last forever, even when they are broken. Those that constrict my heart with their beautiful intensity.

Underneath the surface of my soul is a place for you. One that will always stay yours. One that will never fade – even when it is invisible.

Gone

I was most productive and creative while you walked next to me on my journey. You were that whisper that inspired me, the dream that haunted me. You were the determination that kept me going. And when you decided it was best for us to be apart, you became the essence of every poem I ever wrote. Your memory is fading and your voice is silent. My misery is less tormenting and my emotions less pronounced. Your soul is not entwined with mine anymore. Gone is my productive and creative streak.

A thousand lies

The more I think, the less I am

The more I love, the less I feel

The more I write, the less I know.

Whisper. Run. Slow.

All the flowers wilted

All the words lost their meaning

All the lives will fade.

Whisper. Run. Too late.

Nights turn into days

Friends turn into lovers

And we stop to remember.

Whisper. Run. Burning ember.

Greed

Not a finger – I need the hand
Not the hand – I need the arm.

Not a country – I need the world
Not the world – I need the stars.

Not a minute – I need an hour
Not an hour – I need the day.

Everything – give me everything before I lose my mind.

Not a sentence – I need an paragraph
Not an paragraph – I need a book.

Not a whisper – I need a scream
Not a scream – I need a song.

Not a like – I need love
Not love – I need care.

Everything – give me everything before I lose my mind.

Not in love

No rush to see you leave. No desire to chain your needs to mine. I don’t intend to be your heart’s thief. But I’ll allow it, it will be fine. Too damaged to accept admiration. Too much grief to feel elation. Shy and confuse and happy at once; using two-thousand and sixty-five different fonts. A light had blinded me, and so I slid back into the dark. I wanted to see and allowed the first spark. I am not in love, just intrigued. I am waiting for the realisation that all of this was dreamed. It is not, I know for sure. And a tiny piece of my heart will from now on be yours.

Oh honey

I fumble with my words and stumble over my soul
Honey, without you, I am not whole.
But how am I supposed to tell you that
I don’t regret the day we met.
So many unexpected moments that we shared
So many things we never dared.
But honey, without you I am not whole.
My being becomes a black hole
As I forget who I was
And do what this woman does.
Just a missing piece is who you are
And I have been wishing upon a star;
But honey, don’t forget, without you I am not whole.

Time

Time is running out. The sandglass is emptying itself, but the time that slips through our fingers now can never be retrieved again.

We stand on the sidelines watching it happen. Listening to the paroles that have been ingrained in our souls, in our minds since we were helpless children.

I dare you to stand out and live your own life far away from the usual conventions. Far away from the judging looks of the self-proclaimed elite.

Who are they to tell me what should make me happy? And yet, we are all kept in line, silenced, living in invisible shackles.

I admire those who are free. Those who live. Those who are seen as misfits, dropouts, freaks, weirdos, punks, hippies…

I could never live that way, even if I wanted to. I’ve been brainwashed into living in shame. Hiding my true colors so that society keeps on loving me.

Since my earliest years, I tried to be a rebel. But I was only ever ridiculed. The latest target I make is playing at being a writer.

Ah, but it’s water under the bridge. At least that’s what I pretend. I am not fazed by their words. It’s a hopeless lie.

As time is running out and slips through my fingers, I understand that I am who I am and only I have the power to be me.

I live a life without regrets. I try too. I know that the past can’t change, but it shaped the person I am today. All of it.

I am not perfect, not flawless. I have qualities and I have quirks. Everyone has. Now I am working on becoming my friend again.

We should stop the self-sabotaging and the undiscerning following. If we can’t see things differently, we will grow old in our stink.

And we will wonder what life could have been if we had danced when we had the chance. What life would we have had if we had taken the time to live?

*Repost from July 20th 2015)

Some days

Some days I wake up and can’t breathe

Some days I wake up and I can’t remember

Some days I wake up and I am full of you

Some days I wake up and there is nothing left

Some days I wake up and all is forgotten

Some days I wake up and I am free.

tbt May 2014

I.

I feel.

I feel small.

So very small.

Realizing, that no one was waiting for me and that I walk alone for most of my journey makes me sad. And just like that, my bubble bursts and I crash down. Hard. I am breaking. Inside. All the thoughts pour out of me and are scattered and shattered all over the floor. All over me. Like a blanket or a second skin… I try to sort through them. Understand. But I don’t. It is all in vain and it doesn’t matter any more.

Because no matter how hard I wish to be seen, I am not.

No matter how much I want to be loved, I am not.

At least that’s what I see. It’s dark where I am. I am in pain. Inside and outside. With thoughts and emotions strewn all around and over me.

I need you to tell me, that everything will be alright.

But you never do.

You never do.

Never do.

Do.

How to mend a broken heart

Listening to your even breath

peaceful as it is

not revealing the tormented soul

underneath

if I could

I would

but tell me, how can I mend

your broken heart?

Your whispers sound like cries

searching for and exit

speaking of unseen hurt and a lost

love

if I could

I would

but tell me, how can I mend

your broken heart?

If I could

I would take your pain away

if I could I would make you mine to stay

through your tears

I recognize you

for years I waited for you

to hold you close

and if I could

I would

and now I know how to mend

your broken heart!

In 2013 I wrote a story called “A Long Journey to Love”. It was my first original novel and it is nowhere to be found anymore. For now. This poem was written exclusively for that story – from one character to the other. It’s one of the earliest posts on this blog too. Please enjoy.

Just a feeling

(repost from April 2016)

It’s a feeling.
Nothing more than a feeling.
I feel the rain that is falling on your soul.
It makes you suffer. You are in pain. It makes you hide.
I offered help, but you didn’t take it.
It’s selfish, but you are too young to go. I am not done.
I still need you in my life.
In my heart.