And it is every night
That I forget to love
And it is every night
That I don’t remember
You
Me
You
Me
And it is every night
That I am getting in my way
And it is every night
That I am awake, almost unreal
Me
You
Me
You
Every day
Every night
Nothing to say
Nothing but light
And it is every night
That
You
Me
You
Me
Forever us
Just too real.
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I came here to love you with all my heart, because what we have is stronger than life and deeper than death. That’s the love I feel for you.
🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙✨🌙
2 minutes – 29 words
For P
Love and trust
I was never able to fall asleep in someone’s arms; not until I met you. You once asked why and I joked and steered the conversation in a different direction. The truth is, the answer is Trust. I never trusted anyone until I met you. I never completely opened up, showing my strength and weaknesses. And then you came along and showed me that my weaknesses are my strength. You showed me that there are people who listen, give sound advice without judging, and are simply there without asking anything in return. You showed me that love is free. You taught me so much, but above all, you taught me to trust you. That thought alone; it is scary and freeing. I want to thank you and thank you and thank you, but I know: my love for you is enough. Love and trust. I love and trust you. And you do too.
🌙🌞🌙🌞🌙🌞🌙🌞🌙🌞🌙🌞🌙🌞🌙
153 words – 5 minutes
Enough (new poem)
I am the moon, but you are counting stars
I am always there, but you are chasing cars
Maybe I am not beautiful
Enough
Maybe I am not wise
Enough
Maybe I don’t fight
Enough
Maybe I am not young
Enough
Maybe I will never be
Enough
I am a book, but you only see one sentence
I am in your dreams, but they are forgotten at dawn
Maybe I am not important
Enough
Maybe I am not thin
Enough
Maybe I am not rich
Enough
Maybe I don’t love
Enough
Maybe I am never
Enough
I am a rainbow, but your world is in monochrome
I am real, but you prefer fiction
Maybe I am not pure
Enough
Maybe I am not innocent
Enough
Maybe I am not weak
Enough
Maybe I don’t sleep
Enough
Maybe I don’t see
Enough
Open your eyes and look at me
I am the rain that feeds the earth
I am the inspiration for your art
I am the caress during lonely nights
I am in you, hidden in your mind
Open your eyes and look at me
Maybe someday I am
Enough
Maybe I already am
Enough
Maybe I was always
Enough
Maybe, I’ve had
Enough
Maybe, finally
Enough
Baby, did you forget to take your meds? (221 words)
She wrapped herself in the comfortable blanket of darkness. There it was; again. Like an old friend visiting after months of silence. There they were; again. The tears that had no reason to be there. The emotions that were amplified by the fact that she had not taken her feel-good meds in weeks. They were there; again. She had known they would be back. Parts of her had been looking forward to the emotional embrace. Parts of her had dreaded the impact and the force of the reappearance of her old friend. The comforting blanket of sadness came just in time for the holidays. Was it worth fighting and going back to being numb? Or was the cold and empty reality the better choice? Irrational thoughts caressed her insecurities. Nothing and no one was irreplaceable. Not her. Not her emotions. Who was the true her: the one who was smiling, nodding, and accommodating everyone around her, or the one who easily let her emotions flow, who missed intimacy and closeness?
And while she was overthinking, crying silent tears, she wondered how many of her recent thoughts had been fake and manipulated by the intake of chemical happiness. She took a deep breath, smelling her pillow. A comforting witness of passed memories and deeply felt sorrow. I felt abject loneliness without you.
untitled very short story 1/?
Sara sat on her windowsill with the toothbrush in her mouth. She looked out into the world; into the lives of her neighbors. An old couple was sitting at a table, having dinner. They didn’t talk, but something about them looked peaceful. It looked like a comfortable silence. She looked at the apartment above the couple’s and saw a young woman singing into a hairbrush while dancing in her underwear. It made Sara chuckle. She almost wanted to remember her youth, but she pushed that thought away with a slight shake of her head. She continued brushing her teeth and looking at her neighbors. The naked man doing his daily workout. The couple with the guests, laughing and clinking their glasses in celebration of something; maybe a birthday or an engagement, or some other happy event. Sara kept looking at the lives in front of her as if she was switching channels on the TV. When she saw a woman crying alone, hiding her face in her palms, she decided that she had seen enough. Sara pulled her curtains closed and all the memories of the lives she had seen faded instantly. Almost.
