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ilias Jul 2023
Ich renne. Lautlos. Meine Füße berühren abwechselnd den Kies, ein paar Steinchen nehme ich kurz auf meinem Weg mit, danach bleiben sie einsam neben Anderen liegen.
In meinen Ohren ertönt der nicht endende Bass meiner Gedanken.  
   müde. müde. müde.
Es ist das Wissen um das Ankommen, das mich weiter antreibt. Ankommen, da wo der Wald den Himmel trifft. Ankommen, da wo der Regen unter mir immer noch fällt. Da, wo ich Ruhe finden werde.
Links und rechts wiegen sich die Bäume zu meinem Rhythmus im Wind. Alles pfeift mir zu. Das Rauschen des Flusses ist mein Applaus. Er gilt mir, und nur mir. Weil ich es bald geschafft habe.
Da wo das Brummen lauter wird, wird das Rauschen leiser. Die Menschheit ist wieder spürbar. Und ich laufe, laufe laut. Meine Arme strecken sich aus nach dem greifbaren Ziel.

Stillstand.

Einatmen, ausatmen, tief einatmen.
-
Meine Gedanken fallen vor mir. Und mit mir fällt das Leben.
Es kommt unten an und zerbirst in Millionen Scherben. Ich tue es ihm gleich.

Willkommen Unendlichkeit.
ilias Jun 2023
i’m haunted by the ghosts of you
and the smell of your presence
in the school‘s bathroom
makes me choke.
you are everything that I once was
you carved me out like a pumpkin
and pegged the seeds up your wall
-
it must have been terribly lonely
not to be anything, not to be anyone
that‘s why you decided to take it all
from me

right?
people take my only passions and dreams and brag about them.
ilias Jun 2023
i am dancing loudly
to the sounds of eternity,
sixty feet closer to the sun
sixty feet above the ground.
sun and moon are gone
but the lights are still flickering;
raindrops on the rail-
it’s water in the purest form,
mixed with the bittersweet
smell of the trees.
i am dancing quietly,
to humming car engines,
to the song of despair.
my flesh is made of burning soil
and stops my soul from emerging

‘‘hush baby,
with thy fall shall come thy rise“
  May 2023 ilias
My Dear Poet
SAD
you cried all the summer rain
and howled the winter moon
along you sung a spring of sad
and played an autumn solemn tune
years of tears left seasons dry
a drought of death you bloom
mountains of fountains
of clouds in your eye
rained our storm and doom
ilias Apr 2023
tomorrow.
five hours between a hundred strangers, writing for my life.
my finals are starting, my hair is falling out, my self harm worsens and my anxiety is reaching for the stars.
tomorrow.
trying to decipher the text in front of me, that is not only black ink but letters and words, even sentences.
I need to calm down.
how do I calm down?
I am burning, crying, screaming.
I am hiding silently in my bed, knowing my body - loving as it is - provides me with enough bacteria to cough. my burning throat matches my inability to talk, to think, to see.
tomorrow.
the hours are counted, my life is not ending.
why is it not ending?
do I need it to stop?

please make it stop.
ilias Feb 2023
it had been a slow day
it was summer, the heat was unbearable
you were knocking on my door
I was afraid, I didn’t want to open,
I wanted to slit my wrists and bleed out in bed

„oh hello lovely“
why can‘t I for once just write about something normal, I hate the mind of mine. I feel disgusting.
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