Nenne mich nicht bei meinem Namen,
nenne mich so, wie du mich erinnerst –
als Wärme zwischen kalten Tagen,
als Stimme, bevor ich verstummte.

Let me make it up to you.
I have disappointed you,
humiliated and hurt you,
my apologies taste like silence now.

Ich sehe dich in meinem Spiegel,
doch mein Blick weicht aus.
Akzeptanz rinnt langsam,
wie Sand durch zitternde Finger.

I am you, I am me,
split in the middle,
half apology, half hope.
And I don’t know which half is mine.

Hilf mir, mich wieder zu lieben,
wenn auch nur ein wenig –
wenn auch nur für einen Moment,
in dem dein Blick mich wieder trägt.

Let me rebuild the bridge I burned,
step by step, breath by breath.
I’m tired of being a stranger
in my own chest.

Ich schreibe mich neu
mit tobender Hand.
Kein Held, kein Retter,
nur jemand, der wieder anfangen will.

Decisions over discussions,
Help me find solace in my ruthless mind.
Glasses blur. Windows reflect.
Order has been lost.
Hell has frozen over.
Shadows are lit.
Nothing is right—
My thoughts race backwards.

I just want a place with you,
In the eternal sunshine of your heart.
You have cool hands.
Don’t make me change. I don’t want to.
Coastlines have cliffs and beaches—
But I am the wave,
Crashing again and again,
Never reaching.

Hold out your hand for me.
Let me grip it.
Trust me not to pull you down.
But you shake your head
As I drown,
The weight in my heart
Defies my kicking limbs.
Fireflies light up my face in the wild woods.
Streams run down my cheeks.
Lungs tear in half—
I am forced to stop.
Forced to stop running:
From you.
From me.
From my life.
From my mind.

Practice over skill,
But I am too tired to care.
Too tired to try.
Frozen at the edge of the bed.
Sweat saturates the sheets.
Vivid dreams
Rip me back to you.

I just want a place with you.

Streaks of sunlight make your eyes ever so blue,
Like oceans lit by morning’s grace.
I wish I had eyes like that—
Eyes that can capture,
And never let them drift laway.
They hold me still,
Right where you want me.

I’m falling—
Uncertain, unconscious,
No map, no anchor,
No promise that the chute will open.
But still, I fall.
I fall for you.
And somehow, that fall feels like flying.

Help me find solace in the storm.
Be the calm when the thunder grows close.
Shelter me when the rain won’t stop—
When skies crack open and shadows swell.
Just stare out with me into the grey,
And hold me like you'll never let me go.

If I break, let it be in your arms.
If I fade, let me fade beside you.
And if I soar—
Let it be because you believed I could.

I sit for hours.
My coffee cools into silence.
Eyes heavy.
Stomach knots.

I ache for comfort—
Can you give it?
You were the best thing to happen to me.
So why must I ruin it?

Speak to me in riddles.
Keep me guessing.
Make me wait.
Make me beg.
I am truly yours—
And you don’t even know.

"Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same."
I whispered Brontë like a secret.
Maybe hoping you'd hear it
In the space between my words.

You are too good
Too pure
I get lost in the worry of not being good for you
Don't let me pollute you.

You smile at me
Like the sun caught in a window.
I try not to stare too long.
I try not to hope too hard.
The fear of getting lost hangs in the air.

Every look you give me
Feels like a maybe.
Every silence
Feels like a no.

I love the waiting—
The little moments,
The crumbs of you
That I gather like gold.

But it hurts.
Not knowing.
Balancing between “maybe he does”
And “maybe he never will.”

Still, I stay.
Eyes heavy.
Coffee cold.
Heart full,
And aching.

You're pretentious.
You keep a Che Guevara poster in your room
and colour-coordinate everything.
Your room is like a vomiting rainbow.

I hate rainbows—
their brightness, and what they stand for.
Hope and happiness
are almost as pretentious as you.

I’ve moved on.
I don’t think about what your shampoo smelled like,
Or what your opinions on my actions would be.
I’ll forget about you.
I will.

We were always so different—it wouldn’t have worked.
But when you said you liked me, I believed you.
My deep emotions scared you off...
Could you not handle them?
Handle me?

You said I was intense—
Like that was a bad thing.
Like feeling deeply
was some kind of flaw,
instead of proof
that I actually cared.

Ahh, to care,
what a horrible thing to be fought up in.
Wouldn't life be so much easier if it all bounced off my shoulder?
If I could look at you and not get that terrible knot in my stomach,
always longing for you to come back into my life.

You made me feel
like too much and not enough
at the same time.
And now—
I second-guess every action I take,
every emotion I show.

I still replay it sometimes—
The look in your eyes when it was just us two,
How you could never hold my eye,
The way your fingers traced my hair...


But I’m learning to let go.
Not all memories are meant to be lived in.
And loving you
doesn’t mean I have to stay hurt.

Nature's power runs raw,
Heat and sweat saturates the skin,
Heart heaves, muscles cramp,
A rapid beat fills my ears, drowning out the world.
Dust and sand swirl,
Cracks and snaps scream through the air.
Trees crash, falling left and right-
A storm rages in the Outback.
Push further and further,
Help me, just help me escape.
The wind howls like a hungry beast,
Tearing at my skin, threatening to swallow me whole.
I am no more than a whisper in its fury.
The ground trembles under my feet,
Shifting as though the world itself is alive,
Swallowing everything in its path,
I am but a droplet, lost in its jaws.
It doesn't care.
It moves, crushes, it devours,
I've been caught up in its endless rage.
A leaf lost in a violent flood.

Drown me.
Tie a weight to my ankle—
make me claw for breath,
for I am always gasping.

I drown in my thoughts,
in my room,
in the silence that screams back.
Frustration gnaws at the edges of me.

Give me a fairy princess
with three wishes.
I’d wish for contentment,
for solitude,
maybe love.

Love—
what a strange concept.
To seek it is to spiral
through glass walls
and unanswered texts,
through the echo of being too much,
or not enough.

I want to be loved.
Is that so hard?
Is it possible?
Am I that difficult?

Possibilities and difficulties
are the seams of my skin.
An easy life?
How dull.
How dreadfully monotone.
I crave the spiral,
the chaos,
the nightly existential cross-examinations.

Perhaps I’ll find happiness.
Perhaps I won’t.

Drag me under.
Let me gasp for breath.

For I wish to be your pawn
in your well-worn game of chess—
a match you’ve played countless times,
where you already know the ending.
Checkmate me.

Play me.