• Poetry

    You’ll have bitterness left on your tongue whenever you mention me

    I’m swallowing dumplings, full of unspoken words, which persistently roast my throat while they’re slipping, waiting for you to look at me as prey. The urge in me and the stomach-turning tells me to vomit all the secrets on the table before you, for you to eat all the rest of me. You will love everything I can’t tell you, You will laugh at my obsolete thoughts in which only you are always constant news. You will fall in love with my taste, you will fall in love with yourself. You will welcome the way my emotions are crunching when you sink your teeth that are starting to crack because…

  • Poetry

    Did she know that I’m a word that can’t be pronounced?

    Yesterday I saw the reflection of my smile as I was cutting the wire between what I am and what she sees in me. I never wanted her to walk upon it with legs built of glass. That smile cut me, full of her pain. Already sufficiently diminished to match the size of my hand, my fingers overload her body, before my pride. Even I have a conscience, no matter how filthy it is. I felt that I became only a look, disappointing, destructive, merciless, penetrating through her shell, outgrowing what she gave me, letting go of what I couldn’t give her. I will always be a representative of realism,…

  • Poetry

    Paradox and enigma

    You are bound by restlessness. Scared of the unknown. Cheated by the truth. Pushed in the corner. Unknown to yourself. Toxic for others. Thrown into a vortex. Ready for the ending. You crawl and disappear. Consumed by reality. Not accepting it. Forced to see it. Driven with rage. You are bound by the need. Charmed by lies. Secondary role. The main initiator. A vicious circle and fire. A moment in the meantime. Erratic chaos. You as your own burden. Lost in the void. Overloaded by pressure. Haunted by the demons. Ejected into the interspace. Possibly someone’s. Never belonging to anyone. Nowhere achieved. Inevitably neglected. Wrongly guided. Used to yourself. Imprinted…

  • Poetry

    She took her pain in her hands, squeezing as never before

    As the candles began to burn, the body was ready to surrender. Waiting for the right moment, the last song started. In a well-known rhythm, with a well-known carmine, the body was ready to surrender. “What if this is just a test?“, she wondered while she was lying in the bathtub of cold water, feeling how it penetrates through the wrinkled skin, in the bones where she’s already buried. She holds a glass of red wine in her hand, while it’s gently slipping through her fingers. The water was getting darker, the candles burned so quickly… She also burned with them, her body was icy, tingles were crossing over her…

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