A Welcome Song

I reached down inside my husk of heart triying to feel that little bits of colorful stones. They crept in without me expecting of their advance, like a growing rose bush in summer; with thorns just to protect me from the vicious world. Slowly but constantly they grow into me blooming their soothing, hilarious, colorful scented blossoms. The knowledge of having them inside grants me the good feeling of hope: Of hope that my core would somehow someday no longer a weary husk.

I welcome you inside my little motley stones.... help me splash my little world with brighter hues.

Words can not portray the thousands corridors of my feelings. I told myself not to go back to the place anymore, but my feet rebell against my warnings. My mind drifts alone to the spots of recent past and wishful future without me noticing; leaving my body lying soulless on the ground. And when I am there to the full and entire extent, I am always greedily devouring every detail I can catch; celebrating every step, breath, heartbeat. I can not resist to play. Everytime it pleasantly abstracts me from my immediate reality.

I have trespassed the sphere of the goddess of the hunt and enjoyed the accompany of her deer. She is coming to hunt me down and expel me out of her land.

-

I have lived for today. I saved so many diamonds and pearls just for this very day. I have dreamt of today. I fastened my fairy tales with my most fanciful stitches. I have lived for this withered day and I ended it laughing at my murdered expectations.

Look at her swaying her hands towards the sky. Drooling looking at the first prize over the clouds stomping her feet like an undernourished horse I once saw on the street. Is she a disgrace to our kind? Or are we all capable of being that way in exasperation? But mother, she disgusts me.

Princess, why are you still weeping beside the pond? You won't get your golden ball back, if you don't go for it yourself. Never should you ponder to let a green slimy frog to help you. It doesn't really matter if it is actually an enchanted prince from a far away land. A frog is still going to be a frog and it is better for you to be able to stand on your own feet for the first time. Shake the trees and let your dress rip and your blood trickle out of your cuts. Trust me, Princess. In the end you will be a strong queen.

February Goodbyes

Floating over the ensheathed city I am looking for a little island to rest my wings. I was looking for the little tree, that once hugged my worries away. I was searching for the spring breeze, which had thrust my rocking boat gently through the storm. Their traces have faded before I could recount all of our reminiscences.
This blinded city of the south is deserted.

I am missing you.

My little hugging tree, gentle spring breeze, elfish sensible muse, purifying crystal water, pampering looking glass, smooth seashell, warming quartz sand.

hurting

As always, it's starting to hurt and there is nothing I can do to stop it. Dreams are not reality but I tend to tread on my dreams and hang on to the soft mist of the fantasy. Even when it is starting to hurt and I am forced to bruise myself because of the daily fall into the harsh concrete of reality; I am still coming back to that place. Over and over again.

At the Borderline

Like a chocolate fountain, melting caramel on a hot plate and a river of honey. Sweetness bursts into me without any halt; pulling the sides of my cheeks upwards.

I wonder if it is right to betray yourself and enjoy the exciting ride and perhaps take another daring one?

happy valentine

"So much for dreaming the man of my dreams!" She said that repeatedly with watery eyes. I looked at her hollow face. People told me how beautiful she was, how her light could brought morning dews glisten like droplets of the most exotic jewels. Now I can not even seem to trace the residue of her bedazzling characters; as if she had forsaken them somewhere amidst her rigorous sorrow."Perhaps it would've been better, if I hadn't found him." And she closed her door.

The Explorer

I am back to where I used to be. I should have known, I can not go too far. My rope is not long enough.
Perhaps, if I ask nicely for a longer one....

Salma

The muse chattered in my dim lit room last night
Her glowing long gown was a colorful shade of white
She chattered her songs with her silky voice
I looked in awe as she smiled at me
saying, "Be kind to yourself, dear."

In my dim lit room she danced around
sprinkling her golden dust into every corner
Her laughter chimed indistinctly inside my ears
Glowing colorful shade of white and gold dust filled every vacant hole

The muse chattered as I listened in awe
"Be kind to yourself, dear.
For I will not always be near."
In my dim lit room I heard her silky voice

Salma

Hail to the guardian of the tower of the south,
I invoke thee!
Come and take over this dried field of mine!
Resurrect thy power from within the soil I stand upon
for here I am bended and broken down
bleeding out my residue of love, passion, affection!

