Body of water
Light pink hue
Who would've thought
That at a time like this
I'd be missing you
Crown of silver
Heart of gold
All the stories you told
Disappear
Warmth of hands
Has now gone cold
What's the matter
Where's your soul

sometimes i am flying high through white
so high nobody could touch me
sometimes i am trapped in gray
feeling nothing, being nothing
most of the time i am drowning in deep dark blue
being dragged under unable to move
i want to experience red and green
i want to dance through yellow and lay in purple
i want to feel things not to an extreme
im tired of flying and drowning
i want to be free

i killed myself.
my old self.
sometimes she likes to sneak back into the cracks in my bones,
but she's never there for long.
she knows she is not welcome there.

i killed myself.
my old self.
then i bloomed like a dandelion,
fierce and ready to conquer all.
sometimes people like to pluck me
because i'm a ****.
but weeds can be flowers too if you get to know them.

m.a.l.

again,
i don't really know.
its just that,
sunsets have brighter colours now,
and its easier to get up in the morning.
blankets are softer,
and water tastes better.
music has more rhythm,
and the wind doesn't ******* over anymore.

please don't stop being you.

a.h.d.

To me, he was the sky.

Occasionally a pure blue
polka dotted with cotton clouds
spinning me in delirious circles
until falling breathless in the grass.

Sometimes an exquisite sunset
dyeing his colours in my skin
turning a plain, overlooked girl
into his "favourite piece of art".

But all too often a stunning storm
icy particles piercing my flesh
his words bruised on my cheek
leaving me shivering in his wake.

Mostly a dull, grey expanse
beyond feeling or caring
about anything, especially me
his name left hollow in my mouth.

Maybe I'm better off indoors.

I want to hitchhike down
those highways

(the long streaks of color
in your eyes)

past your thoughts and into
our garden