Monthly Archives: March 2016

The unknown 

Searching to define forever
It’s taking quite some time
Oddly enough
Seemingly an eternity.

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Tragedy

It was the night he remembered
But she forgot.

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The others

“You’ll thank us later,” they said. In a mess created by oneself, they had cleaned it all up. Mess after mess, pile after pile, plunge after plunge, deep dive after deep dive. You get my drift. Misery had been lurking in every possible corner and they had had enough. In a moment where you are not capable to see clearly, where you are no longer able to set things straight, they take over. An intervention for the better, although you fight it. But they’re stronger. They haven’t been in the battle, they’ve just been watching on from the side lines for a very long time. And they’ve had enough. They’ve decided. There’s nothing you can do about it. You have no more force to fight. They’re your only option.

So you do thank them later. Sometimes the day after. Sometimes much further down the line. Friends, also known as shit pile picker-upers. And for this, you always thank them.

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To reverse

One, two
Hurts just a little
Three, four
Hurts a bit more
Five, six
Pain is increasing
Seven, eight
It’s getting harder to take
Nine, ten
Oh dear god
I think it’s killing me again.

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Love

  

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A color

If blue
Not ocean
But bathe in
Enwrapped
In sapphire depth
Morning
Evening
Midnight must haves
To swim
In heaven
With one look
Mesmerized regard
Oh
How magical
To plunge.

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To have

He held her. Ever so tightly, he kept at it. Her sobbing eventually slowed and the tears fell at a more harmonious pace. Yes, it was all so tragic. He couldn’t lie to her and so his words of comfort were limited. Saying that everything would be alright would be a fib of grander sort, one he could not bring himself to tell.¬†All he could hope for was that his embrace was warm enough to keep her calm.

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A goldfish

To lose love
Misplaced
In a drawer
Or on a shelf
I cannot recall
Where I left it.

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Dear life

Just ruin me
I beg you
Tear me apart
Break my bones
Strip my skin
Because nothing
Could possibly be worse
Than the misery
You’ve already put me through.

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The fear

If there’s a story, sure. If there’s a moral, most probably. But I have no interest in any of it. Why? Because this is heartbreak. And it’s the worst fucking feeling in the world. No matter how beautifully I try to describe it, the feeling still remains: I’m shattered, I’m hurt, I’m torn apart. And it has everything yet nothing to do with him. I doubt you’ll ever read this thus I can be completely honest and exposed. I did it all wrong but I had the best intentions. I had such high hopes. Then timing came and screwed things up. I cannot speak for you. This is a one-way perspective, as seemingly it always was. I’ve realized that now. What started as a whirlwind of pink embellished splendor quickly turned into a hurricane of thundering, black, lightening bolts. Sparks flew uncontrollably, igniting fires I have yet to put out. You make me so anxious.

I’m sure there’s a lesson to be learnt, I’m just not sure that I’m ready to understand. To me the plot is still thickening and I fear the ending. To you, it’s all over. You’ve taken your bow. The audience applauds your role. It dawns on me. An actor. A stage. Lights. An audience. Where was I? Too drunk to see probably.

No, I don’t know what I’ve learnt. I really don’t know. And perhaps that is the scariest realization of all.

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