Hail to the guardian of the tower of the south,
I invoke thee!
For my fortress is no longer strong holding
the downpour of the molten red lava from my eyes.
This worn out heart can't save herself anymore,
soar right away into me!
Redeem me once again!
Reborn me!

worries

I'm back to where I used to be and am even going on further into this dark pit. I know what kind of torment is waiting for me there. But I am going on further still. I put my self at stake again just to find out, that it will never ever going to get better between us. Perhaps it is better for some time, but I know for sure, that I will have to rip my guts out all over again....just to create a distraction for myself and thus ease the heartache. I know I have to install my shield again and go away as far as the wind can take me, or that time will come.

my wreckage ship; one

It’s naturally not easy to find yourself down in the dumps. Especially if you know that there is not a big chance for you to crawl back up to where you used to stand. People say, if you want to make a change of your situation, you should just stand up and do it. They say it’s the problem of your mind. However, sometimes I find it more comfortable to stay here in my dumps after you just got punched a few times in your face. People are keep on crying out: “Go ahead and save your soul!” But they just don’t know and don’t care. What if I don’t want to be saved anymore? I am just tired of being accused of things I am not responsible of, or being told to do things I really don’t want to do, or to get stapled with packages of disappointments. So I would just sit here in my dumps and enjoy the process of my fading out. No one would ever notice, anyway.

"you might call him dull, but he smiled whenever he saw me and we could have built a life on it." an excerpt from the movie "Miss Pettigrew Lives For a Day".

A Schizophrenic State

Can someone tell me where my fairies go? I was so busy coping with life it didn't dawn on me instantly. The clamors of the city dimmed the tiny voices of my fairies. It was like being struck by a colossal lightning: I was finally aware of their absence. Where did they go? I used to have them with me all the time. They used to talk to me, encourage me, comfort me, accompany me. But now there is not a single trace of them and strangely, I can only vaguely recollect their faces. I swear they were there all the time. I could swear that.. Perhaps...

Where do my fairies go?

Trapped

Life can really get on your nerves sometimes. And when it does, you just want to bury your head deep in the sand, so that you won't have to get acquainted with all the ugly winged wearies from the pandora box. Just when you think all is going on well, you realize you're standing on a quicksand because you were too overwhelmed by your success. without compromise are you sinking into the sand. You just wanted to bury your head, but now you get the whole bonus treatment. All those success can't give you a hand and help you out. You end up alone being depressed and thinking how it's all gone wrong, collecting milestones of memories you piled on the corner trying to figure out why it went wrong. Perhaps you should let it all go. No more fights. Just let everything go and accept your situation whilst wondering why that stupid woman opened the forbidden chest on the first place.

A Plea

Spin your viscous web around me, so I can't see the outside world anymore. I want to stay inside your cage, just to make sure that I won't hurt myself anymore. I prefer to be blind than seeing how they wipe my memories away. I prefer to be deaf than hearing how they loathe my ways. I am one lonely dot amidst triangles; and no triangle likes a dot. So please take me in your asylum; spin your viscous web around me.

How Old is He Now?

The Fitting

Am I wrong to fit the world to my needs, so I wouldn't lose hope and just crow my fears in the most silent way? Eventhough I have never seen magic before nor felt its silvery clink, I am thrilled everytime knowing its thick existence in the world I have created for my own sake. A playful world filled with colorful magic creatures, sunlight, moonbeam, and tiny twinkling stars: all together at once, waiting for their turn to soothe and protect me from weariness and ailments. I can always retreat and find refugee with my well-chosen friends in my well-designed world. Anything to protect my soul. I fear the day when I would be totally normal like any adult. I dread their inability to recognize the beauty of a dust, the sweetness of raindrops or the melody of a bumblebee. I am fitting the world to my needs: with my collections of enchanted lace and ribbons.