• Prose

    We are friends, you say

    We are friends, you say, as I lean my head on your shoulder and you hug me stronger. If I ever try to come closer to you, I know you won’t turn me down, because friends don’t do that, right? But maybe I’ll start wanting more, wanting more from you. It’s funny, we both know it’s forbidden, but we feel freer than ever. “We’re just friends,” you say. But you have that look and you unconsciously raise your eyebrow when you have something else to say, yet you choose to smile and play with my hair because it’s easier than the truth. I do the same thing, I shake my…

  • Prose

    There are two people left in the pictures, turned into a memory

    Material things don’t matter, do they? However, there’s an obvious thread that connects them with emotions, with memories awakened inside two people which are no longer one being. When they grow apart and everyone goes their own way, although the paths are unfamiliar, they leave and what’s left behind are the remains of all those little things that once seemed to be irrelevant, but they’ll never look so small again. The remains of worn out, shredded T-shirts when they made breakfast together, with a smell of a long-standing perfume combined with a scent of chocolate and a stain of wine when they celebrated an anniversary on the bedroom floor where…

  • Poetry

    I could fly over the entire world crashing with my wings at people

    Through all limitations and restrictions, like a bird with a ring around my neck, somewhat insidious, it seems, I flew through the gates of the pupils of people without eyes, recording every place I went to, carrying metal wires around my thighs. I took pictures with my eyes, of every moment that was a little more special than the previous one, and I found out that I could fly over the entire world crashing with my wings at people and barriers just to lure them into my lap. But, another discovery, another barrier in front of me, last stop, last place, pleasant to the lenses of my eyes. A place…

  • Self-knowledge through words

    I’m not defined by what I said, but by what I did to prove myself

    My character isn’t determined by my past, nor by labels that you pin on me so easily. I’m not defined by what I said, but by what I did to prove myself. Only I can define me. I overcame and survived all your punches, all your attacks, passed the tests and went through all of that until the point when I could say with certainty that I’m proud of that person within me, of everything that she has done to drain the last drop of strength to survive and stay alive. On my feet, steady. Alone. I myself accomplished my achievements. I myself have overcome every obstacle. I had to…

  • 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…

  • Abyss of thoughts

    I pretend for a moment that there is no insensibility around me

    I pretend for a moment that there is no insensibility around me. I pretend that is so wonderful to wake up and look through the window. I’m thinking about the relativity of that same happiness and I realize that I can only rely on my own. Nobody else will hand me over happiness. Behind that, there’s always some hidden intention, unfortunately, so today I say that it doesn’t exist, that there’s honesty in everyone and everything. I pretend that this world is full of love and that there’s something worth living, that there’s no unnecessary hatred and unreasonable condemnation. We all deserve to be loved the way we are, and…

  • Poetry

    Have you come for work or pleasure?

    Have you come for work or pleasure? It’s always the first for you, your job to swallow the men and spit them out. Satisfaction comes after, it’s in you, it feeds you and boosts your ego. And you wouldn’t choose any other way. I trembled to knock on your door, random kisses, intentional laughs and the random hotel sex that followed, how you intentionally pulled me into the hotel bar and said “Are you for whiskey?” You know I don’t refuse whiskey, and you even less, wearing mesh stockings. Now I paint your hands on bullets, I polish the trigger. (I’m not the one you love, am I?) I collected…

  • Poetry

    You deserve to be loved

    You’re a collection, love. Of the most beautiful masterpieces, from broken bones and scars under the skin, from suffering and reality; From the truth lurking in the depths of your sad smile, you’re the happiness finding its way through struggles and sorrows, through broken hearts and pain, through indifference and worthlessness, like sunlight shining through the clouds. You’re a collection, love. From teary eyes all night long and visible traces of battles on your hands, days spent inside four walls, running away from daylight. You will ask yourself over and over again, what the bloody layers on the skin are for, what exactly are they talking about and what’s their…

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