Streaks of sunlight make your eyes ever so blue,
Like oceans lit by morning’s grace.
I wish I had eyes like that—
Eyes that can capture,
And never let them drift laway.
They hold me still,
Right where you want me.

I’m falling—
Uncertain, unconscious,
No map, no anchor,
No promise that the chute will open.
But still, I fall.
I fall for you.
And somehow, that fall feels like flying.

Help me find solace in the storm.
Be the calm when the thunder grows close.
Shelter me when the rain won’t stop—
When skies crack open and shadows swell.
Just stare out with me into the grey,
And hold me like you'll never let me go.

If I break, let it be in your arms.
If I fade, let me fade beside you.
And if I soar—
Let it be because you believed I could.

I sit for hours.
My coffee cools into silence.
Eyes heavy.
Stomach knots.

I ache for comfort—
Can you give it?
You were the best thing to happen to me.
So why must I ruin it?

Speak to me in riddles.
Keep me guessing.
Make me wait.
Make me beg.
I am truly yours—
And you don’t even know.

"Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same."
I whispered Brontë like a secret.
Maybe hoping you'd hear it
In the space between my words.

You are too good
Too pure
I get lost in the worry of not being good for you
Don't let me pollute you.

You smile at me
Like the sun caught in a window.
I try not to stare too long.
I try not to hope too hard.
The fear of getting lost hangs in the air.

Every look you give me
Feels like a maybe.
Every silence
Feels like a no.

I love the waiting—
The little moments,
The crumbs of you
That I gather like gold.

But it hurts.
Not knowing.
Balancing between “maybe he does”
And “maybe he never will.”

Still, I stay.
Eyes heavy.
Coffee cold.
Heart full,
And aching.

You're pretentious.
You keep a Che Guevara poster in your room
and colour-coordinate everything.
Your room is like a vomiting rainbow.

I hate rainbows—
their brightness, and what they stand for.
Hope and happiness
are almost as pretentious as you.

I’ve moved on.
I don’t think about what your shampoo smelled like,
Or what your opinions on my actions would be.
I’ll forget about you.
I will.

We were always so different—it wouldn’t have worked.
But when you said you liked me, I believed you.
My deep emotions scared you off...
Could you not handle them?
Handle me?

You said I was intense—
Like that was a bad thing.
Like feeling deeply
was some kind of flaw,
instead of proof
that I actually cared.

Ahh, to care,
what a horrible thing to be fought up in.
Wouldn't life be so much easier if it all bounced off my shoulder?
If I could look at you and not get that terrible knot in my stomach,
always longing for you to come back into my life.

You made me feel
like too much and not enough
at the same time.
And now—
I second-guess every action I take,
every emotion I show.

I still replay it sometimes—
The look in your eyes when it was just us two,
How you could never hold my eye,
The way your fingers traced my hair...


But I’m learning to let go.
Not all memories are meant to be lived in.
And loving you
doesn’t mean I have to stay hurt.

Nature's power runs raw,
Heat and sweat saturates the skin,
Heart heaves, muscles cramp,
A rapid beat fills my ears, drowning out the world.
Dust and sand swirl,
Cracks and snaps scream through the air.
Trees crash, falling left and right-
A storm rages in the Outback.
Push further and further,
Help me, just help me escape.
The wind howls like a hungry beast,
Tearing at my skin, threatening to swallow me whole.
I am no more than a whisper in its fury.
The ground trembles under my feet,
Shifting as though the world itself is alive,
Swallowing everything in its path,
I am but a droplet, lost in its jaws.
It doesn't care.
It moves, crushes, it devours,
I've been caught up in its endless rage.
A leaf lost in a violent flood.

Drown me.
Tie a weight to my ankle—
make me claw for breath,
for I am always gasping.

I drown in my thoughts,
in my room,
in the silence that screams back.
Frustration gnaws at the edges of me.

Give me a fairy princess
with three wishes.
I’d wish for contentment,
for solitude,
maybe love.

Love—
what a strange concept.
To seek it is to spiral
through glass walls
and unanswered texts,
through the echo of being too much,
or not enough.

I want to be loved.
Is that so hard?
Is it possible?
Am I that difficult?

Possibilities and difficulties
are the seams of my skin.
An easy life?
How dull.
How dreadfully monotone.
I crave the spiral,
the chaos,
the nightly existential cross-examinations.

Perhaps I’ll find happiness.
Perhaps I won’t.

Drag me under.
Let me gasp for breath.

For I wish to be your pawn
in your well-worn game of chess—
a match you’ve played countless times,
where you already know the ending.
Checkmate me.

Play me.

Where are you from?
What a question...

My mind is from a place of quiet consolation,
My heart is missing.
I am forever searching for a place of belonging...
A place that perhaps might one day feel like home.

Where are you from?
If only I knew.

Memories of sunshine and joy are so far out of reach,
and coldness and ice surround me, not letting me see.
Ich will hier raus, hole mich hier endlich raus!

Ich komme aus einem Land voller Freude und Liebe,
Lande aber in der Trauer meines Kopfes.
Why is it so difficult for me to let go, to move on?
Perhaps one day, I will be able to.

Where are you from?
I do not know, but maybe I will one day...

Seeking the warmth of Love and Happiness,
I yearn for familiarity and family.
Pain and longing—I am familiar with.
Family... not so much.

Where are you from?
From sleepless nights and silent screams,
From questions left unanswered,
From a mirror that does not reflect the soul it holds.
Ich bin nicht von hier,
Doch wo ist hier, wenn alles fremd bleibt?

I build homes in dreams,
but wake up in rubble.
Still, a flicker of hope stays lit—
a whisper that somewhere, I will find my place.

Please help me find my place...

One day I might answer,
not with silence or a sigh,
but with a smile that says:
"I come from within—
from everything I've survived,
and all that I am becoming."

Building up ever so much,
not waiting for me to come back.
Home, what even does that mean?
I have nowhere that feels like home.

I look at you staring out the window
observing the sunset
taking in all the streaks of yellow, orange, and pink.
You never liked pink as a kid
I suppose we've moved past childish preferences.

Step into my life—
Rip me away with you,
Into bits you shape,
Until I’m wholly yours..

Make me wholly yours so that I won't live without you
As you'll forever be a part of me.

The poetic mind is forever troubled with questions but no answers,
Perhaps that's what draws us together
The constant unfulfillment with life as it is.

Are you looking, or just seeing
through mirrors, through windows?
Are you able to see through it all
Or are you too stuck in your head—

like me,
tracing outlines of thoughts
I’ll never say aloud.
Maybe silence is safer
than risking a world
that doesn’t echo back.

If I whispered my truth into the dusk,
Would you turn your head and listen tentatively
or shut me out like the wind.

Listen, world—
I have a voice that can shake you.
Listen here,
Do you not know my language

Or will you pretend you don’t speak
The dialect of my ache?

I grieve like it was a death,
But no one sends flowers
It slipped out quietly,
no funeral,
just echoes
where laughter used to live.

Who have I become?
a mosaic of all the people that I've ever met
filled with the sadness of my shadows.
I don’t know your face
When I pass mirrors now—

You look at me like you know me
I wonder what you recognize my soul has changed
My soul has warped into something bitter and rotten
longing for tending to
like a flower that wilts away after neglect.

If only I could reach
beyond the cracks in my skin...
...But I cannot reach
beyond the glass between us—
where my reflection waits,
And I am always just out of reach.