maledimiele - Hello Poetry

Glimpses of memories from a past life Shadows of my yesterday hanging on my walls, like spiderwebs The wild intoxicated air has faded away My living room smells like ordinariness and spring now Trying to catch old feelings, like a fever What would I give to feel what I used to feel again We were not just stars, we were a galaxy The electric feeling, the heat, the rush My dilated eyes, my dehydrated body moving and moving And moving The shaking fingers, the thirst, the mass oh the overwhelming mass of feelings Feeling both excited and angry at the same time Feeling it all, ever so intensely Tasting love, hatred, rage and despair My body was a boiling *** of sensations It was raw and real It was us, the big city and the night sky It was us standing on the roof We didn’t care if we will fall We didn’t care if we will fly We dived into the dark black night so deep we forgot about the concept of time and space It was like ripping out the stars with our bare hands It was like swallowing an ocean Sometimes it was an attempt to drown Sometimes we let the waves carry us away Sometimes we became the waves Now it is only me, sitting here, alone, in my living room Trying to find purpose in zoom meetings, writing emails and harvesting my own chilies. Not sure whether the pills make me numb Or let me feel again Because it’s all the same to me The night sky is not black anymore, it’s grey There are no more oceans to drown in anymore I am wearing a life vest now These pills are different They don’t taste like life or energy They taste like defeat and surrender It was May when you passed over From this life onto another Dividing yours and mine into two seasons warm summer nights with you cold winter days alone Taking with you my ability to feel Taking with you my boldness Taking with you my appetite

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Mar 26, 2021

Mar 26, 2021 at 1:40 PM UTC

Past Life

Glimpses of memories from a past life Shadows of my yesterday hanging on my walls, like spiderwebs The wild intoxicated air has faded away My living room smells like ordinariness and spring now Trying to catch old feelings, like a fever What would I give to feel what I used to feel again We were not just stars, we were a galaxy The electric feeling, the heat, the rush My dilated eyes, my dehydrated body moving and moving And moving The shaking fingers, the thirst, the mass oh the overwhelming mass of feelings Feeling both excited and angry at the same time Feeling it all, ever so intensely Tasting love, hatred, rage and despair My body was a boiling *** of sensations It was raw and real It was us, the big city and the night sky It was us standing on the roof We didn’t care if we will fall We didn’t care if we will fly We dived into the dark black night so deep we forgot about the concept of time and space It was like ripping out the stars with our bare hands It was like swallowing an ocean Sometimes it was an attempt to drown Sometimes we let the waves carry us away Sometimes we became the waves Now it is only me, sitting here, alone, in my living room Trying to find purpose in zoom meetings, writing emails and harvesting my own chilies. Not sure whether the pills make me numb Or let me feel again Because it’s all the same to me The night sky is not black anymore, it’s grey There are no more oceans to drown in anymore I am wearing a life vest now These pills are different They don’t taste like life or energy They taste like defeat and surrender It was May when you passed over From this life onto another Dividing yours and mine into two seasons warm summer nights with you cold winter days alone Taking with you my ability to feel Taking with you my boldness Taking with you my appetite

45

When someone leaves, what remains? An “in memory of” on Facebook, a black-and-white profile picture, a last post with 360 likes, a music video 8 unread WhatsApp messages, 1 grey tick instead of 2 in a group chat Nocturnal analysing of your social media accounts, finding truth in between your Instagram captions Your last statement to the world, a peace emoji just above said music video The question if this is what peace looked like for you The question if it really was peaceful The question what crossed your mind, 1 millisecond before the world before your eyes turned into a black void forever The question when you thought about becoming a memory for the first time The question when you thought about becoming a memory for the last time The question where souls, if they exist, go when someone dies The question what state of aggregation souls have The question if you’re now air, soil or both A cold shiver when I find the ad for your room, published 4 weeks ago. You were always looking ahead. Your books and files meticulously arranged in one of the pictures, neat as a pin The question how it must have had looked inside of you. Was it the chaos or were you tired of cleaning up? Did you have windows, could you see outside? When someone knocked, did you open? When did you realize the light switch? When did you decide to turn the lights off? When someone leaves, what remains? An empty room Unread messages People reacting with that crying emoji on all your posts Memories Things you’ve left undone Anger, sympathy, maybe someday absolution Anguish, fright Thoughts about your family Good reasons, bad reasons Philosophy Compassion An obituary in the local newspaper An iPhone with no battery A voicemail leading directly into nothingness An as good as new e-piano, only 5 weeks old A rancid peace of butter in the back of your fridge Administrative workload An incomplete mission Questions without answers.