She trudged to the bathroom to rinse out her mouth and wash her face. It was such an automatic thing to do, she did not react when she caught a glimpse of her pale face in the mirror. Sara undressed and threw her clothes in the hamper. It was time to do a load of laundry, then again, it could wait another day. Making her way to the bedroom, she switched off the lights and found a comfortable position in bed. She switched on the TV and let the colors illuminate the dark room. Sara didn’t have anything particular to watch, and so she switched channels until she came across something that appeared almost interesting. After a couple of minutes of looking at the screen, she grabbed her phone and scrolled through social media.
Sometime during her evening routines, a thought had crept into her mind that didn’t let her go. She was alone. Lonely. Everything about her existence was mundane. She was an average woman without anything exciting happening in her life.
No one would spend time looking into her window. She was invisible. Sara grinned. It was a course and a superpower. Don’t let anyone notice you!
✨💜✨💜✨💜
Little author’s note (how very…!)
392 words. This was a very spontaneous thing to be written. There is something like an idea where I want to go and what I want to happen forming in my head. But we’ll see how that goes. I could just as well abandon this again in no time. I am aware that things could and should be elaborated, but this is the very first draft. There is not much thought behind these words (yet). No overthinking (yet). And definitely no editing of any kind. Remember, my first language is Luxembourgish, everything I write in English has to be translated in my head first. Imagine seeing an image in your mind and describing it in a foreign language you haven’t used like that in a while… Yeah, nothing is finished or perfect about this. But still, enjoy reading this short bit. 💜❤️
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I am lying in my bed, looking at the ceiling. Shadows are dancing, encouraged by the wind that is picking up outside. The heat is almost unbearable, even at midnight. The breeze that finds its way inside my bedroom caresses my naked skin. I can’t even fathom the thought of wearing any clothes right now. A nervous kind of energy keeps me awake. My mind is tired, and my body too, but my heart races, and my thoughts keep straying back to you. I miss you; that much is true. After a couple of very intimate and intense weeks, the unlabeled thing we have seems to cool off. And I don’t like that feeling. It’s an old feeling, of course. And it is probably all in my head. As I grow older, attachment issues become real and realer. The fear of rejection or abandonment is almost crippling. Almost. You know, for a moment, I was very sure of you and your love for me. We were together every waking minute that wasn’t spent with work for either of us. We got to know each other; you got to know me. I allowed myself to be just me. Maybe that adds to my insecurities.
Oh, the heat. The heat is a challenge tonight. Time is ticking away, but I still miss you. The distance between us, is it growing because we are comfortable with each other and the space the other takes up in our life, or is it growing because the closeness between us is becoming too much? I am overthinking. I wish I weren’t. I wish I could just grab my phone and send a text. But I can’t, or I won’t, out of fear of becoming someone suffocating. I start counting. It always grounds me in moments like this. Almost like a meditation. It helps my mind to become blank.
The mattress dips under a stranger’s weight, and I am startled. My heart almost jumps out of my chest, and I feel adrenaline flood my body. My breath comes in ragged pants. I must have dozed off or zoned out. I did not notice the door being opened. I am glad I gave you a set of keys. And I am glad you used them to let yourself in.
It is well past midnight now. I smell the soothing scent that is coming off your body. And I can feel your heat. You are naked too. It’s too hot to wear clothes, I think again. You seem to agree with that. You put your head on my chest. I feel the rough stubble of your growing beard on my sensitive skin. It does something to me. I kiss your hair and comb it with my fingers. You moan lazily. I try to remember my earlier thoughts and emotions, but they are old and unimportant right now. It was something about distance and growing apart. Silly me. I must stop these self-sabotaging thoughts from overtaking my sanity.
You put your hand on my hip, and it feels right. Your heat and mine mingling, turning into something unique. Something that only we can create. It’s a fascinating thought that every movement we share and every breath and every word and every touch, every smell and every laugh, and every tear, and simply everything we share is unique. We can repeat words and recreate reasons to cry or to laugh, or to fight, but it will never be the same as the original instance.
Your arm grows heavy on my stomach, pinning me into this position. You are about to fall asleep, and I noticed we did not really talk. You came home into my arms, and you feel safe enough to let go and drop your guard. We discussed this before, the magic of feeling safe and protected with each other, the magic of easing the nervousness and unrest we both feel all too often. I smile and try to take a deep breath. Your head on my chest is heavy. And I can feel the sweat turning into something sticky between us. I never liked that with another man in my life, and I hated it when someone breathed on me, but with you, it doesn’t bother me. I love everything about you. My mind wanders again, and I start counting again. I need to sleep soon. I kiss your hair again, careful not to disrupt this peaceful moment. I love you so much; it is almost scary.
