‘Take it easy little girl, wipe your tears away’
‘Take it slowly, don’t pressure yourself that much’
‘I think you should do that tomorrow, it will be a brand new day’
‘You there, don’t be so upset and stop blaming yourself for everything’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll come and pick you up’
‘Just stay calm okay’

There might be a thousand ways to love you. But the way that you held my hand whilst walking down the street, that is how I loved you. You were fucking there for me and you were tender as cherrytrees. You were wise and I adored you for being smart and thoughtful. I loved the way that you caressed my golden hair and stroked your hand upon my cheek. I thought that you would make me a better person.

You always told me to stay calm, and so I did. I patiently waited for you to come home, but it’s taking you so long. I waited for you to return my letters and I ended up blaming the mailman. I waited for you to explain to me what was happening and you left me in great confusion. I waited on you, like the calm before the storm. I waited for you to come pick me up, but you never came.

I waited for you to come pick me up, but you never came. I stayed calm, you taught me that. I stayed calm, serene, silent, dying actually, waiting for you to come pick me up.



I was told – pt 2

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

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

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.


I thought that it would be ‘fine’, or at least ‘okay’, but it wasn’t ‘fine’ nor ‘okay’, it was fucking terrible. It was this aching and persistent pain which I couldn’t get a hold of. It was the kind of heart break that leaves you wondering.. why why why why. And you’ll never get an honest answer so you begin blaming yourself. And when you begin blaming yourself you’re starting to realize that it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t my fault that she decided to leave. I was never the one to blame for the fact that we’re not speaking to each other anymore. I tried, I tried my best to make things work. I tried to give her space, I respected her feelings and her fears. But what I didn’t respect was the fact that I was never given a chance. She knew. She knew after all that it wouldn’t last longer than three weeks. Because she would give up and walk away. She would do anything to protect herself from being hurt again. She would rather keep her guards than to accept my love for her. Because I had so many stories about the stars in her eyes, but they dimmed on a cloudy evening. Because I had so many things I wanted to show her, but now I look for her in every crowded room. Because I had so many words I wanted to give to her, and now I spill them like red wine on a tablecloth.

I won’t

I won’t tell you what I want to tell you. I won’t tell how I feel. I won’t tell you how to fucking live your life. I won’t tell you that you aren’t taking every chance. I won’t tell you that you are letting fear rule you. I won’t tell you that you that fear of commitment isn’t a real thing. I won’t tell you that it is actually fear of letting go, or being left. I won’t tell you that I’ll never fucking break your heart. I won’t have to, you never let me in. I won’t tell you that you can trust me, you won’t tell me anything. I won’t tell you that I know shit better. I won’t tell you that because I’m three years younger than you. I won’t be the one to tell you that you’re absolutely deadly gorgeous. I won’t scare the shit out of you. I won’t be the one to be there for you, even if you decide to need me. I won’t fucking wait around for you to change your mind. I won’t hold you at night when you are feeling lonely. I won’t tell you that there is more to life than smoking and drinking. I won’t tell you I think you’re lying. I won’t tell you you’re a fucking liar. I won’t tell you that you should have told the truth. I won’t be your girl. I won’t be the one to tell you everything you need to hear. I won’t be the one to help you. I won’t be the one to make you better. I won’t be the one that will love you forever. I won’t be the one. I will not



I’d like to say that it is nothing. But I can feel this vapor layer in de ridges of my eyes. The feeling aches within my hollow chest. Seconds pass without blinking, more seconds pass without breathing. I stare silently into this maze of unraveling emotions. This grieving nostalgic feeling hangs between my ribs and with every breath it sets itself free. It has the utmost power to break the joy of my face.

I have known home and I have known what commitment means. But after all these years I have lost this knowledge of fulfillment.

I realized how my eyes filled themselves with tears.
You can’t fight something you have always known.
You can only decide how much they desolate you.