The reality of my being

I wish I was so weak that I could allow myself to break into pieces. I wish I could allow myself to feel, really feel what it means to live with a broken heart. I would cry, I would scream and then it would be over. It is just a moment. But I have no
strength left; I don’t have the power to express my inner pain.

Even by saying scream, cry, the voice of my soul gently whispers to me: You have already done that, that is why you cannot repeat this event, make it be a second reality. Your inner dreams sound is a constant scream and the tears are made of blood,tear drops that explode and disappear in black holes.

Feelings become memories when they are expressed. I can only dare to express love. That is the only kind of memories I want to be responsible for. This is what I am

I am love anything else would be against my nature. I will not destroy myself. I will not become someone else. Someone that I don’t know . . .

Can you snuff out the light?

You still try to burn me
with the fire of love

But this self-destructive
self-consuming fire is burning
out our love memories

. . . and we stand naked

Our past intentions are like
the burned out candle rope

Everything happens for a reason
and this candle rope served its
purpose

The reason of our loneliness,
our vagaries, are, the unspoken
mystery of our broken hearts

Nothing to mend but something
to live with, the infinite strength of
the eternal soul exists in every cell
of my body. Those memories can
never be stupefied. – Live and Let die -
That is the wisdom of the myriad centuries.
Momentarily stymied, indeed, but that is
the absolute knowledge of evolution.

It has always been that way . . .

Love for life is always the Answer.

If the shoe doesn’t fit . . . Hurl it!

. . . and walk barefoot towards unknown destinations . . .




What good will it do
When everything is overdue
Well. Don’t overthink, is a good advice
You don’t have to say it twice

Yesterday night Morpheus took me in his arms
fairies sang me a lullaby and in the morning; Death
opened my eyelids with his middle finger, woke me up
singing: “Wham! Wake me up before you go go”
Are you flipping kidding me!? I muttered to myself angstfully
and yawned, hugged my pillow and snorted, the alarm clock rang

The sun is visibly shining today
Gray clouds tattered and swift
and I am still breathing so make another wish
The everyday struggle has barely began