La petite mort

Electrify me with your love.
I cannot breathe, I cannot move.
Paralyzed by your inner touch.
It is cold and warm and quiet
And, oh, so loud.
I bite down on my hand - hard
just to remember that I exist.
At the tips of your fingers
I turned into one million pieces
And with a thrust of your hips,
you put me together again.
Share your breathing air with me!
Wake me up with a soul-shattering kiss!
There are no thoughts;
This little death
silenced my overthinking mind
I shiver and quiver,
and gasp until I see the light.
I feel it in every cell, I am
electrified by your love.

How can I love again? (367 words, fiction)

Out of all the girls he had ever had a crush on, she was the most intriguing one. She loved him, that much was clear; but she also challenged him. She showed him how to love and trust again after the betrayal he had suffered at the hands of the last woman he had loved openly and freely. She was reliable and had lots of integrity. She always meant what she said, and he had never once caught her in a lie. Oh, she had an eccentric mind and she was weird in all the right places, but she knew how to handle him and he knew how to handle her too. She had a unique sense of humour; a bit like his, and a lot of general knowledge, she was intelligent and kind. Whenever he needed something, she was there to provide. Advice, money, a shoulder to cry on; she was always there. 
Once, he had felt that she was becoming too close and in a weak attempt to push her away, he had tried getting to know another girl, but the new girl had quickly become a bore and she had not understood him in the least. And he needed to be understood without needing to spell everything out. And so he went back to his honey babe luv. They fought that night because she was jealous and didn't want to admit it. But he knew her better than that, and in the end, he had made sure that she felt loved by him. They made up and became even stronger than they had been before. Their bond, their connection was special. Unique.
He scratched his chin and looked at the selfie she had sent in response of his own. He smiled fondly and wished for her to be there. He decided to call her. He loved her. He wanted to care for her and to protect her. He wanted to share every little thing with her. "Mmh ja allo?" was her typical way of answering the phone. He chuckled. She was saving him a little more with every moment they spent in each other's company. And he began to tell her about his day.

growing in the dark

There is sorrow you share and there is comfortable silence too. 
And as we walk hand in hand through the darkness; under the moon's pale hue
There is a hug, so tight that your broken pieces grow back together.
Each breath, each sob lets you become light like a feather.
In my arms, I feel your despair. In my arms, I hold you; I am there.
Just for a moment you allow yourself to be bare, because you know that I care.
Whenever our minds meet, our souls touch. I cannot deny it: I love you. Very much.

Full moon

I am floating on broken hearts
Growing on forgotten pasts.
If I could fly in an ocean
Leave my mind wide open -
But I cannot be a reflection of you
If I did, I would go under too.
How many times must I forget
The exact moment our souls met?
I am nothing without your silent affection.

The moon is round again
Tempting us to pretend
That our bubble will never burst
And that every wrong can be reversed.
But that is not how life works
Old words will always hurt.
We run away to sleep on clouds
Refusing to cover up in shrouds.
A divine reaction of our deep connection.

after the sun goes up

You are the leftover thought I was never overthinking
A smell, lingering on my pillow.
You are the rainbow disappearing in the clouds
A tattoo, hidden under my skin.
You are the inhaled smoke of my last cigarette
A fleeting comfort, fading fast.
You are an angel's tears, raining down on me
A moment of clarity; never a fantasy.
You are a delicate memory of a pure but broken soul
A lover, vanishing at sunrise.


I feel your presence long before I know you are there. I am at peace when you are around. Serene, when I hear you say my name.
Let a new day begin; the sun will rise again. And I feel a love so deep, it is flowing through my veins.
Your passion slows my heartbeat and whispers secrets into my screaming mind.
Your light shines from deep within, it comes out as tears that stain my skin.
I felt our connection long before we met. A gentle siren’s call we cannot ignore.
We are ancient stardust. Eternal lovers, a story written in the sky by our guiding angels.
Breathe forgotten memories into me.

empty bed

Baby, can you hold me? I had another one of those dreams. I am still shaken, but I cannot remember what my mind has seen.

Can you hold me for a little longer? I need your arms around me and your nose against my neck. Ground me. Just until I feel stronger.

Baby, can you help me through this mess? Tell me to breathe, and kiss my hair. Sing me to sleep with a gentle caress.

Can you help me one more time? Chase the evil spirits away, and hold me until the sun comes up. Can you do that, angel-of-mine?

Don’t say a word

And the invisible child tries to escape my adult skin.

Too many wounds, too much hate

And every self-proclaimed saviour is covered in sin.

So many scars, so much pain

I hide, wrapped in a cocoon made of silk and hurt

Gone. Gone. Past be gone!

My destiny is waiting, paved with feathers and dirt.

Golden Shovel No2

Each Saturday in February, Monty shares a prompt to create a Golden Shovel Poem from. I was a bit late for the first, only wrote something late at the last minute. But this time, I am early. Feel free to join in.

“Cocoa in pods and alligator pears”

The Tropics in New York by Claude McKay

I remember her skin, it looked and tasted like cocoa

In the shadows I hide to see her chest rise as she breathes in

She knows it well; me and her, we are like peas in their pods

I cannot be without her, but I am not allowed to near her and

Every day ends with new soul-wounds; deeper than alligator

bites. I stand still. I see her, having breakfast. Eating a pear.


As always, let’s not overthink. But this reads a bit creepy. Hopefully others wrote something a less stalker-ish.

one day

One day, she will become quiet. She will not drop everything for a moment with him. One day, she will stop caring. One day. Maybe then he will understand what he’s lost and how much she mattered. One day.