I bloom with you like a flower in the sun, but once you leave the
leaves will droop and I will wilt.
No amounts of water will save me, for no one can rebuilt
a dyeing flower, regardless of their power.
No care and no love will save me but yours, for your sun-rays
protect my fragile petals and warm me on these days.
My roots have grown deep into the ground, intertwined with yours, and now I am bound.

A sunflower will follow the sun, just like I will search for you in all my happy days,
in all our lovely memories.

I will turn into air to forever
surround you, to stay by your side.
I will turn into the rain, and leave
kisses on your skin, one drop at a time.
I will turn into the sun, to
warm you up on a cold day. And
I will turn into the moon to light up your dark nights.

November, November, November
I kept wondering why November was on my mind these past few days.
Was it the Autumn weather? Or the festive mood?
Thoughts kept wandering around, spinning inside my head, when I realized I missed November because of you.

November, November
When our friendship turned into something more.
When I could kiss your soft lips and
hold you tight.

November
The month we might not spend together again...
You haven't left yet, but I already miss you...

Here I am, once again,
trying to wash away my sins,
unable to get rid of the imprint on my soul

At 2am
I get a sudden urge to call you, to hear your voice.
Your absence let itself be known and I worry that I'm
missing you too much. When I don't want to even think about you.
Banishing you from my thoughts has done no
wonders. When you still show up in my dreams.

At 3am
I have lost to myself.
I have called you.
But the kind female voice has informed me that your number is no longer valid. And I don't know if I feel relieved that you are no longer there to rely on, or worried. For your number was my
prayer. That I would repeat to hush my worries away.

At 4am
I realize that your absence has left emptiness that I will never replace.
I have already tried with all the possible options, and everything failed. Over and over and over again. And yet I still crave you like a child, who knows no better, craves sweets that will cause more harm than good. But my health cant deteriorate much longer. I won't survive till sunrise.
Maybe I should give in and finally accept this
emptiness as a part of me.
Allow it to live within me.
Give into the fear of utter consumption and loneliness.

Will I ever find out if death is as peaceful as it sounds?

Scrolling through your feed
over and over
again. Until my eyes are too
tired to focus on your face. Until my
mind starts imagining you by my side. Until my
skin feels your lips on me. Again.

Is that all there is to life?

She dreads going to sleep,
for she knows, she will wake
up to see tomorrow.
She fills her stomach up with
Red Bull and Modanfinil,
praying that one of them
will keep her eyes from
closing shut. But she knows.
She knows that no matter
how much she tries to
stretch out this wretched day,
tomorrow will come.
And she will live on.
Because she was too afraid to make it stop.

Is that all there is to life?

If I summon you like a demon
will you stay the night?

They want you
thinking you are as easy as a piece of cake. Not realizing that you are as sour as a lime, as spicy as a chili pepper.
So you **** yourself before any of them can get to you first.

You play with yourself life Tchaikovsky played the piano, to feel a certain high. To feel anything that might make you
forget the pent-up anger that you have build up for years. Those stupid souls, they will never understand, they will never know.

They want you.
It's an addiction, it's an obsession.
You can't get away.

They want you.

Unlovable,
like a spider on your bedroom door that you
want to get rid off but are too afraid to ****.
Unnoticeable,
like the paperclip you misplaced and
completely forgot about.
Useless,
like dull scissors that don't cut.
Me.

At 22:00, I started drinking to ease the pain away, to
calm down, to let loose.
drink after drink after drink
Glasses are being refilled without my asking. A magic trick.
At 00:00, I can no longer stand but I still think straight, I
know I haven't reached my limit yet. There's
still a goal to reach, a purpose to serve. And I
drink I drink I drink
No longer knowing which glass is mine, I take a large gulp.
At 02:00, you are on my mind. Your face blurry, a man unknown to me.
Your faults are long forgotten. The ringing in my ear is replaced with your whisper, and
I want you I want you I want you

Is it a sin to remember you five years too late?
To think of your soft lips and rough hands?
To wish that you would come back?

The more I think, the more I realize that I don't mind sinning. I will make a deal with the devil, and sacrifice all I've got. I will bathe in blood under the full moon, and lay in a circle of crystals. I will do anything and everything.

