Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2021
Thought I could be save in his arms.
But that was only a dream.
I want to die.
He says he can’t give himself.

Now it’s taking too much energy, thinking about him.
All I had, all hope lost.
Always lost.
And so incredibly lonely.

Thought I could be save in peace.
Peace has never been here in this world, it’s always a challenge.
My body’s tired but I’m never ready to leave.
I want to feel him over it once more.

Always.
Once more.
Oh save me.
Save me from this curse called “hope”.

It hurts between my eyes.
He can’t receive me with all my pain and intensity.
Can I still try?
Die, try, cry, all the time.

Only small moments.
I long for those moments with him.
His body that's much warmer and so much older than mine.
His face, his head and my tight sensitive body holding it in its hands.

I only have myself, very free.
Free but cold.
Even Odin feels how cold I am when he lies on top of me.
We’re both not able to warm each other as long as I’m with the living.

It’s the hardest thing to do, leaving your body voluntarily.
But I need to.
Save me from this curse called “hope”.
I need to let go.

Always.
Over and over I realise.
I need to not be here.
Here where it’s lonely.

Save me from this curse called “hope”.
21-08-21
Zeena Miedema
Written by
Zeena Miedema  32/F/Gouda(NL)
(32/F/Gouda(NL))   
77
   Fawn and Imran Islam
Please log in to view and add comments on poems