"scene 30 000, take 1"
"AND ACTION"

I imagined us dancing in the Park
right near
while I was looking outside the window
we called each other "dear"
I spun you around
your hand in mine
it was everything but fine
it was magic
not tragic
it was wonderful
not dreadful

your dress healed wounds
as it was spinning around
your eyes shone with youth
so happy I found

save
space

the moon passing by
the stars in the sky

we danced and danced
continuing on

"CUT"

"scene 30 001, take 1"
"AND ACTION"

passing the crosswalk
all in the dark

a car came

I screamed out your name

blood floods
a puddle of shame

death
I checked your breath

we didn't hear the car...

...but I did
silently
watching

eyes looking down
my brain with regret
for all what I said

"CUT CUT CUT"
"TRY TO LET THEM FEEEEEL THE PAIN"
"scene 30 001, take 2"

"ACTION"

little me stares at me
...she knows I'm spying
out of my window
here
her eyes are sad
she was everything she ever had
the body in her hands
a puddle of blood
saying I'm "no good"

my imagination is cruel
I say
it's warning me from hell
but my brain does not know
I want everything I tell

my brain continues on
"let's move on!"
"you don't even like dancing"
"stop crying
before it's called dying"

"CUT"
*sigh

First, I wanted to play.
Then, I wanted to make friends. Next, I wanted to cry.
Eventually, all I wanted
was for the loneliness to end.
I stayed alive for my family.
But it got harder every day. Because I didn't know how to say "I need help. I'm not okay."
Now, it's been years
since I've been in such a bad place.
But if you're reading this,
and you're wondering if you have anything left to give,
for what it's worth,
it's not too late
to decide you want to live.

Chronos
god van de tijd
die naar beneden kijkt
en ons gewoonweg uitlacht
als een hyena

ik staar naar de klok
ik doe een gok
nog 5 minuten
en dan moet ik me weer haasten
weer racen tegen de klok
tegen de oneindige onwennige cirkel
van tijd

de cyclus

die 5 minuten, die tikken voorbij
ik **** de klok nu luider
en luider
als gebrom in mijn hoofd

en dan
als ik denk dat alles ten einde is
dan zie ik een lichtflits
een gids die me weer leidt
naar de rust in mijn hoofd

en hier zit ik weer….

te staren en te klagen
in mijn oude versleten zetel
over al die eeuwen die voorbij vliegen
als wolken in de lucht

misschien neem ik best wat rust

What if I’m scared of everything,
And cry beneath the moonlit sky?
Some nights, I wish I wasn’t here
I feel too fragile for this life.

What if I break, and no one sees?
What if I fade without a trace?
Would anyone reach out to me,
Or just forget I had a place?

I’ve grown to dread the face I wear,
The thoughts that echo deep inside.
What if I lose myself for good,
And no one’s there to hear my quiet cry?

There’s something in me that I cannot name,
A quiet pulse beneath my ribs that huls the wrong note in every brat of my heart.

It moves with me,
Breathed with me,
A shadow switched into my skin that no light can touch,
No words can capture,
No one can see.

It whispers in mirrors,
Tugs at my reflection,
Makes familiar faces look foreign,
Makes my own hands feel like strangers.
I cannot show it,
Cannot speak it,
Cannot explain why the world sometimes feels heavy,
Why laughter tastes hollow,
Why silence cuts deeper than noice.

And still I carry it.
Still,
I walk,
Still,
I smile,
Still,
I try to be whole with a shadow that refuses to leave.

Perhaps one day,
I’ll learn its name,
Or perhaps I’ll walk
My whole life
With a companion
I never chose,
Never wanted,
But cannot escape.

They tell us ghosts are restless,
drifting through shadows,
trapped between worlds
but what if they are guardians,
lingering not out of torment,
but love?

What if the creak in the hallway isn’t to scare you,
but to remind you youre not alone?
What if the chill in your skin is their hand pressing gently,
a shield you cannot see?

They wander, but not lost.
They wander to follow us,
to stand where we cannot look,
to fight battles we never knew brushed so close to our lives.

And maybe that’s why we dream of them because while we sleep,
they’re still awake,
keeping the night from breking us.

Ghosts are not always grief.
Sometimes,
they are love
that refused to leave