I scold myself and tell myself that this is not the moment for negative thoughts. One…two…three…four…five…six… The shadows are still dancing on the ceiling. A serene moment. I breathe in again. You, your scent fills me, and I smile. My hand keeps caressing your back lazily. Seven…eight…nine…ten… I slip away.
(23minutes, 802 words)
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.
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.
What is love?
What is love to a child who was never held when they cried?
What is love to an adult who was rejected when they unmasked?
What is love for a person who feels unlovable?
What is love for someone who owns the world?
💜❤️
What is love and why does it lift you up?
What is love and why does it break you down?
What is love and why does your heart skip a beat?
What is love and why do you play that song on repeat?
❤️💜
What is love and why does it hurt?
What is love and who offers it freely?
What is love and why is it so hard?
What is love? Who has an answer to this, really?
💜❤️
What is love?
Who is love?
It is that feeling floating between you and me. There but unseen. It is in us and oozes out of every pore. While we always want more. It is you and me and us and them. It is the air we breathe and the steps we take. It is the thoughts we think and the smiles we give. Love is all we need. It is you and me and us and them.
❤️💜
I LOVE YOU!
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The wave of sorrow is lapping at her feet, trying to get to her. What if she has an invisible expiration date written across her forehead?
A little bit of hope (753 words/14 minutes)
And while he was sitting on his bed letting his fingers feel the strings of his guitar, his thoughts wandered back to her. It irked him that she kept insisting that she was not in love with him. It had been ages since he had allowed a woman to get this close to him and he started to question his feelings for her now too. Was he falling in love? He couldn’t possibly allow that, could he? She was a friend, a confidant. She easily lent a nonjudgmental ear and whenever he hinted at his financial issues, she gave him money. That way, he had paid for many therapy sessions, for meds, and also for some cannabis, without ever asking for an explanation or anything. She complimented his art and encouraged him when he needed it; when he doubted his abilities or his sanity, but at the same time, she never nagged or demanded anything from him; apart from being there. And he had no qualms promising that he would be there; always. Because that was what he intended to do. He wanted to keep her in his life. She was the best that had happened to him in ages. And yet. He was confused and unsure. Somehow he needed her presence to have a good day. Without her, something was missing; someone was missing. He had tried to take a step back, but it was so hard. It agitated him, made him nervous to push her away; to think that he had to exist without her.
What if he lost her while protecting himself? What if she was just like his ex and couldn’t handle his rejection? What if? No. No, she was different. She had integrity. Everything she said proved to be trustworthy. She never said or promised things she couldn’t keep. And her intelligence was a turn on too. She was sexy and beautiful and in recent times, she was the only woman with the ability to get him aroused or turned on. There was no one else. When he woke up at night from a bad dream, she was there. When he couldn’t sleep, she was there. When he craved ice cream but couldn’t afford it, she was there. She was always there for him. Keeping her promise. It scared him. He let her get too close. He couldn’t handle it. Maybe if he pushed her away and maybe if he was not there for her – breaking his own promise; maybe then she would break and show her true face. Perhaps she would show that she was just like all the others, ready to hurt him as soon as he dropped them? But, no. He couldn’t imagine it from her. They had so much chemistry together; something all too real. He was afraid to be a failure or a disappointment in her eyes. He was afraid that she could leave his life. And he was not ready for that.
His fingers kept fiddling the strings of his guitar while he lay on his back in his bed. When had she become the last thought at night and the first thought in the morning? When had she become his every thought during the day? The realisation hit him hard, he could keep pretending that he was not the guy to see a relationship with her in the future, he could keep insisting that he did not daydream of breaking out of his life to leave and start anew with her; but it was all a lie. He wanted her. He needed her. But she had made it clear that she did not want him. She hadn’t said anything, but he was pretty sure it was because he had let down his guards. He had told her everything – almost everything about himself. He had made room in his heart for her. He was needy around her. He was honest and genuine and raw and emotional around her. He hated it, but she made him a better man. The next song he played was for her. She would never know, but it still appeased his mind.
Next to him, his phone lit up. “where are you? The day has been all wrong without you.”
