Aeerdna Mar 9
I have never thought about getting here
27 years old and 10 pounds lighter than 8 weeks ago
It's all in numbers, you see
How many cigarettes I have smoked today
How many drinks I've had
How many times I've lost you

It's all in numbers
And as I count the eyelashes shadowing my eyes
I still remember
It's been 1000 years
Since my heart has been
Broken down.

The way it has been
In these 24 hours
Since you decided to say goodbye
For the last time.

Aeerdna May 2017
It's been some time now
And I still haven't figured out how to walk past you
Without feeling that every muscle in my body is dying
Including the one beating in my chest
So fast
That my skin starts hurting.

And I'm sitting here now
Trying to cover my eyes with the smoke of the millionth cigarette I've smoked
Since I last saw your eyes.

And my skin still hurts.

And somehow
The calm rain washing the ground where I've spilled my drunken soul
Still sounds like your voice.

Like music does.

And my soul smells like you.

And my skin still hurts.

Like your absence does.

It's been some time now
And I still haven't figured out
How to close my eyes
Without seeing you in my dreams.

And my skin still hurts.

Like your smile does.
Aeerdna May 2017
Unable to sleep
Though my eyes are so tired
From having to see all the pain
I pour in the mirror
Day by day.

(They've never felt better than the last time when your face was reflected in their blue shade).

I switch from side to side
In this bed where your absence
Makes me feel like I am in the middle of a snowstorm
While I'm trying to run from all those monsters
I once told you about.
The ones your voice would chase away at night
Just by calling and saying that everything is all right.


I miss the way your arms around me made me feel warm
On that Friday night
When the worst monster was the train taking me away from your side.

And I miss you.

But that's something I am not suppose to say.
Not now.
Not now that the Universe has decided
To place our hearts at a safe distance one from the other.

And under these layers of skin and flesh
I can feel my soul turning into a pile of dust
wearing the scent of your embrace.

After all,
I guess,
No distance is long enough
For a heart filled with longing.
and pain.
Aeerdna Apr 2017
I need to fill up my eyes with your smile
I need to take this cold skin I am wearing and turn it
into something you would wanna touch one day.

I'm holding to your memory
Like an old lady holding to a bag where she keeps the scraps
of a lonesome life—
A photograph, a book and some keys not opening any door.
Not anymore.

I remember the talks we used to have late at night
When you were asking me
Who or what I am
And I've never been able to give you an answear you'd like.
Never found it.

And now you don't ask me anymore
And it's late for anything I say
and the spring is showing her beauty in the air
while I am sitting here with my heart sinking in solitude.
And the wind is blowing, is bringing sadness in these  eyes of mine
while the blossoms are flying up to the sky.

And for the first time in my life I have an answer:

I am the girl with blossoms in her hair
and winter in the eyes

who loves you.
Aeerdna Mar 2017
There's a storm inside me
it starts every time I hear your laughter in the night,
when I think about the way we changed
from human beings
to some people who can only share
some words written on a cold page;

it's hard to explain how is it that I miss you
when I've never really had you in the first place
and you wouldn't understand
you see
your heart has long forgotten about feelings like these.


I hear your voice calling my name
I see you before my eyes
even in my dreams I write you in bleeding lines
and in my waking hours
your smile brings raindrops in my coffee
and tears on the shirt I wear
because once you said that you liked it;

spring brings tulips at my doorstep
but it's hard to feel their perfume
to let their scent in my broken lungs;

people tell me that all I have to do
is breathe

but it's hard to breathe without crying.
  Mar 2017 Aeerdna
i search for other opportunities like the back of my hand
takes secrets from
the corner of your lips

and you tiptoe with your fingertips
on what might have been my shoulder
what might have been my stomach,

there is no difference to be close:to know
which part is part,
whose is whoes,

& the other way;
and the events of the day, fragmented into
which i make mine and
which i make yours

and the equations we listed that makes scripture
on my arm in the small hairs that remind me
of the small brown dot you wear on your wrist

(and i want to kiss it very much)

and the crosswalks i clop across and the cobblestones
you gave me in sunlight and the *
blossoms that do in fact fly
      to touch the pink of my face
  (because we look so much alike)

and i do not remember why we fight with our plans
and i do not remember why ever

i would want to be
any other

when already it was always the same
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