Just please,
come back.

I don't want to be tied to you by this invisible rope,
existence of which you are unaware of. This
embarrassment is too much for me to handle. I don't
want to think of you the way one thinks of a lover. For there
is no love.

There never was.

If I could choose to be reborn as anything I wanted, I would
choose the sunset, in hopes that you would finally look at me.
Perhaps, I would choose the rain, with the intention of feeling your skin. Or else, I would choose the strongest ocean wave, so I could pull you deep down and keep you to myself

I will dance with you
when your energy surpasses that of the
sun, but won't that be easy for you?

I will sin more, because I know
I won't find you in heaven.
I will read more, to
feed my imagination of us together.
I will only whisper, so you are
forced to lean in and listen to my word.
I will become your sugar, your alcohol, your cigarettes, your drugs
I will become anything to make you stay...

My whole body is shaking.
No.
The whole house is. An earthquake?
Can't be.
Ah. Of course.
The rumbling is caused by a natural cause, my mom.
She is cursing us, telling us to **** ourselves. What should we do?
I think of ways to end it fast. Kitchen knife. Wrists.
She can't be serious, can she? She can't mean it, can she?

I wonder if all poets write about you.
A version of you
that I will never know
or never see
or never want to be with.
Endless poems filled with your thoughts and actions and feelings

I said I wouldn't, but I lied. I
Will open the window for you if you
Promise to visit me once more. I
Will let you enter and stay with me tonight, if you
Promise not to leave me again.
Not even if I ask.
Not even if I beg.

No matter how many men love me
In my mind, I'll always call them by your name.
For you were the blueprint, and they are just
******* versions.

Nothing will make me forget you,
No matter how hard I try,
No matter how long it takes.

Listening to the song that you called your favorite in 2016,
thinking about you,
wondering if maybe you are thinking about me too...

I remember watching you laugh,
Keeping close attention to the way your lips moved,
Noticing the gap between your teeth that you so desperately wanted to hide.

I remember wanting to kiss you.
To feel the warmth of you on my skin and have your
Radiating energy surround me, holding me in your embrace.

I don't think those thoughts anymore,
For I know that your body has long gone cold...

They say love is blind, but how can that be?

I see all the colors of your body and soul
crashing onto the canvas of my life
filling the pages with mixtures and combinations
that I would not dream of
I long for the red, orange, yellow,
for the green, blue, purple
I long for it all

They say love is blind, but that can't be
for love is you
and me

You expect me to tell you that I love you back but I'm tired of lying

How long until I can live my life outside my mind?

Reality is slipping away as I bury my face into a black mirror that I use to escape.
And how I wish I could escape...
Live without the fear of a bleak future, by painting my days with a rainbow of color. Yet, I am surrounded by walls built up by "loved" ones, who try to protect me but are simply limiting me.
It cannot go on like this.
I long for freedom.
I shall set myself
free

Your hand moving up my thigh,
Your lips on my neck,
Our bodies intertwined.

Things might have ended roughly, but every fortnight I think about you
Dreaming of what could have been
Wishing that we still had a choice, an option, a chance..

If I could do it all over again, I would.
I would cry and scream and fight, but in the end of it all I would have spent another year with you.
Kissing, Hugging, F.......
Making memories
with You

See the truth is, I love you.
But loving you causes too much pain, so I must learn to love myself instead.

I want to kiss the girl of my dreams
but every time our lips meet
I wake up








I would do anything to never wake up

One day, I will wake up with the dreadful realization that I have spent my youth following the rules of my strict, conservative, religious parents.
And despite my love for them, I will look back at my teenage years reliving one mistake. Dating a boy who used me.
I would have learned from that mistake. I would have grown form it.

But I will still look back, wondering why I haven't gone out as much. Why I stopped making friends. Why I never partied. Why I never did anything spontaneous. Why the night before dyeing my hair purple I decided to cancel my appointment so I could avoid facing the disapproval from my parents. Once again.

It is hard to be the child of a dyeing nation.
A nation that is glorified for pride and honor.
But where sexism and homophobia exists.

I will remain the brown haired girl that stays at home and studies on a Friday night. That spends her Saturdays reading books about the life she will never experience. Hoping that she dies before realizing that her life has been a waste.

