lost

…happiness?


Kilometers of thoughts,

Strange thoughts.

They’re too heavy to hold,

So I wrap them around myself.

Inhaling has become harder;

My chest is being crushed

By the invisible hardship that

I have created myself.

Brain at a highway speed,

It doesn’t hear my pleas to stop.

I might be losing my mind.

I stand on the path and

Cannot catch up with

My own brain.

No more hope to reach what’s

So much faster than myself.

I stop at a blossoming field of colza,

Bright yellow flower carpet

Calms me down.

My mind is not here anymore;

I have let it go.

My lips stretch in a crooked smile:

I don’t have a brain.

Is that… happiness?

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The story


You are a wonderous piece

Of my imagination;

I have created you

Out of a single thought,

An image stuck in my head.

Breathing between seconds,

Counting time between the heartbeats

I pray for you not to end.

An empty room:

I filled it with you.

Every letter of you

Creates a story,

A story of you.

And maybe me too.

Sentence by sentence,

It grows and fills the room.

Once the door opens,

The story will be over.

Will you be the one

To open the door

When there is no more space

For me in it?

I have built a throne

For my imagination

And let it rule the broken kingdom

Of my dreams,

But the crown

Will always be yours.

It is crafted from shadows in

The deepest corners of my mind,

But it still shines brighter than

Your eyes.

I have lost the game.

Hide-and-seek is over,

And I cannot run away

To hide again.

My inner voice is telling me

To stop.

Should I trust it?

I can feel it staring at me,

Demanding to open the door or look away.

The door…

Is the story over?

I cannot tell.

Pinch me, I think I am dreaming,

Because you do not exist.

You are just a wondrous piece

Of my imagination.

Too. Much.


I detach your smile from myself.

The sunlight of yesterday is falling out

Of the eyes wet from tears.

Swinging left and right, back and forth…

It’s making me light-headed.

Drums in the head are beating the rhythm of your steps

As you come closer;

I’m convulsively searching for the words to say,

But the play room of my brain is in too big of a mess

To find the right mask.

I get lost. 

So insecure.

Nothing to hide behind.

You see me as I am,

Silently staring at you in confusion.

I lost. The layer is down.

Too. Much. Of. Me.