It was her… Yes, the day had felt wrong and incomplete. He grinned, maybe she was pretending too. Maybe there was a chance for them in the future. There was a little bit of hope. It was all he needed for now. Just that little bit of hope.
familiar nightmare
That dream. Again. She had not had that dream in a long while, and it never failed to leave her unsettled, bothering on anxious. She was breathing heavily, fighting back the tears that were moist on he cheeks. Her eyes were still closed, trying to grab the remnants of the nightmare she had endured and turning them into something else. Something good. But to no avail. The harder she tried, the more her conscious mind took over, until finally, she was awake. Her eyes fluttered open, and she stared into the dark. The sweat was cooling on her skin. She shivered; as much from the vivid memories as from the cold.
She was at work, laughing with her colleagues, when her phone rang. She saw the number and smiled. Usually, she did not pick up when he called, and she was on a shift, but she was in such a good mood, she wanted to hear his voice and tell him that she would get in touch later. He would certainly understand; they hadn’t talked in two weeks, a couple of hours surely were bearable. But it was not his voice that greeted her; it was another man.
“is this Shelly speaking?” The man asked. His voice was slightly familiar, but she couldn’t place it. “Yes,” she replied “who’s this?” She was confused why a stranger was calling from her boyfr…- she didn’t even know how to label him, they weren’t a couple after all.
“it’s Vic, Dave’s brother.” Ah! That was why the voice sounded familiar. Curious, she left the small office to have a moment of quiet and to understand the man on the other line properly. “I’m afraid I have bad news,” he continued. “Dave passed away. He… He killed himself last night.” His voice broke, and her heart was racing too fast. It felt as if someone had put cotton in her head and it blocked a myriad of oncoming questions that washed over her like a tsunami. “What? How? Why? That cannot be.” She refused to believe the words he said. “He left letters for you, an entire box full. He also left a will in which you are mentioned, but we need to have it checked with our lawyers.” Vic sounded so pulled together as he continued to talk without listening to her. It was almost as if he was going through the motions of informing people about his brother’s passing on auto-pilot. “Could you send your address as a text message? I will make sure that you receive everything Dave wanted you to have.”
Shelly felt the colour draining from her face, and the force holding her upright was fading too. “Yeah, no. Will do. I am sorry for your loss”, she said and quickly disconnected the call. A wail left her mouth as she fell to the ground. Uncontrollable sobs shook her entire body, and she heard noises she couldn’t be sure came from her. But they had to; no one was around. She got up from the floor; she was trembling and gasping for air. It was too hot, and too cold. It was too much of everything. She needed to get outside. And she did. Her crying didn’t stop. How could he be gone? How could Dave be gone?
But there were no answers to that question because every time that dream tormented her, this was the moment she woke up. Every time. In reality, she had not talked to Dave in months, and she was pretty sure that no letters or other belongings were waiting for her, and she was most certainly not mentioned in his will either. Shelly pushed the bunched up sheets off her body and decided to distract herself by starting her day. But the bitter aftertaste of that all too familiar dream tinted her mood. She was not ready to let Dave go. And she couldn’t wash the suspicion that something terrible was about to happen to him off in the shower either.
✨✨✨✨
668 words, 20 minutes
Re-birth
And when she woke up from the deep slumber she had vanished to, her soul was shaking, and her body was trembling. Something was different. She was different. One look, one touch had unraveled her stoic self, and now she was a stranger. She did not recognize her reflection in the mirror. She did not understand her thoughts. Her voice was new to her ears. An unusual desire to be alive and present struck her like lightning in the sand. And her iridescent self shone brighter for everyone to see. One touch, one kiss, had turned the key and opened her cage. She was not hidden anymore. The veil that had protected her from curious eyes had been lifted. She took a deep breath and smiled. It had taken a while, but today she was grateful for yesterday’s memories.
❤️💜🤍🖤🤎💙💚💛🧡
Everytime it rains.
The thunderstorm made me think of you. I stepped out of my overheated living room and onto the warm patio. I saw the lightning in the distance. It took a moment before I heard the thunder. And I smiled. The first drops of rain hit my head, and I looked up at the sky. I spread my arms out to the sides. I felt every raindrop kiss me. And I smiled. I raised my hands, palms up, and let the rain soak me. If someone watched me, they might have mistaken me for a crazy woman. And maybe they are right. But I was also glowing from within. Burning with a fierce passion for life. And a yearning for the man I carry in my heart.
reflections of an unquiet mind 