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Dec 18, 2020

Dec 18, 2020 at 3:47 PM UTC

What remains?

When someone leaves, what remains? An “in memory of” on Facebook, a black-and-white profile picture, a last post with 360 likes, a music video 8 unread WhatsApp messages, 1 grey tick instead of 2 in a group chat Nocturnal analysing of your social media accounts, finding truth in between your Instagram captions Your last statement to the world, a peace emoji just above said music video The question if this is what peace looked like for you The question if it really was peaceful The question what crossed your mind, 1 millisecond before the world before your eyes turned into a black void forever The question when you thought about becoming a memory for the first time The question when you thought about becoming a memory for the last time The question where souls, if they exist, go when someone dies The question what state of aggregation souls have The question if you’re now air, soil or both A cold shiver when I find the ad for your room, published 4 weeks ago. You were always looking ahead. Your books and files meticulously arranged in one of the pictures, neat as a pin The question how it must have had looked inside of you. Was it the chaos or were you tired of cleaning up? Did you have windows, could you see outside? When someone knocked, did you open? When did you realize the light switch? When did you decide to turn the lights off? When someone leaves, what remains? An empty room Unread messages People reacting with that crying emoji on all your posts Memories Things you’ve left undone Anger, sympathy, maybe someday absolution Anguish, fright Thoughts about your family Good reasons, bad reasons Philosophy Compassion An obituary in the local newspaper An iPhone with no battery A voicemail leading directly into nothingness An as good as new e-piano, only 5 weeks old A rancid peace of butter in the back of your fridge Administrative workload An incomplete mission Questions without answers.

36

sitting in my bathtub lights dimmed low in my hand a glass of wine what if the water is my undoing? it’s one of those days on which I cannot grasp the concept of a world without you it’s one of those days on which I realize that my life has been separated into two seasons - warm summer nights with you cold winter days alone. I put my head under water the wine glass still in my hand trying to hold my breath a little longer than my lungs allow imagining that I could become the water imagining I could pour my body on the floor And yet, my body wouldn't float so I pour the wine into the water instead it becomes red and I realize that wine under water will not float but dissolve.

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Nov 13, 2020

Nov 13, 2020 at 1:17 PM UTC

Red Water

sitting in my bathtub lights dimmed low in my hand a glass of wine what if the water is my undoing? it’s one of those days on which I cannot grasp the concept of a world without you it’s one of those days on which I realize that my life has been separated into two seasons - warm summer nights with you cold winter days alone. I put my head under water the wine glass still in my hand trying to hold my breath a little longer than my lungs allow imagining that I could become the water imagining I could pour my body on the floor And yet, my body wouldn't float so I pour the wine into the water instead it becomes red and I realize that wine under water will not float but dissolve.

26

I could say I am sorry, But I am not. Because on the one hand it is a choice, (But then again it isn’t.) It’ll take me 3 months and 22 days, a caloric deficit of 700, 7 hours of gymnastics a week, half an apple instead of one, skipping lunches three times a week, discipline, motivation and strength, but one day, I will be where I want to be. I have a goal, a very specific number, and as for now, it’s all just in my head, and –actually- I’ve never really liked numbers , in school I always hated maths, but - since I’ve started measuring every inch of happiness, since I keep my feelings locked up in measuring cups, I cannot imagine living without them anymore. It feels good to have a goal again. So, when I pinch my skin, and cry myself to sleep at night over a ******* when I hate myself for being myself, I could say that I am sorry, to me, to anyone. But the truth is, I am not. Not yet. I still have a goal to finish.

