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6d · 89
Walking tragedy
maria 6d
Can't find happiness;
I looked for her in the empty roads
Asking strangers was kind of difficult
and frustrating
I shouted her name a thousand of times
She kept her eyes down
She put her hands in her ears
She doesn't want to hear
nor visit
nor live anywhere near
I don't blame her
She has other things to do
Walking tragedy isn't one of her favorite
Happiness where are you?

Written on October 07, 2019
Sep 26 · 484
Teeth
maria Sep 26
I saw a dream
My teeth fell
A lot of blood in between
That's how unlucky I am
emotional pain,
even in my dreams

Written on September 26, 2019
maria Sep 23
I wanted to be a psychologist
now I'm discovering biology.

I used to love doing athletics
now I'm lying down in my bed
eating chocolate bars and crying for the mess.

I loved reading books
now my library is full of dust.

My grades used to be perfect
but if you look at them right now
you won't even find an A.

I don't know who I'm trying to impress
I don't know who I'm trying to fool
I'm not myself anymore.

In depth, there lays a question:
     did you live or compromise?
I'm losing myself.

written on September 23, 2019
Sep 20 · 73
cereal bowl
maria Sep 20
In the ***** streets
I saw your face,
In the rough sea
I felt your body,
In the bus stations
I smelled your perfume,
In my cereal
I tasted your tears,
In the loud radios
I heard your absence.

On my pillow
I shouted my goodbyes.

I don't see you anymore.
My cereal bowl is full of your lies.
Trying to get over lies and the loneliness you caused.

Written on September 20, 2019
Sep 11 · 185
you and me, we
maria Sep 11
hey,
you
and
me
today
or
tomorrow
someday
or
never,
forever
a
We
Someday in a universe

Written on September 11, 2019
Sep 9 · 268
last minute
maria Sep 9
I have to go again.
Are you afraid?

I'm leaving the country,
the sympathy
and the fake dreams.
Do you care?

I pack everything
but I'm sure something's missing.
What are you running from?

I check myself in the mirror.
It's the last minute before I go.

Nothing changes.
I'm so afraid
oh, I don't care.

I'm running from my questions
but I guess I'm missing my soul.
Quote of the poem:
《I'm running from my questions but I guess I'm missing my soul》

Written on September 9, 2019
Aug 31 · 216
a bunch of before
maria Aug 31
I've met you before
and then you changed direction

I've loved you before
and then you changed your hair

I've lost you before
and you didn't care

I've missed you before
and then you found another pair

I've left you before
you're forever shocked

I'm alive
Evey before is followed by an after. Letting you go was the best 'after' of my life.

Written on August 31, 2019
Aug 29 · 177
blur
maria Aug 29
just another night
my sky is a blur,
all a mess,
can't figure why,
   or maybe I know,
I don't want to know.
just another night
I can't see clear anymore.
I don't even understand those feelings.
Written on August 30, 2019
Aug 26 · 547
Cloudy goodbyes
maria Aug 26
Salty eyes when I look in the sky for your absence

The clouds are not in the mood to reply

I'm not in the mood to keep trying

It's raining outside

I take my clouds and leave the town

Goodbye
To the sad days that I'm getting used to
Written on August 27, 2019
Aug 21 · 256
Why?
maria Aug 21
Why did you have to make me hate myself for loving you?

Why do I have to live with the memories of you when all I want to do is forget?

Why did you have to destroy all I ever thought of you?

Why did you make me lose every hope in love?
Sometimes it's not the break up that destroys you but it's everything after that. Sometimes you don't know a person if you've never been in a difficult situation. And when you see the distance and cruelty you're just disappointed.


Written on August 21, 2019
Aug 21 · 121
Faded blue
maria Aug 21
My heart is now blue,
faded blue,
like the headache you caused me wasn't enough.
You're trying and trying to warm me,
oh, please,
I don't want this.
Let me decide,
I want to keep dying.
a time situation when everything felt a faded blue

Written on August 21, 2019
Jun 16 · 120
I don't know
maria Jun 16
I don't even know how to talk about this.

My mind's playing games with me,
I am the end of the game.
My mum wants to help,
she doesn't understand,
me and help don't get along with each other.

I don't even know why I'm talking about this.

