Usually I’d start by thinking of a line or phrase and go from there, talk about a phase trapped in a mind of mine,  in a maze. I'm telling the story of my life because it's always been the same. That's why in this case it's different.

I tell myself, but never hear me.  Which one of us, I or me, I am is even to myself a mystery, hits like thunder, left in agony not choosing one or another yet always ending - misery.

It's clear to me but I don't seem to see what I'm supposed to be.
Don’t you see? See what's wrong with me or how I be, to the world I'm just me.

caught myself between identities. I look at me, say he’s full of lies, lacking similarities tied to family expectancies while grasping at more western tendencies.

I keep coming up with metaphors to endorse what my heart sealed off behind lost doors. But at the same time something makes me think my doors need be opened, forgetting it was ever called “lost”.

It's time I take a step back and let me move onward. I’ll search all the doors I never spoke about. This now is me, a ruin of myself, writing in a language I never said out loud.

Tides drifting swiftly,
leaves falling consequently,
rain maketh heavy.

It slips in softly,
slightly weighs down the floor,
something almost mine,
sweeping me off my feet.

But first the mirror speaks,
humming through the breeze:
“you´ve left before”.
Yet you’re still here.

New person, same old me.

I met you once, -  like stars in flight,
your spark that turned - my dark to light.
Your laughter, soft, - a gentle breeze,
whispered promises - of endless ease.

But somewhere in - the pages turned,
The warmth we shared - began to burn.
The spark we had, - it dimmed, it waned,
And in its wake, - I turned insane.

You walked away, - your heart untied,
As if the thing - we shared had died.
I held on tight - to what we were,
gone - before I could be sure .

Now here I stand, - with shadows cast,
Things that could’ve - but didn’t last.
I’ll cherish you, - though you’re not mine,
A passing phase, - a distant time.

The truth, though bitter, - cuts so deep,
no promises - we didn’t keep.
Yet in the silence, - I still know,
You were a gift, - a dying glow.

Goodbye, my dear, - I set you free,
your ghost still lingers - inside me.
Though you may go, - and I remain,
My love’s a ghost - I can't reframe.

Sins on my shoulders, I didn’t commit.
Hypocrisy in my words, I must admit.
I couldn’t hear it, you left in quiet.
Will you come back tomorrow?
I don’t think so.

Love is my grief.
Does she see?

Maybe my rights were wrong after all.
I questioned your love and affection, It wasn’t stable.
Your paths were closed.
So I didn’t force it much more.

I killed my flower.
Couldn’t keep it alive anymore.

A moment not long ago life was perfect,
meaning, you were permanent.
Feeling like the world and what might control it had done justice.
Making everything less important,
being just us.

Once quite a while ago life was about living.
Living life longing for no more than needed.
Its memories, fogged by what grew from underneath it.

Between this chaos a whisper calls.
This voice, telling me it wishes time stalls.
To find within this pandemonium, a moment about me.
A moment, for once, to seek some clarity.

Lost in a playlist put on shuffle.
My life, not rough, but kinda dull
My longing for peace, my need to heal,
it's now I start to feel.

I need a moment.
Just one.
one for me.
for once.

I'm supposed to be over you,
But you’re still everywhere.
My feelings talking through an opposed view,
shunned by someone for whom I care.

feeling the warmth combined with the smell of mint in the air,
reading into our past but you're not there.
Message upon message, trying to find the reason behind,
behind leaving me with just your echoes.

Echoes roaming through my mind.
Keeping me chained, unable to progress.
Until I say what everyone knows.
You're gone, I must confess.