𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒑𝒐𝒆𝒎𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒄𝒉  
𝒂 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒆𝒙𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆.  
𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚’𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒐𝒓𝒂𝒓𝒚— 𝒖𝒏𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒖𝒏𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒚.
𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒇𝒖𝒄𝒌 𝒎𝒆 𝒖𝒑  
𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒕𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎.

Up or all away, I have said
before I'm sad and don't know
what to say. Progress is slow
and focus shifts between bad
and just a little better.

It seems unfinished, what I
meant to contribute.
It seems uncertain if it will ever be.
It seems uncertain if I'm still even me.

I told him I write poetry.
He asked me if I'll write poems about him.
And I said, yes every time you break my heart.
"Well then I'll never break your heart"
That was a promise he never kept.

You ask me why I eat my feelings?

Simple.

Food comforts me.
It doesn't beat me.

It doesn't mock me for crying.
Doesn't betray me.

It puts on fat to protect me.

From fists.
Belts.
Sharp
Words.
Past.
Present.
Future.

If I look like I lack discipline.

You misunderstand.

Discipline was never safe.
Never safe.
For me.

So I eat my feelings.
Of un-safe-ty.
Never close to
satiating
the hunger for love
inside of me.

How swiftly the strained honey
of afternoon light
flows into darkness

and the closed bud shrugs off
its special mystery
in order to brake into blossom

as if what exists, exists
so that it can be lost
and become precious.

by Lisel Mueller

If i kiss you here.
Will that brings us together?
Will our love be an ever after?

If i touch you there
will that bridge build faster,
for us to be together?

if this illustionary love be real
I'd be a thief, a forbidden deal
Holding a broken seal
Of the unspoken truth
Of everyone i'll hurt.

I don't want that, I'd rather be alone
And hold a heart of stone.
Be at peace to the dream out of reach.
At least i know how to love.

tonight I’m calling fearful souls
the peers of my tribe
there is chaos in the heart of stones we are casting
there is a lot of pain in unborn desires
we are trembling, we are holding our breath –
what does it mean to feel safe
we are dreaming and waiting
old mothers are screaming unheard
the tyrant is playing backgammon with God

I am searching for each of you in the safety of dawn
the beast with bottomless eyes is here
Inside
so difficult to grasp our soul
to endure this: a world of faceless people
we cover our eyes, mouth, hearts
bottomless eyes are smearing

the body as a battlefield
oh, we remember what we want to have forgotten
we collapse under the burden of our own fragility
the history repeats itself shutting down stories
so many stories of cancelled love

the slaughterhouse soul is too heavy
and I can’t remember the ancient joy and innocence
the simplicity of being
words have just exploded
and my heart is cracked open

and now I am afraid even of my words
of that which should not be named
the murderer of soul, dignity and poetry

I am afraid of staring into bottomless eyes
without my peers
without my tribe

My tears turn to crystals & glisten pain!