0

Nov 19, 2019

Nov 19, 2019 at 3:11 PM UTC

Sorry, not sorry

I could say I am sorry, But I am not. Because on the one hand it is a choice, (But then again it isn’t.) It’ll take me 3 months and 22 days, a caloric deficit of 700, 7 hours of gymnastics a week, half an apple instead of one, skipping lunches three times a week, discipline, motivation and strength, but one day, I will be where I want to be. I have a goal, a very specific number, and as for now, it’s all just in my head, and –actually- I’ve never really liked numbers , in school I always hated maths, but - since I’ve started measuring every inch of happiness, since I keep my feelings locked up in measuring cups, I cannot imagine living without them anymore. It feels good to have a goal again. So, when I pinch my skin, and cry myself to sleep at night over a ******* when I hate myself for being myself, I could say that I am sorry, to me, to anyone. But the truth is, I am not. Not yet. I still have a goal to finish.

27

I hate the sun today because I feel like she betrays me, Clearing the snow, making the birds sing, shining brightly into my bedroom While my body is raining tears like a waterfall and my chest feels heavy and grey How can such a bad day be so beautiful? I am angry at the weather because it’s been raining for weeks And now that you’re gone the air is dry and humid again I cannot grasp the irony of this. All I wanted for you was just another beautiful day to live No more dark clouds and ***** snow Just one more ray of sunshine touching your face through the window Just one more morning coffee on the balcony, mild spring temperatures and crocuses. One more of our Sunday strolls without an umbrella One more night with our summer bed sheets. I want to close the windows and bury myself under pillows I want the birds to shut up I want the weather to act appropriately I want you to be here again, because it’s such a beautiful day and I can’t take it alone.

0

Feb 13, 2019

Feb 13, 2019 at 7:44 AM UTC

It's supposed to clear up later

I hate the sun today because I feel like she betrays me, Clearing the snow, making the birds sing, shining brightly into my bedroom While my body is raining tears like a waterfall and my chest feels heavy and grey How can such a bad day be so beautiful? I am angry at the weather because it’s been raining for weeks And now that you’re gone the air is dry and humid again I cannot grasp the irony of this. All I wanted for you was just another beautiful day to live No more dark clouds and ***** snow Just one more ray of sunshine touching your face through the window Just one more morning coffee on the balcony, mild spring temperatures and crocuses. One more of our Sunday strolls without an umbrella One more night with our summer bed sheets. I want to close the windows and bury myself under pillows I want the birds to shut up I want the weather to act appropriately I want you to be here again, because it’s such a beautiful day and I can’t take it alone.

17

I licked you cautiously with precision Licked until your sharp edges were round and soft Indulged in that millisecond, I let my mind wander off to the imagination of licking and actually swallowing you Sweet imaginary drops of melted sticky sugary matter were dripping down my esophagus You were dancing in my throat like a delicate ballerina Tiptoeing, Floating. Then reality hit in again and my tongue drawed back like it just touched a hot range My esophagus felt clogged. Your pungent taste was burning holes into my throat- So I used my fingers like a plunger to **** you out again. I purged dark matter all over the white bathroom tiles Tried to extinguish salty burning tears with stomach acid You smelled sweet and savory at the same time. I’m sorry for drowning the rest of you in the toilet. But they say “nothing good ever lasts long enough” for a reason. You see, love is a battlefield and I’m Napoleon.

