i'll never forget how his radiant blue eyes
concealed such a vast, continuously expanding universe
and how his notorious laugh echoed like a toneless thunder
through my quietly admiring, sunken gaze.

the messy handwriting adorning his caffeine-kissed lips,
lovely tainting the fancy words on his fiery tongue,
as mesmerizing as the last remnants of a lunar eclipse
i was swept away easily, utterly stupid, naive and also young.

i would have loved to be absorbed by his crazy tellings,
deeply hidden underneath that soft, brownish locks of his,
containing the tempting sweetness of honey drops, indwelling
as an uncharted, seldom kind of bliss.

© fey (11/09/20)

they never told me that
happiness would be hidden
in a teeny-tiny rounded tablet
witch a notch to divide and reduce
30 mg to 15 like
it's some humorless joke in which
only the cynical people would get
the punchline from and laugh.

i never thought that my smile would be a result of
a molecule structure, synthesized and
ready to be sold for 5 euros but only if
you live in a country with a non-profit health insurance.

i also would never have guessed it to be
such a creepy tongue-twisting name.
i'm tripping on my words like
amitriptyline trips on my jittery nerves.

what's the point of being myself when being myself means
being miserable?

© fey (04/09/20)

the sad frog in my wallpaper
watches me suspiciously;
narrow eyes full of decay,
nostrils small and insignificant.
we are having an ambitious staring contest
each with their own emptiness.

© fey (01/09/20)

with featherlike movements
he undresses me
not with his trembling fingers but
more with the whispered words lingering on my skin

"I'm afraid of loving you."

the way his gaze travels across my body
reminds me of what Helène told me
people loving each other with eyes closed
and lips ready to explore elegantly

i said that i am always a little sad
maybe he was too.

© fey (30/08/20)

she inhaled happiness like a dunhill cigarette,
smoke lingering on her cherry-red lips,
eyes vibrant of her last lover's kiss.

but she could not fathom mundane affects
of short-tempered love, masked as the ordinary desire of men.

no one asked from where her dull smile and the fine, white lines on her arms originated from,
nor did anyone cared enough about the numerous bruises,
ironically aligned like
a blossoming sunset between her thighs.

she was just the briefly glowing ember
in one's snow cold and harsh december.

© fey (23/08/20)

tend me like a succulent plant
let me get accustomed to
a place with more than just
an ephimeral hint
of a sunny view.

© fey (18/08/20)

i once made you a necklace with starlight in its core,
but its shine has died a long time ago,
before it even had the chance to be worn.

© fey (17/08/20)

I fear the moment the car key triggers the radio music to stop
   whenever it is pulled out of its ignition lock
and the moment the other one opens  the door to an echoless house with
   silence creeping out loud.

I thought that restless bees resided among the unoccupied spaces in our garden
   but it seems like they have chosen my hollow mind
   to settle in for another honey bargain.

With delicate movements and diligent striving
   they sweeten my flavorless anxietea
and reduce what's left of my juvenile entity.

© fey (27/07/20), (14/08/20)

Drinking poison to thaw the frozen
numbness suffocating the beating hollow
in my chest

sometimes only a few, more often enough to
paralyze my field of view

one liter of cider and three songs of lana del rey
in the dying sunlight the birds feel comfortable
and i
i just want to have fun
for once in my life.

in the starless sea i found my supernova
enveloping me in a warm haze of light
forever and ever and ever and over
happy.

no one understandy me anyway.

© fey (06/08/2020)

her eyes stay out of line
from the suffocating staccato of life
But what about your eyes?
They absorb the sharp edges
of the self-indulgent human kind.
Tell me about the stories of love,
maybe I will get to know it in
the deep dark corner right above
my blurry, dust-ridden forehead,
no one seems to care about enough.
So then, lay me to sleep,
let us wait for eternal slumber,
as we dive head-deep,
becoming incredibly number.

© fey (25/06/20)

her eyes were empty, the once sparkling iris forgotten already,
abyss-like mind filled with decay, shadow-tinted mood unsteady
“I don’t feel my body”, she whispered
limbs moving rapidly like snowflakes in a blizzard, hazy
when she imagined the edge, it was smooth and gentle
no sharpness, no pain intended
but instead of dancing with the knife she rather
watched its stillness with calm and collected anger
why was the metal shining so endearingly
when in reality it hold so much potential
to end her already

© fey (09/06/20)

i can't feel the paper anymore.

the gentle white hue slipping through delicate fingers,
words crumbling, unwritten.

i want to grasp the remaining ideas, before the malnourished muse decides to leave for good.

like the rest of them.

© fey (01/04/20)

i want to dance nonchalantly in a dust-ridden library
to all the cheesy ol' love songs from 1953,
with someone just as lost in the world's rapid haze as me

in the lazy afternoon sunlight of early spring
we could smile at the clouds messy formations in pink
ask ourselves if nature was really meant to be so god-**** pretty
while staring at each other with unspoken mutuality

sometimes i wonder
whether a person like that will ever come across me
or if this will stay a hopeless romantic's daydream forever

we'll see.

