You made me lose control by turning me into art. An unexpected act directed by your fingers. Your lips and tongue moistened my ear lobe as the sound of your breath echoes through my body. My consciousness intrigued by the intractable language my body spoke. Faster as my legs start to shake. Faster. As my moaning gives direction. Your lips around my *******, my neck, my mouth. Our tongues wrestling if it was sorting issues out. Faster. As my breathing gives you confirmation. Faster. As my forehead is getting covered with damp. Faster as my body lets go, and welcomes you in the form of shaking legs and involuntary muscle contractions. Welcomes you in a horrified pure way. Into the world behind the walls and masks. I welcomed you and myself into a non existence world of vulnerability. And you wrapped your arms around me and kissed my forehead. Telling me that it is okay. And you smiled when I looked you in the eye. And pulled me even closer. It was all okay. Life, for a moment, was more than okay

I do not want you to be the reason I lose control of my feelings again

I wish I could forget your fingers grabbing the last peach in the bowl, but I found myself making it, my every days breakfast.

Is it selfish to expect and want the same amount of love as you are giving?

Words do exist
And so do I
It is not nothing new
Or something special

It are just words
An order of words which creates new lines
New ideas

But it are my words
My process of creating new lines
Of pushing boundaries with the order
With the structure
It enables me to show
And express
Of opening eyes

It are just words
But these words
This lettertype and size
Can start a revolution
It makes me strong
It gives me a voice
It makes people wanna talk
While I'm talking
With these words

Let the war start
Let the discussion begin
Let we talk
Use words
To tell the world what we are feeling
Show emotions about what is going on
Inequality and power distance
Poverty and hunger
Let we talk about it
Let we write about it
Let we start a revolution
Of love
Sadness
and uncountable words

can I drop school because I want to write?

I never knew how it felt lacking words; Being unable to express; unable of movement; of communicating.
I never felt how it was being unable to understand, how it was to be misunderstood. The unwillingness to understand.
You looked at me as if I was invisible, if I was a blank page in a fantasy book.
If I was the rain after a happy summer day. If I was about to leave my body. Couldn’t you tell that I was losing? Losing from the battle with my thoughts? Couldn’t you see that my tears were screaming for help? That the hands in my hair were asking you to hold me. Asking you to understand me. To be with me.
I never knew how it felt to be this small. Sitting on the ground. Wanting to disappear. My voice thrills, my legs are shaking, my mouth is dry, and my feelings are the only thing I am able to swallow. I never felt so naked, naked with my clothes on. My walls and masks; my personalities and defense mechanism. Gone. There was me. Naked. Me. Sitting on the cold floor, facing myself. Crying. Calling. Asking to be understood. Asking For help. For answers. For somebody to save me. To save me from myself.
I never knew how it felt to lose.                                    

But I did lose

I did.

-AIL