0

Aug 17, 2018

Aug 17, 2018 at 6:50 AM UTC

Love letter to a chocolate bar

I licked you cautiously with precision Licked until your sharp edges were round and soft Indulged in that millisecond, I let my mind wander off to the imagination of licking and actually swallowing you Sweet imaginary drops of melted sticky sugary matter were dripping down my esophagus You were dancing in my throat like a delicate ballerina Tiptoeing, Floating. Then reality hit in again and my tongue drawed back like it just touched a hot range My esophagus felt clogged. Your pungent taste was burning holes into my throat- So I used my fingers like a plunger to **** you out again. I purged dark matter all over the white bathroom tiles Tried to extinguish salty burning tears with stomach acid You smelled sweet and savory at the same time. I’m sorry for drowning the rest of you in the toilet. But they say “nothing good ever lasts long enough” for a reason. You see, love is a battlefield and I’m Napoleon.

15

It’s funny how seeing things from a different perspective can make such a difference When you look out of the window of a plane and you can see your tiny house And the city is no bigger than your thumb And cars on the highway look like ants running from point A to point B And people so tiny you can’t even see their faces But then, when you’re back on the ground You feel like a tiny insect yourself In a city so big it eats you alive In a house where the walls swallow you On streets surrounded by people whose faces you cannot escape On the subway when it turns from empty to crowded to empty to crowded again When you look up to the bright yellow ceiling and imagine sunlight When you get off at your station And everything looks the same Exactly like when you got on the train this morning And like yesterday, and the day before And how nothing will ever make this stairs look different No matter what angle you’re looking at them from Because when you’re on solid ground and not in the sky Putting things in perspective is so much harder

0

May 22, 2018

May 22, 2018 at 5:59 AM UTC

The world from above

It’s funny how seeing things from a different perspective can make such a difference When you look out of the window of a plane and you can see your tiny house And the city is no bigger than your thumb And cars on the highway look like ants running from point A to point B And people so tiny you can’t even see their faces But then, when you’re back on the ground You feel like a tiny insect yourself In a city so big it eats you alive In a house where the walls swallow you On streets surrounded by people whose faces you cannot escape On the subway when it turns from empty to crowded to empty to crowded again When you look up to the bright yellow ceiling and imagine sunlight When you get off at your station And everything looks the same Exactly like when you got on the train this morning And like yesterday, and the day before And how nothing will ever make this stairs look different No matter what angle you’re looking at them from Because when you’re on solid ground and not in the sky Putting things in perspective is so much harder

20

Your soft skin is pale and transparent A no longer beating heart is portruding as if it was so to say: let me finish this. There wasn’t a chance to finish, you left undone Your skin still so translucent and clear Your blue lips sealed as if they were to say: Please be gentle. You shot yourself in the chest so that your face will remain beautiful And yes – you’re beautiful as you’re lying there on a cold metal table Soon scissors and knives will rip open your abdomen and examine what you left behind Maybe your liver will tell them the stories of how we met at a bar and how you loved drinking too much wine Maybe your lungs will reveal that – sometimes, when you were mad at me – you smoked cigarettes Maybe your mouth will speak about that one time we kissed at the cinema for the whole film Maybe they will forcefully open your eyes to see if you’re still watching I hope that when they sew you up again, they’ll leave a tiny crack in your chest for your soul to leave Let it fly out the window and watch sunsets with me Yesterday I had someone clean your room The police came and took some things with them They took your suicide note with them, for the file they say You’re a file now They asked about the ****** blanket And I told them you wrapped yourself into it so that your ****** torso wont make a mess Which is kind of funny because the mess really just started when they took the blanket and left me there, alone, in an empty room.