© fey (26/03/20)

your sounds are no longer consistent
the breeze gently brushes the memory that was once your voice
the echo being trapped in the split glass forever and
sometimes I wonder
whether glue would be enough to make the symphony play again
but that's a thought I'm not quite fond of

© fey (24/03/20)

is it boredom or depression
when a void - the size of three universes colliding alltogether-
settles down in my brain?
is it a lack of motivation or
a serious serotonin oppression?
am i shallow or am i unsure
of what to do next?

is it the serious will to die
or to just cease of existence?

What is it really?
And
What am I actually?

© fey (23/03/20)

I like how the beige curtains gently sway in the wind like
a dancing veil has decided to become a professional prima ballerina.

I like the way the sun traces its invisible fingers on the thin surface of fabric, as if every non-existent thing is a special kind of love, no one seems to get, except her.

© fey (20/03/20)

my soul craves the intimacy
the earth shares between the sky and the horizon
with innocent, raw
and gracious beauty

© fey (17/03/20)

this tide won't carry you along
take a deep breath, i promise
the force within you is strong
there are no boundaries upon us

let the wave pass gently,
i know the sorrow is tempting,
but out there are people
appreciating your whole existence immensely,

your story is yet to tell,
let time speak for its ending

and not your pain.

© fey (10/03/20)

getting drunk alone
is something i never thought i would experience

gettting drunk in general
is something i would never do on purpose

but today i felt so alone that i
almost naturally gulped one beer after another

and the warmth that spread inside of me
was like a welcome embrace out of the dark

i couldn't get rid of.

© fey (09/03/20)

sometimes
i expect people to be mind readers
because isolating myself inquires
friends to notice my absent features.

right?
well. not really.

is it too much to ask
if i am okay or even ALIVE?
sometimes people tend to hide behind
their shallow social media disguise

and i am sick of it.

morever,
i am sick of feeling redundant
unloved and absolutely angry about
experiencing an inner abundance.

that mental illness is giving me a hard time
because lacking of serotonin means
to struggle daily with a weird kind of paradigm

meaning that
despite people telling me that they do love and care,
i will never believe them because
from the very moment they share
that same feeling with someone else
i want to get a nom de guerre
and quickly travel to god knows where.

© fey (08/03/20)

words from long ago, unspoken on my tongue,
merging to silence on my wary taste buds,
vaporizing the breath i fiercely held in my lungs

i see myself unable to still remember them.

© fey (04/03/20)

sometimes
i just wanna rip the whole world apart
and never put it back together again

© fey (01/03/20)

reading romance novels is my closest experience to love
i bought myself some flowers due to the reasons I mentioned above
my bangs cover the darkness behind my forehead
sometimes everything coherent slips through my melancholical mindset

© fey (09/09/19)

there were once two friends,
while the one lacked of love
the other felt it too deep
so it burned him out
and he was incomplete.

two sides of a coin and yet
two kindred spirits indeed
the one holding too tight
the other fading in light speed
to a place of constant night
she could not visit.

Despite their differences, both were lost in the slumber of the unknown
she was too eager too find something, uncertain that she was outgrown
of the feeling, she eternally longed

he, on the contrary, wanted those feelings to vanish,
the once tender and gentle touch
had left him famished
there was not a single thing sating his everlasting hunger,
so he wandered aimlessly,
attacking and devouring anything that
soothed the wild and angry hunter.

there were once two friends,
both were tricked by love,
in similiar
and different ways.

© fey (28/02/20)

maybe it's the winter's tiptoeing snowfall,
the endless white on the monotone rooftops,
the silence of my room is louder than any hysterical scream,
i think i heard a breath leave my hollow chest
and elimenating my inner child's glowing sunbeam.

if i'd see a color pass my peripheral view,
just a tiny speck of a sunset's lilac hue,
i think my shattered heart would dance
and pretend to experience a solemn romance.

why does the winter always feel like
a suffocating grip around the throat of
those, dreaming and disappearing

of everyone's initial thoughts?

© fey (27/02/20)

forget about the plans you made,
the pit in your brain cracked open
once again,
and gone are all the mental band-aids
you enveloped your weary heart with
so much strain.

Instead,
prepare yourself for the darkness of your room,
resembling your inner turmoil,
Netflix binge-watching while hording snacks like a hungry racoon.

It's called depression.
and it won't let you off the hook
ever again.

© fey (25/02/20)

is it a tender embrace
or more like a blazing storm?
The feeling everyone craves,
including myself,
called "love".

in many stories and myths it seems
to be the one and only impression
one would describe as a pleasent dream,
so fierce and full of undisclosed passion.

but I am certain, quiet eager even
that I won't gather any experience
because "love" these days means treason,
lust, greed and above all

self-indulgent obedience.

I would rather idealize it forever,
to remain an ignorant and loveless bystander.

© fey (24/02/20)

today my heart is aching,
ugly beats resonating from its chest.
friends are all fcking traitors,
masquerading empathy with ignorance.

take your stpid advice somewhere else,
I respect my shattered pride way too much
to care about your so-called "distress".

Where have you been
all the time
in
MY
mess?

