To love and
to loose.
To need and
to greed.
Too much and you're left
too little and you bereft.
Apr 7, 2021
Apr 7, 2021 at 4:06 PM UTC
Über mein verlorenes Selbst.
Der tiefe Schmerz, das dieses 'Ich' für immer
in der Vergangenheit gefangen ist.
Denn die Zeit ist heimlich vergangen
und hat den Schlüssel mit sich genommen.
Aufnimmerwiedersehen.
Sadness
Over my lost self.
The deep pain
this 'Me' will forever be captivated
in the past.
As time has secretly passed
and with it,
it has taken the key.
Farewell.
Feb 9, 2021
Feb 9, 2021 at 7:24 AM UTC
How can I be healing and hurting at the same time?
Oct 29, 2020
Oct 29, 2020 at 10:09 AM UTC
There is only one box.
One space to fit in.
If you do not fit, you do not belong.
So I must fit. I must belong.
Where else would I go?
But it feels tight and ill-fitting.
Inhospitable.
No.
Why should I sacrafice my edges to fit into a space
I do not want to be in?
So I went.
To embrace my edges in a place where there is space.
Oct 29, 2020
Oct 29, 2020 at 9:59 AM UTC
I am scared of losing the people I love,
because they will find someone
better,
lighter,
happier,
easier,
less problematic,
less worrisome,
...
someone more present,
someone more pleasant.
I am scared of people forgetting me,
of people realizing they're better off without me,
and realizing that I am actually weighing them down.
I am scared of being left alone,
of being abandoned.
(Just like many have before)
I am scared of not being worthy of love and commitment.
I am scared of people realizing they have made a mistake by being friends with me and letting me in their lives.
I am scared of being alone and unloved.
Scared to death.
Jun 28, 2020
Jun 28, 2020 at 8:31 AM UTC
I ask myself:
"What is your ******* problem?!"
Until I achingly realize,
I do not have a problem.
I am the problem.
Jun 9, 2020
Jun 9, 2020 at 4:29 PM UTC
Too much. Stimuli.
The voices. The sounds. The smells. The people. The eyes. The looks. The energy. The words. The preaches. The beliefs. The calls. The gestures. The monologues. The appointments. The requirements. The social norms. The values. The money. The rules. The expectations. The phones. The computers. The letters. The texts. The tasks. The duties. The online world. The offline world. The news. The fake news. The media. The cars. The cyclists. The trains. The planes. The traffic. The food. The drinks. The wind. The sun. The cold. The heat. The rain. The worries. The hope. The plans. The memories. The images in my head. The voices in my head. The heart stings. The cramps. The aching. The shivering. The sweating. The pain. The passing. The change. The rhythm. The routine. The hate. The love. The lies. The truth. The spending. The pretending. With no ending.
Too many people. Too many things. Too many sounds. Too many visuals. Too many thoughts. Too many feelings. Too many notions.
Too many.
Too much.
To take.
No more.
Jun 7, 2020
Jun 7, 2020 at 4:53 AM UTC
Reaching from my bed,
disguised as safe space,
gradually releasing its poison.
Paralyzing my mind, body and soul
and inexorably imprisoning my whole.
Eventually dropping out of bed,
I continue my daily walk to the toilet.
A gnomish little space.
No windows,
no colours,
no sink,
no outside world.
Merely three walls and a squeaking door.
Isolation at its finest.
Progressing to the kitchen,
I find a room filled with triggers and false comfort,
followed by attacks of anxiety, loneliness and failure.
Eventually ceasing back
to my seemingly soothing safe space.
Yielding into reoccurring patterns
of soul ***********
Drowning in feelings of guilt and self-harm.
May 8, 2020
May 8, 2020 at 12:21 PM UTC