Tag: schrijven

‘that boy from school’

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I always sat at the back of the classroom, so I could see everybody around me. He didn’t. He ran into the classroom every morning and took a seat at the front, usually the last empty seat. I saw it all happening, day after day. Some days he didn’t show up, but it was usually me who caused the empty seat. I didn’t spend much time at school. I had always been busy playing outside with the demons in my head. I’d rather search for something that would fill this hole within me. I stayed up late and woke early. I would take the bus home and beyond, I wandered streets of cities where I shouldn’t have been. He didn’t know, but he found out. He wondered where I had been, why I cut my hair and where my sister went. He asked me if I had ever regretted the choices I made, but I never did. Life was an endless ride of more and dangerous adventures. Try to live a little. Don’t show up late but don’t show up at all. Go for it, I know you’d be good at it.

‘that boy from school’ made me realize I wasn’t mad, just madly and awfully honest.

We tried

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I had realized that you didn’t want to be with me. I had realized that we wouldn’t see each other ever away. But for you to stab me in the back like that, I didn’t realized how cruel you were. I guess you haven’t healed in any way. You made the same mistakes over and over again to push people away who tried to love you.

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.

againagainagain

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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

every time I say your name

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‘stop before it is too late’
‘you aren’t in love’
‘we will never be together’
‘stop before it is too late’

As I try to bite my tears away I can taste the blood of my bottom lip, and I wash it away with alcohol. I have piles of empty winebottles at my backdoor, the door which isn’t locked anymore, because I’m still waiting for you to come back. My head is aching from the hangover, and all of the ones before. I thought it would help me forget your name, but I ended up forgetting mine first. My fingers have bruised from all of the writing, I still send you letters, but you stopped replying, you never did. I have nothing left of you, but every time I stare at the stars they call out your name. I see you everywhere I go, I can’t help but to look for you. Like a lost child desperate for his mother I look around me but nobody can bring me home again. I never felt home before I laid my head on your chest. I can still recall the way your heart beats like it was mine. But it never was mine. And that is why it hurts so bad. It hurts like raw cotton on burned skin. It is unbearable to think that I’ll never see you again. You were like early dandelions in the wintercold. You were brave and you we’re so strong. I has been an absolute privilege to walk by your side for a moment. A moment in which I finally felt warmth in my lungs again. But now it has blackened and I can’t breathe anymore. I cough up the ashes every time I say your name.

‘stop before it is too late’
‘she won’t hear you’
‘she never cared, she doesn’t need you’

 

Incomplete

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I feel incomplete, I keep on looking for answers. I feel indecisive, my mind is going round and round and never stops. I feel hesitant and doubtful, I can’t seem to be determined. I feel anxious, I’m scared and everything creeps upon me. I am missing protection, I miss a certain kind of warm safety. I know what is missing. It is joy. It is happiness. But mostly, fulfillment.