It doesn't seem like I'm actually talking about something,
meanwhile I'm talking about everything.
Different inflection when I see myself,
shadows and stars sleeping in the same bed.

I don't know why I'm so difficult to understand.
Is there a moment ,or maybe more, when you just can't get along with your own self, with your own thoughts? Is there a moment when you don't even know what you're doing anymore, what your arguing with, why you're so confused and exhausted?
Well, it's okay. Be true to yourself. It'll pass. Not now maybe, but it will.

written on June 17, 2019
Jun 14 · 530
moon heart
maria Jun 14
Her scars are beautiful.
    It's like,
the shades of the moonlight
capture her last goodbyes,
  capture  her very first 'I love you'.
    It's like,
  when the moon godness saw her
struggle,
broke into pieces
   just to fill her pain,
and the pieces,
were only meant to her heart.
We are all meant to be here even if sometimes it doesn't feels like there's a point at all. And whatever... We do have something to do with the universe. Maybe if we try to look like it, and be our own magic self we will survive and realize our own beauty.
We are part of the nature. We are part of this miracle no matter what.

written on June 14, 2019
Jun 13 · 413
Bouquet of lilies
maria Jun 13
She pulls me out of town with a bouquet of lilies
holding me tight, but soft, she talks about valleys of freedom.
She begs me to visit a country full of angel statues.
She's so confusing but sweet somehow.

The way she talks about revolution makes you wanting to burn bridges
and you know you would do it if She let your hand.
You would have fight bats and demons
but she just couldn't stop keeping you in touch.

She's talking and talking and talking,
you're not tired.
You're trying to compliment her through your laugh.
She doesn't let you speak.

Then she speaks out about how good you are,
how proud your children will be.
You can't help but dream of a life with her.
She looks in the sky and smile.

She stops in front of a river.
The water is so clean.
Birds are dancing above it
making love to your dreams.

Now it's the time to tell her how you love it when she sleeps,
how you're drowning for a kiss,
how you would do anything to make her yours to be.
She sees deep into your eyes.

She gets so quiet.
You're about to hug her
tell her you're not comfortable with her silence;
she left your hand.

Whispering, she tells you she's dying.
Her calm tone doesn't change a bit.
You, you realize that the sun burns.
She monologues that it was burning for so long.

I'm standing here looking for the joke.
She begs me to take care of her dog.
You're afraid to tell the little one, that mama's not coming home.

She demands only lilies in her grave,
white lilies of hope,
the opposite
of her black soul.

The river is so ***** and dull.
The storm that came within killed the nightingales,
destroyed nature's melodies,
rocks and branches like spears bloked the flow of the water
demanding for pure blood.

Wolves stand all around the river
crying their lives out,
the trees in the area scream and shout.
Someone could said they're enjoying the chaos.

The lilies fell from her tiny hands.
Silence.
written on June 13, 2019
Jun 12 · 404
Coffee realizations
maria Jun 12
I call myself for your attention
but do I need it seriously?
Do I need the taste of your lips
on my coffee cup?
Do I need your perfume running through my late night baths?

The you I want,
who is it?
Is it you who turned me into thousand of pieces?
Or is it just the aftertaste of a bad dream?

The you I want is not a you.
Is not a thing,
but maybe it is.
It doesn't exist in thoughts
it doesn't seem to has a face.

I drink my coffee in the mornings.
All I can see is a kid with no body, no structure.
All I see is myself.
Looking for myself or maybe I don't know what else.

written on June 12, 2019
maria Jun 9
Rocks in my apartment,
I don't clean.

You see, the fluffy pillows
host a party tonight,
seems like all my enemies
are invite.
There's blood in the floor, indeed.

Music captures the shaky windows,
curtains dancing in the backround,
tragedy hits the door
right from the shadows.

I don't want to be here.
Listening is painfull,
watching gets knifes in my lungs,
the guests are laughing on me.
Anxiety says hi.

The house shouts "Welcome",
please,
I only need sadness for my art.
Sometimes sadness just knock the door out of nowhere and you just can't bagged it out or you don't want to, sometimes it's the same thing.

written on June 9, 2019
Jun 8 · 247
Who are you anyway?
maria Jun 8
Remember my name,
you said,
and the way you left
a rock festival in my soft skin.

