• 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…

  • Poetry

    The Wind

    I will disappear with the wind, one day. I’ll become the wind in the late evening. I will be a part of untouched freedom, I will become that same freedom; I will allow its freedom to free me. One day I will disappear, I will leave numerous traces, on evening walks; in the early mornings, I will become the most beautiful part of the summer. I will also learn to fly, between strands of hair, I will consider them a challenge. I will wear different perfumes, I will enhance and destroy many moments in the remaining lives. I will become a wind someday; I will disappear with it, I’ll be…

  • Prose

    The Ecstasy

    The state in which the experience of supernatural enthusiasm dominates, the feeling of endless joy, the highest level of excitement in which a person appears to be leaving the body, loses consciousness and merges with the absolute. Ecstasy as a paranormal game where we find ourselves in the darkest places. We love darkness, but we search for a bright spot, seeking enlightenment. However, there’s a black hole, just between today and tomorrow, between the past and the more distant one. Between current and fundamental emotions. A black hole, timeless levitation, the state in which we fall unconsciously, subconsciously seeking it. Life becomes an intoxicant as if ecstasy acts on the…

  • Poetry

    The shadow of a significant man

    I watched Death, on the side, admiring her, but I never dared to approach her. She seemed so untouchable, so intact and innocent. And then I felt her, so imminent; the bone cavity persistently echoed her name. I could smell her skin. That smell was impossible to ignore. She took me with her, with her thoughts and inside them. I stared at her for hours. It fascinated me. She stood in front of me. I was trembling and swallowing dumplings full of sin and remorse. A cold sweat came over me, emotions evoked the explosion in the eyes. I wanted to dance with her so badly, one last dance. I…

  • Prose

    Bare to the core

    She believes that violence over the existence and perseverance in every emotion somehow needs to be continually earned- even to be deserved. She enjoyed her ability to take away his metaphorical inner extremities with ease. Feeling complete fulfilled her, in a way only he could identify with. He grabbed her hair and tied it with barbed wire of lust and longing. Black under her eyes and smeared cherry-colored lipstick. He injected her with pain. She watched him bend from the unbearable bone pain, watching how she relentlessly struggles to show him how he drains her blood and sweetens himself. Is that so? She knew she was bitter and poisonous, but…

  • Prose

    It’s good that I’m silent

    It’s good as long as I exist, as long I don’t talk about it, while you’re trying to guess. I don’t want you to know what’s hidden in my voice. I don’t want you to feel what’s flowing through my veins as you fight with me to open up and surrender to you. It’s good as long as I don’t give up. You will be swallowed by the chaos that’s in me if it tastes you. The claws of my hopelessness will grab you, and you don’t deserve that. It’s good as long as I don’t allow them and keep protecting you. But you must never know, that’s why I’m…

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