When the real me isn’t good enough.
It *****.
When I’m honest, I hurt.
When I’m open, people hate me.
When I lose control for one second, people take distance from me.
Loose hope in me, don’t hire me, make dreams beyond me.
Being truly myself is always a huge risk for me
And hurting people is the last thing I want.
A slip is so easily made
In the most important and most intimate moments
It breaks the existing and the possible
The sad thing is, the moments in which I feel good,
When I’m happy, energetic, loved,
Then when I’m most myself,
Those are the moments I mess up.
So what now?
Is there no happiness, freedom and love for me?
Because it creates danger zones for myself and for others?
I don’t know man, I don’t know.
**** like this always happens at a peak,
A peak of love, happiness, freedom,
I think I’m finally there,
The space of being my energetic self,
And then I knock myself down,
Or someone else does it for me.
To the place of not being myself,
To the restricted, humble, polite, considerate form
Of myself
Which I have learned to create over the years.
I am in a sad situation.
I try so hard, so hard, to have the two,
The happiness, freedom and love without hurting others,
But on days like this, my hope tumbles down again,
To the pitch black reality,
Of me.

I come from a meeting,
still stressed,
plannings and deadlines,
in my head.

Staring at the onions,
which look like they bake,
ten times slower,
as usual.

You come in,
with your big smile,
touchy hands,
and a mouth ready to kiss.

While turning the onions,
you come behind me,
try to hug my stressed body,
and fill it with joy.

And then,
the defrosting process begins,
bit by bit,
you patiently wait.

You patiently wait,
without comments,
without complains,
till I am unfrozen again.

Back on the countryside,
Just for a day,
Seeing far,
Real darkness,
without street lights,
blurring the stars away.
Less people,
more animals,
feeling the wind,
grass underneath my shoes,
It feels more like home,
than the city,
I've been staying in,
for the last months.
The feeling of home,
I still can't distinguish,
What it is exactly,
But it makes me feel happy.
I would be even more happy,
If you, my love,
would be there,
Just your presence,
gives a warm golden edge,
To everything I do,
Everything I experience.
Being happy,
in a happy place,
with you.
That's what I want

I'm one of these girls,
who will always stay,
100 miles away,
from the perfect woman and human.

Genes gave me short and thick legs,
instead of the long branches like Giselle Bundchen.
Blue eyes, but not the sparkly,
light ones, bursting from pictures.
Hair, which is always messy,
grows uneven and is the ultimate safety net,
for bees and flies.
A face that is so round,
that even my 6 years old cousin,
notices it and jokes about it.
A brain which forgets,
so much stuff,
names, numbers, groceries,
lyrics, everything.
With maybe some talents in it,
but not the ones sought for,
by society and recruitment agencies.
A characteristic, to stress so easily,
that even seeing an ugly picture of myself,
raises my stress levels,
4 hours long with 80 percent.
An urge for expression,
which is often interpreted by others,
as rude, too direct and offensive,
although not mend in that way.

Couldn't you have done a better job,
evolution, god, causality,
or anyone or anything else?
I'm kinda tired of reaching stuff,
which I can never reach,
but see other people have.

But well,
there is a bright side,
to this story.
Because people,
me included,
can decide,
for themselves,
what they want to reach.
And also because I often,
had to reach very far,
I've learned to work hard,
in many ways.
Harder than people for which,
some things,
they only needed to lift their hand.
It made me creative,
original, made me able,
to learn and accept.
I don't win over guests in a restaurant,
by my speed, glossy smile or waving hips.
I open my heart, try to feel what they want,
make them feel special, heard and understood.
Smiling, not with a perfect Barbie smile,
but with happiness and radiation.

I've learned all kinds of tricks and habits,
to remember facts, names and appointments.
I've adapted a lifestyle in which,
I feel comfortable.
I have found ways to express beauty,
in my own way,
far from those unreachable standards,
often projected by different sources.

But most of all,
I've learned to created, build, construct,
accept, love and develop.
I've noticed and have been made aware,
of so many flaws.
But knowing them, is the first step,
in overcoming them,
with a talent.
Only by exploring, falling and failing,
those talents unravel and grow.

I'm one of these girls

The sky turns red, blue and yellow,
I take in the beautiful horizon.
Feeling a bit lost and mellow,
Here in the village I am from.

The black contour of the church,
Contrasts sharply with the colourful sky.
On the edge where darkness emerges,
Where clouds become invisible and just fly.

Knowing being here temporarily,
Makes this place even more beautiful.
Living abroad does something to the mind apparently,
Which makes your perceptions of locations less dull.

A couple more days,
Of this place,
This phase,
This praise.
I love it.

Streets with people
Shops with clothes
Stress of being on time
Safety signs everywhere
Salad eating women
Sales men walking in suits
Sandwiches to go in plastic
Schools filled with children

Simply a city
Yet again