0

Apr 30, 2018

Apr 30, 2018 at 4:25 PM UTC

Autopsy

Your soft skin is pale and transparent A no longer beating heart is portruding as if it was so to say: let me finish this. There wasn’t a chance to finish, you left undone Your skin still so translucent and clear Your blue lips sealed as if they were to say: Please be gentle. You shot yourself in the chest so that your face will remain beautiful And yes – you’re beautiful as you’re lying there on a cold metal table Soon scissors and knives will rip open your abdomen and examine what you left behind Maybe your liver will tell them the stories of how we met at a bar and how you loved drinking too much wine Maybe your lungs will reveal that – sometimes, when you were mad at me – you smoked cigarettes Maybe your mouth will speak about that one time we kissed at the cinema for the whole film Maybe they will forcefully open your eyes to see if you’re still watching I hope that when they sew you up again, they’ll leave a tiny crack in your chest for your soul to leave Let it fly out the window and watch sunsets with me Yesterday I had someone clean your room The police came and took some things with them They took your suicide note with them, for the file they say You’re a file now They asked about the ****** blanket And I told them you wrapped yourself into it so that your ****** torso wont make a mess Which is kind of funny because the mess really just started when they took the blanket and left me there, alone, in an empty room.

21

These days I am amazed How this tiny apartment Suddenly contains so much space Vast, like an ocean I am drowning in endless spheres I am thinking about how we didn’t even fit a couch into it How you threw away your old shoes How I buried mine under pillars of clothes in the cellar How the walls hugged us at night How our hopes and dreams tried to escape the window How we didn’t let them How we wanted to adopt a cat so badly How we were afraid the walls would swallow it But this morning I woke up, Sheets like a large blanket of snow A heavy silence weighing me down So much air but so little breath I barely saw the end of the room Just a dark tunnel where there is no light at the end or anything at all Just me and is ridiculously large space Suffocating me with its infinity I recovered your stuff from the cellar Hung your pictures on the wall again Even put up that ugly shelf you used to love But no matter how hard I tried to fill the room The floor just soaked in everything And there was only so much space

0

Feb 3, 2018

Feb 3, 2018 at 8:21 AM UTC

So much space

These days I am amazed How this tiny apartment Suddenly contains so much space Vast, like an ocean I am drowning in endless spheres I am thinking about how we didn’t even fit a couch into it How you threw away your old shoes How I buried mine under pillars of clothes in the cellar How the walls hugged us at night How our hopes and dreams tried to escape the window How we didn’t let them How we wanted to adopt a cat so badly How we were afraid the walls would swallow it But this morning I woke up, Sheets like a large blanket of snow A heavy silence weighing me down So much air but so little breath I barely saw the end of the room Just a dark tunnel where there is no light at the end or anything at all Just me and is ridiculously large space Suffocating me with its infinity I recovered your stuff from the cellar Hung your pictures on the wall again Even put up that ugly shelf you used to love But no matter how hard I tried to fill the room The floor just soaked in everything And there was only so much space

27

The hole in my heart is only as deep as the void it contains The void which is full of your absence and full of my emptiness I wish you could carry it for me just for one day Lift the weight off my shoulders And put it in your pockets Take out the emptiness And fill it with only air Breathe me in, absorb my grief, exhale the toxins Isn’t that how the body works? Pour out my tears I will donate a pool to you **** out my sorrows, I assure you, I can live without. Carry my heart and teach it a lesson in healing, That’s what you’ve promised anyway. Shape the edges, draw circles, switch on the light. And when you’re done I’ll willingly take back that heart And transplant it back into my chest voluntarily. But as for now I’m lacking space.

0

Nov 18, 2017

Nov 18, 2017 at 1:49 PM UTC

Full/Empty

The hole in my heart is only as deep as the void it contains The void which is full of your absence and full of my emptiness I wish you could carry it for me just for one day Lift the weight off my shoulders And put it in your pockets Take out the emptiness And fill it with only air Breathe me in, absorb my grief, exhale the toxins Isn’t that how the body works? Pour out my tears I will donate a pool to you **** out my sorrows, I assure you, I can live without. Carry my heart and teach it a lesson in healing, That’s what you’ve promised anyway. Shape the edges, draw circles, switch on the light. And when you’re done I’ll willingly take back that heart And transplant it back into my chest voluntarily. But as for now I’m lacking space.

19