The once bright sky
now full of dust and cries,
burning stars
all over my bed sheets,
who are you anyway?

Keep me close,
you wish,
no one ever fool me
like this.

Ocean colours
in my eyes,
chasing something
that never was mine.

Oh please,
you're just another blurred wasted drink
in my fancy night.
written on June 8, 2019
maria Jun 8
Πόλη μου μικρή, μεγάλη, φουρτουνιασμένη,
πότε με βρίσκεις στους δρόμους σου
σ'ένα παγκάκι αδειανό,
σ'ένα παλιό καράβι.
Κι άλλοτε σε δρόμους που ανεβαίνουν, σε μαγαζάκια και στροφές,
και χθες σε δρόμο που κατέβαινε και κατρακυλούσαν φύλλα, φωνές.

Πόλη μου,
πότε με χάνεις σε σκέψεις παλιές.
Σε δρόμους με ψάχνεις, μα είναι ξένοι,
παρελθοντικοί.
Και χάνεις, όλο και χάνεις.
Χάνεις και πάλι αυτή την παρτίδα,
όσο κι αν με μαγεύουν τα χάδια και τα ταξίδια,
είμαι δοσμένη αλλού.

Πόλη μου, κρύα, ζεστή, παραμυθένια,
με ζεσταίνουν οι άνθρωποι σου,
μα να πάλι, με το πρώτο κρύο
νοσταλγώ τους ανθρώπους μου.
Με ψάχνεις κι εγώ κοιτάω από την άλλη.
Ψάχνω την κλεμμένη μου καρδιά
όσο μακριά κι αν είναι,
όσο κι αν ο καιρός θρυμματίζει μνήμες,
θολώνει ματιές.
Ψάχνω.

Πόλη μου,
εσύ η αιτία.
Η αιτία του πόνου μου
κι η αιτία της χαράς μου,
ο λόγος που αγαπάω ακόμα πιο πολύ,
ο λόγος που κάθε αγκαλιά κρατάει με τους καιρούς,
-τόσο-
για να ζεσταίνει τους άχαρους χειμώνες σου.
written on Octomber 27, 2018
mariaxinari
maria Jun 8
I was wondering why
and I searched every piece in my mind.
That's how it works?
That's how it is?
Maybe things are just like a thrill.

I place my thoughts in order
I stayed in your softness
I trust but was I fool or in love?

So,
place your heart next to mine
blow up like a thousand of skies
be your own kind of dark
be your own kind of magic.

Stay,
stay away or stay close
give me everything or give me zero
replace your bones, replace my soul
you don't ask you just glow.

Trust,
trust yourself when you say goodbye
and trust your thoughts when you're saying alright
far away you'll find a sign
just focus on my eyes.

As you're afraid,
I'll tell you something,
even if loving you isn't enough
you've still got me crazy just by your sight.

Love is a mystery
love is whatever it is
and you broke all of it.

So stupid me I wonder,
why everything that you love that's what you destroy?
written on February 20, 2018
Jun 8 · 196
Unachieved goals
maria Jun 8
You ask me what are my goals.
What I'm I supposed to tell you?
That I don't have any goals?
That I have no idea what I'm going to do with my life?
That I'm so confused?
Why is that?
Maybe I'm just focused on survival.
Maybe because the dreams I once had, proved to be fake, proved to be silly.
written on August 31, 2017
Jun 8 · 675
She
maria Jun 8
She
The sun is waking up like a small rose rises up,
she is beautiful.
Across her little cave there is a river, a blue and white and purple river.
She's a pretty sunbeam.

She,
the only flower in the iceberg,
the bravest snowflake in the desert,
she doesn't know anything about it.

Running through her silly problems, silly for those they think this is all about sympathy,
she hits everything that comes between her and her future.

She's crying,
she's shouting that this is not fair,
that she can't take it anymore,
but she's giving life by her empty words.

Her scars know she's stunning,
her wavy hair tell her she's more than important,
her heavy legs shout that she is the strongest person they know,
she only mumbles she feels like a stone.

She,
she is full of dust,
but she is fully loved.
She is sparkles and magic stars
but staring in the mirror she sees a ghost.
to every broken girl, woman in this world,
you're stunning

written  on June 8, 2018

— The End —