the little girl was scared
at first
but now she was terrified
and about to have
a panic attack

He kept her tight
in his arms and covered her
ears and
told her to calm down
and that everything will
be all right

It was 02:24 AM and the
knocks in
the door and all around
the walls and windows
still carried on

And there were howls
coming from
outside and
curses and a constant sound
of nails scratching
on wood

“Daddy, I’m scared! I’m…”

“I know, dear, I know. But
you have to
calm down. Remember to focus
on your breathing like I told you.
Deep, deep breaths, okay? Deep. In
and out. I promise you,
tomorrow everything’s gonna
be fine. I swear.”

“Is it zombies?” asked the
little girl.

“No, dear. It’s something else.”

“What’s it called?”

“An ex-girlfriend, dear.”

the ashtray was looking more
and more
like a sick hedgehog
  
and her yellowed fingers
added one more quill to it
  
she sat back in her chair
  
work wasn't in the best of stages lately and
her office looked like a ******'s
trailer. You could
scrape the nicotine
off the walls. In fact, she
would get nicotine under her nails if she
just scratched her skin
anywhere
  
But otherwise she was
a beauty
and that was a problem. Beautiful
women have the worst
luck in marriages
  
The husband left and the two girls went
with him
They were sick and tired of her
habit to consume more cigarette smoke than
oxygen
  
And drinking was also a problem
though not nearly
as big
  
The worst drinking has ever done to her
was to make her lose
the driving license which she never
bothered to take back
  
The real problem was,
as always,
a lack of money. If the **** phone didn't
ring soon
she would have to **** someone
for a pack of cigarettes
  
Assuming she could still
****
someone with her body rotting from the
inside. She was fine with
breast cancer
but now lung cancer joined too
and it was by far nastier
  
Still
that was all right
It doesn't take a healthy body to pull
a trigger
  
And speaking of triggers
She opened a drawer in her desk
took out the gun
studied it
  
Not loaded
  
She browsed through the drawer
  
Only one bullet left. One single bullet.
These things cost money
too
  
**** it
  
But it's like they said back in
the mercenary camp
The last bullet is always preserved to be
used on the self
  
She loaded the bullet into the
gun
  
A life lived well is one
lived without regrets and without
ever asking for mercy
or feeling sorry for yourself
  
At 39
she had that. There was nothing
else to be taken
away from it
  
She put the gun to her
temple
  
Smiled
  
"Except for a final smoke."

emotions
sat heavily on my chest
squeezing my heart
and burning my head

so i piled three pillows
on top of one another
and tried to scream
the emotions out

nothing changed
except that now
my throat hurts and
my pillows are concerned

so i laughed
at my failed attempt
and wrote a poem about it

29.04.20

I'll follow you through the galaxy
into black holes, around moons, through seas
but will you follow me to a new atmosphere?
It's a planet that's so far from here.

Am I exceptional enough to capture your attention
if I am will this feature last long enough
for us to be known as star and moon for life?
If you follow me, I'll follow you.

I hear you hum,
from the crispy leaves
and mellow rivers,
the gentle breeze
and the arboreal creatures,
breathing the calm,
exhaling the fear,
listening to lush greens,
embracing the forest within

the knight piece of
a chess board
is a sharp thing
because of the horse's pointy ears

This old man came into the ER
with one of those stuck
in his eye
and of course the medics asked how the hell
did it happen

He told them he didn't see with
that eye anyway

"Yes, but still, why did you do it? Why
would you stab the piece
into your eye like that?"

Someone whispered 'dementia'
The patient was in his mid eighties

He told them,
"I just had to get out of that place. Y'all
have anything to drink 'round here?"

The next day an article had been printed
in the local paper
titled
WHY YOU SHOULD NEVER PUT YOUR
OLD PARENTS INTO A NURSING HOME

It was long
and few people read it

4779 digital pages filled
with ramblings
about feelings

thousands of
grammar and
spelling mistakes

a broken heart
consuming itself

a final ‘goodbye’ that came
out of a lover’s mouth long ago
still echoing in the ears

a stadium-load of cockroaches
and rats partying
in the house

a mailbox chocking
on unpaid bills

her room a mass grave
of empty bottles
snowed with ash

no income

electricity about to
be cut off

and she’s still
writing

You are my unsent message.
The cursor blinking rhythmically,
With my heartbeat,
Waiting,
For me to hit send.
But I am not ready,
And I’m not sure if I ever will be
So I left it like that.
Unsent. Unseen. Unread.
“I miss you.”