© fey (23/02/20)

And he asked her,
auburn eyes filled with awe,
hands stretched to the above
like a freshly blossomed branch in summer,
thoughts lost in innocent slumber:

"Is there anything more beautiful than the sky?"

She smiled and shook her head sheepishly,
assuming the contrary that,
indeed, there was something more beautiful than the sky.

But hed didn't need to know that yet.

© fey (5 weeks ago)

There is a longing in my heart.
I want a piece of the setting sun,
in my broken ribcage to be a part
of and let my thoughtful worries run.

Away.
Away.
Far away.

© fey (7 weeks ago)

as fleeting as a coelacanth
and made of tender amaranth,
in jaded hues of pale rosé,
the day's frail beauty soon decays.

to capture the grace of flaming dusk,
one has to peel dawn's unyielding husk.
a barely visible wonderland,
never to stay but never to end.

© fey (31/12/19)

eyes in the color of outer space,
the milky way lost its enchanting glow,
whenever you lifted your reticent gaze.

apropos

you are a solid caldwell 39,
six-thousand-five-hundred-twenty light years away,
probably the "acid to my alcaline",
even the matrix to my data storing array.

I am quiet. I am calm. I am out of control.
maybe even slightly delirious.
my rationality got ****** into a black hole.

my heartless state in a temper tantrum; furious.

you are in outer space,
close to my everlasting hope.

If we won't meet face to face,
I will continue watching you through my telescope.

© fey (28/12/29)

The way you're sleeping with no worry in your head,
while I'm crying and weeping endlessly in my bed,
makes me wonder ever so slightly
"What the hell is going on in my psyche?"
You, a wonderful and humble creature,
I'm begging you to be my teacher.
I'm holding on to this heavy burden,
while you willingly embrace the uncertain.
As i am gently stroking that fur of yours,
the turmoil in my head is ending its wars.
And though I am aware that you're in no need of affection,
your glistening gaze is still seeking for my attention.
I'll ask myself "Are you lonely too?",
but your eyes wander to somewhere else anew.
I f*cking envy you.
But something deep inside me tells me
that as soon as I'll leave your side mercilessly
you will look after me sadly
and feel pity towards me

really, really badly.

and finally,
maybe

understand me?

© fey (21/12/19)

sharks are passing through my brain,
for a second I thought they were beautiful.
but as I looked up again,
they were consuming my happiness away.

© fey (27/11/19)

you should see me now,
dancing alone in my room,
moves as sharp as a violin bow,
a young lunatic in its full bloom.

with my fleeting interests
comics on my lap and jazz
gently displaying my awkwardness.

daredevil, deadpool and spidermann,
my only friends, well and also shazam.
okay, jokes aside, it fitted the rhyme,
dc is actually not really my choice of style.

except batman.
he is as cool as ... maybe japan?
definitely not as cool as japan.
[really not.]

© fey (25/09/19)

one might say 'it was a good day',
had some eye contact with ernest hemingway
[only his books of course, not his face],
also a large amount of caffeine,
while listening to the beatles 'yellow submarine'.

a teaspoon of long forsaken melancholy,
longing for joy and mischievous folly.
and all that remained
in my sorrowful mind to contemplate
were two cloud-shaped coffee stains.

one was bright, the other frail.
two might say 'it could be a fairy tale'.

only

that it was not.

© fey (23/09/19)

as charming as they might be,
the spirits of those with no remorse,
i was only endebted to the eternity,
in the ember of your eyes infinite beauty.

[german]

so charmant sie auch sein mögen,
die geister derer ohne reue,
ich war nur der Ewigkeit verpflichtet,
in der Glut deiner Augen unendlich Schönheit.

© fey (20/09/19)

my coffee filter mind
consists of bitterness.
I let everything in
especially nothingness.
Something, I would like to keep
always flows through
these paper thin walls,
which only made me blue.

I wish to be loved,
I wish to be friends with,
I wish to exist

if only for oblivious bliss.

I ADMIT IT.

Instead, I hide myself
in a metaphorical beverage machine,
that enchants the taste buds of
every sleep-deprived lover of caffeine.

I secretely long
for those things I despise
because I'm so f*cking scared

of ripping my paper thin disguise.

My coffee filter mind
more or less cries.
Because it's not comfortable being around
others of her kind.

I want someone  to tear open my heart,
not to invade but rather comfort

my obnoxious coffee filter part.

© fey (16/07/17)

(I)

I once had friends,
gathered like pearls on a string.
I kept them with me,
as a bird would
with its pretty wings.
But once they outgrew me,
they all fell apart
and along with them
my fragile heart.

(II)

I heard a nasty sound,
with shaky hands I searched
their presence on the ground.
But they were gone,
already rearranged.
So all I had
was a tattered ribcage.
Frozen in time,
lost in space
a heart with no beat,
just a shallow haze.

(III)

I made friends with words
instead.
Once they were written,
they would all stay in place.
The letters on paper
toneless, they said:
"you are my creator",
to which I replied
"with pleasure.
as long as you are not a traitor."

© fey (16/07/17)