Sparks of joy fill my eyes when I see you, and I get a sudden urge,
a want,
a need,
to pull you into my arms and never let you go.
To kiss you endlessly, to hold onto your body, to feel your warmth, to smell your perfume, to caress your skin, to play with your hair...
Oh, what I'd give to be with you...

I would like to let you go, but my mind is filled with thoughts of you. If I go a day without thinking of you, you appear in my dreams.

There is simply no escaping you.

You have full control over my life, and I proceed to live with you in
my memories, my hopes, my dreams.
Or perhaps they are nightmares? For I don't truly want to see you.

And so I ask, I beg, I pray
that You let me go instead.

Three years have passed, and yet I'm still trapped inside your big, loving, suffocating arms.
And I still can't decide if I want you to let go, or hold tighter.
Truth is, I can breathe all the same. I just don't know if the air satisfies me anymore.

Where is the line between life and death? And why can't we just cross it whenever we want?
Can a person be on the line? Both dead and alive? Or neither dead nor alive?
Why are we threatened with hell when we simply want the pain to end?

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you"
I repeat this mantra days on end to remind myself of the pain you caused, when I was young and lost and confused and naive.
Naive.
A silly girl in "love". Believing in the impossible, hoping for it to last forever.
Eternity is all we have but nothing in this world is eternal. So when I am lost, I turn to the illusion of freedom that I might one day achieve.

Your cursed this day

She said she saw you in that hotel
and now I quietly beg her to take me there
never wanting to miss the opportunity of accidentally seeing you myself.
we drive by the hotel often and I can see you with my eyes closed, sitting inside the lobby I have never been in,
imagining you eating in a restaurant that only exists in my mind.
perhaps,
thats it,
you are just in my mind

I'd like to think that I can speak to you with my mind. That our thoughts are interlinked, intertwined, like our DNA which can only be altered by a mutation. What is the mutation of our relationship?
Is it the force? Is it the fear? Is it the lack of trust?
Is it me?
Is it me?
Is it me?

In my dreams
I see you vividly, as you follow me around.
I see your puffy lips, your small blue eyes, you brown hair that I could swear was ***** blonde,
I see your bushy eye brows, your straight nose, your imperfect skin.
In my dreams, I see you.

As I open my eyes
You disappear without a trace, and although I know
Your features, and I know them well. I can't place them all together.
Your face becomes the face of a stranger.
As I open my eyes, you cease to exist.

Why do we struggle to accept our beauty?
Why is it so much easier to notice our own flaws?

No one knows my tears, my pain, my struggles, my thoughts like my Pillow

мне не нужны открытки с твоими поэмами,
и шоколад можешь оставить себе.
Я просто хочу читать книги и жить в тишине,
одной

Я не хочу умирать зная что ты ещё жива
ведь оставлять тебя одну в этом ужасном мире жестоко
я лучше сожгу его дотла чтобы мы смогли уйти отсюда вместе

They will never understand what it's like
to be ruled by the Moon, controlled by the Tides.
My devotion has never been stronger and I present myself to them,
Beg the spirit of the Moon and Ocean to take me away

У моей любимой,
энергия солнца,
красота Луны,
сила земли,
и страсть огня.
Она нежная как воздушные облака,
любить её опасно.
Но она всё держит меня за руку и тянет меня к реки,
там нас унесет течения в Параллельный мир где мы сможем жить.
Вместе.

People are afraid of death, of being surrounded by the never ending Darkness.
Left alone with no one to comfort you and nowhere to go.
I see it differently. I see wholeness.
Peace.
A chance to finally be free.

How can they judge me for loving you?
Keep calling it a sin, saying God doesn't love me...
How do they know? What makes them think that I am unworthy of Gods love?
If my love for you is unconditional, and God is omnipotent shouldn't Gods love be infinite like Gods power?
A God that does not love their followers is not a God I want to believe in
For Love should be praised For
Love is Love

его присутствие для меня было как снег
для слепого человека.
я осознавала его существование
но все равно чего то не хватало.
для меня это было теплоты и уважения
которого я даже в юности не получала от моей семьи.
но почему то я все ждала и надеялась почувствовать это
от чужого мне человека...