Tag: poetry

16th of March

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It is eight in the morning. I sit here at the dining table with fresh made cappuccino. I can hear a simple piano song playing from my computer. And at the corner of my eye the sun peeks from behind the clouds. The whole room is slowly starting to fill itself with sunlight. I can feel the warmth on the back of my black dress. I take another sip from my coffee. I can’t help but smile. It took me some time but I can finally say that I’m over you. You may live in the ruins of my dream. But when I wake up, I am going to start living for myself again.

And when somebody asks how I’m doing, I’ll answer again. You decided we could better be on our own and I can see that now. We have learned and we have lost, but I don’t need you anymore. You didn’t need me anymore. 

I don’t know if you still read my blog, but I’m doing fine.

I was told – pt 2

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We all know the empty space left in our beds feels like a black hole. But maybe there are galaxies on the other side, and maybe you will find peace with the fact that she left if you roll over. What if she wanted you to have more space to be free and to expand your dreamworld. If anything she never wanted you to feel like this. You were good enough and you deserve to be happy. Stop beating yourself up for all the little things that you might have done wrong, or all the words that you never said to her. You cant blame yourself for her decision, even when she admits to be wrong. I was told to never chase a girl, so you should let her run. Try to accept that she will not come back to you, and no nothing will ever be the same. And frozen days will be harsh without her presence in the cold wintermornings, and even this spring you’ll realize that you are still a bit lost. But time will pass and lonely mornings will end and this summer you will learn to be free again. I was told to always fight for love. Dont fight for a runner, fight for keeper. Fight for loving yourself again.

He showed me love

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I was back. I came back to be the person I wanted to be. And you were waiting for me like nothing had happened. We had drifted apart and clutched onto each other, but it was never harsh. We had never spoke, we had never blamed each other for leaving.

After I came back you still drank red wine, while I was still drinking white wine. We laughed and acknowledged the silence. I couldn’t find you house because it didn’t feel like home to me. I knew where I belonged. You held me in your arms and you touched me like the day that we first met.

We sat in the first winter cold and I dangled my shoes back and forth. You stared at yourself in the reflection of the backdoor. Your friends asked you about my presence, but you denied. You denied because we weren’t different with or without each other. We would always drink from our own bottle and come back to sit in the winter cold.

blondie pt 2.

Show me love

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It has been one year since I got a taste of your lips. We couldn’t stop looking at each other. We watched each other live and we lived side by side. It was exiting, new and oh so silent. It didn’t surprise me that we never spoke again.

But when I think about last summer, we actually never spoke. It was love and lust, we didn’t have to speak. I watched as you lit one cigarette after another and you watched me sip from my coffee. It was beautiful. It was the kind of love in which you didn’t have to lose yourself.

And until this day I sometimes see you passing in the hallways. We barely take the effort to greet each other. But we still don’t have to. We barely speak. But I know that you’ll always have a weak spot for me. A spot in which you show me love again and I’ll watch you smoke, and we’ll get coffee, and silently watch another year pass by.

blondie pt 1.

againagainagain

Josephine1 Comment

days are a long stretch of
giving in and giving up
and we keep staring into
our phone trying to find
someone that will speak to us

someone who will admit that
you have the right
to feel like the entire world
is trying to drag you down
into the cold graves

someone that will listen
to all our your stories
and respond with something
more meaningful then
the tiring usual ‘okay’

someone that will brighten
your regular rainy days
and convince you about
the fact that lighting
and thunder aren’t deadly

someone that will hold
the entire universe
between their lips
and hands you a taste
of toxic disbelief

someone that will be a
person on its very own
with an pedestal
and degrade every single
one before their presence

someone that will teach
you that love might not
always be lasting and that
you should stop reading
and writing about fairytales

and we will do it
again and again and again
until we are courageous
enough to finally live
and listen to ourselves

YOU DIDN’T

JosephineLeave a comment

HAVE TO BE SO FUCKING MEAN.

‘WHY CAN’T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT I HAD FEELINGS FOR YOU’

BUT I KNOW THAT YOU UNDERSTAND THAT,

IT IS JUST THAT YOU DON’T WANT TO KNOW IT.

YOU DON’T WANT TO BE THE ONE TO BLAME,

THAT I MIGHT BE HURTING.

AND YOU DON’T HAVE TO BE,

BUT YOU MAY NEVER EVER BLAME ME

THAT I STILL WRITE ABOUT YOU.

 

If a writer falls in love with you, you can never die – Mik Everett