I have a list in my head of things I really want. It goes something like this.

- A house where I can live in for as long as I want, with a nice kitchen and maybe a cat.
- Some friends that really love me for me and make me happier then without them.
- The possibilities to travel wherever and whenever I want.
- A job I enjoy and a body that works.

So for me, this list is the ultimate state of happiness. It occured to me that a boyfriend or husband or lovelife is not on this list. That's why I really wonder: how come I spend everyday thinking about that and trying to fix that part of my life instead of the others?

I've tried to write a hundred poems
since the day you left.
I've tried metaphors and spoken word,
But it seems that all I have
Is books filled with i miss you's
And a title i feel sad
How do you put in words
The empty feeling of this bed
Has there been named a word
For craving something that's not mine
I don't know what the fase is called
Between ****** up and fine
I know it's not depression
Humiliation, suffer, rage
The poem to describe this
Would just be an empty page

Some day, we have to stop blaming everyone else.
Our father for leaving.
Our teachers for not letting us be kids.
Our sister for needing more help.
Our mother for not giving more.
Our friends for not understanding.
Our exes for not being gentle.

Someday now it's time to woman up
Get in charge
And **** all those external influinces.

You have so much in your hands
They have nothing over your happiness.

He walks with pavarotti in his vains and calls his daughter rock and roll.
His charm is the face of the restaurant.

In the kitchen two man are sweating above pastas and antipasti to feed their children tajine at home.

On the terrace there are girls trying not to drop any glasses because of the guy on table 204.

There's a guy behind the bar that was bad in his country, and now feels what is normal.

They speak of the boss as if he's always watching, though he's rarely ever there.

There are 10 different nationalities in there but when the chorus of a certain song plays they all sing that one word.

*Bellisimo.

You still take my breathe sometimes,
and my mouth craves to speak all the vowels of your name.
Oh how the memory of your touch still echos through this town and all drunken dark alleys always lead to your voice.

If I could go back I would have never met you because all we learned this time is that life was still a *****,
no matter how well you mean or how hard you try or how sincere it feels.

I'd give so much to erase you and your ghost that's watching over everything I do.
Sometimes I find it staring at me or whispering terrible things to my mind at night.
You were good for nothing, not a lesson learned.
Everytime I pass that balcony my heart forgets to beat.
I still spend hours fighting feelings that were supposed to be long gone and (godverdomme ik mis je)

And it just won't stop

Don't ask me those questions
for I have no idea why I am like this either.
All I know is how I'd be easier without his abscense.
Don't ask me what I want
because I don't know how to analyse these feelings
let alone turn them in words.

Please don't ask me
and just be here just close enough for me to grab
and figure out everything at the speed of zero
as I trace you
Up
and
Down
and
as I look at you and put all the pain in my eyes
I hope you can read it.

I just don't know the answers.

I blame you, dad
For all the ****** up things I do to myself
I blame you for the meds I take
I blame you for the guys I choose
I blame you for everytime I fall in love and every anxiety attack
I blame you when my body starts to tell me that I'm wrong
I blame you for all this ****
For me desperately loving my uncle
Untill the point that I'm terrified that maybe
Just maybe
He doesn't like everything about me
Just like I do with every ******* guy
And I blame you
I wish you were different
And here
I wish you'd just think of these things
And care
Just a little
But you don't
And I can't figure out how you do that
So I blame you