Creative Writing

Nothing Kills

Nothing kills like the look on your face
Nothing kills me in one million ways
Nothing kills like the shape of your smile
Nothing kills like the truth in your lies

Nothing kills like your cold fingertips
Nothing kills like those knives from your lips
Nothing kills like your thoughts in my head
If nothing kills, then why am I dead?

Nothing dies
Like your eyes
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When the Lights go out

Several times today, I’ve thrown it all away. Like I don’t need you anymore. Like I don’t give a shit. I’m tired of waking up to the same mistake again. Day after day. Night after night.
I left you alone for a reason. Don’t ask me, I can’t tell you. But I know. Deep down inside even you must’ve known. Must’ve felt that it didn’t feel right. No one is that ignorant.
How many times did you pray to who’s above, who’s below?
How many questions did you ask?
How many answers did you get?
You give and give and all it does is take. Hide what’s left of you before someone comes to take it away. Not me. I’m done. Lights fade into blackness. I am your light. I was your light. Do you see me?
I’m gone…


Any thoughts you’d like to share?

Joy and Happiness

Who is this Joy? And why does she always hang around Happiness? They leave when I come and go someplace else. Far away. Out of sight. Out of mind. Out of reach. I want to embrace them but I guess they’re afraid to be touched by strangers. I can perfectly understand that.

Every day I see Beautiful. She never crosses my path. Doesn’t say “Hello”. Doesn’t even look at me. No more. Someone must have taught her not to talk to strangers. Anymore. The burnt child dreads the fire, they say. My candle burnt out long ago.

Sometimes I feel like another me. An alternate version: “Me 2.0”. Already released but still full of bugs. Wearing nothing on my sleeve, still giving everything away. A dead shell dangling from a hangman’s noose. No longer alive but not dead either. Trapped between pity and contempt. Cut me down. Bury me. I’d be better off wasted. I am fading…


Any thoughts you’d like to share?

My Love/My Lies

Stop it. Stop loving me. I cannot stand you looking into my eyes. Seeing – but not understanding the lies. Ignorant to the deceit. I know it’s unfair. I’m not too proud to admit it, I’m just too weak to care.

Sometimes it feels wrong to hold you. You won’t slip from my hand but the more you hold on, the further I’m drifting away.

I am nothing but a picture painted on a canvas. The colors vanish with time until only the lines remain. Lines that define my existence. I want to cut myself out of the canvas – but can I exist outside the frame? Can a hole be a picture?

Will the picture be whole again?
Can you repaint me?
Will you?
I’m afraid…


Any thoughts you’d like to share?

Seeing You/Leaving You

I see you and I leave you and that leaves me: empty; devoid of emotions. What I felt just minutes ago vanished. Like closing the door on a storm. Only that I enter an icy room.
The walls are covered with frozen images of beauty. Still, you seem to melt away. I try to stop you running down the walls but can feel you slipping through my fingers; unable to hold on to you, unable to stop you. Like I cannot stop us from parting.

I would like to hold you close, feel you, breathe you. Taste the tears on your lips when you cry.

You are happy – not with me.
You are sad – not for me.
I am sad-happy with you.
It hurts to see love go but it feels good to see a friend again.


Any thoughts you’d like to share?

Your Words/Your Letters

Yesterday I read your letters. Your words of love, hope, and future. They linger in my mind like stones on a beach; a stormy coast. Cold and heavy, yet beautiful in their own painful way. Are you still beautiful?

Your words felt like waves crashing on my shore. Mighty masses of water destroying everything in their way. Destroying me. Each time you retreat into the sea you wash parts of me away. How much will be left of me when the storm finally stills? How much will stay with you forever? Buried underneath the calm surface, sinking deeper and deeper into the depths of your soul until it finally settles at the bottom. Lost. Forgotten. Only to be discovered in the rare moments you dare diving into your memories.

Will I ever forget you?

Can I ever forget you?


Any thoughts you’d like to share?

Optimistic Pessimism/Pessimistic Optimism

The optimist is half alive. The pessimist hates to be breathing. People are nothing but emotions placed on either side of a scale. One more feeling to throw you off balance – both ways. A kiss on a heart in love; soft, warm, honest. Reach another level of happiness in a second and make it last a lifetime. The way we couldn’t keep our hearts beating in time. Yours was running ahead with our love while mine was leaping backwards – two steps at a time.

A shot through the heart can make you cross the line you drew for yourself. One step further into the arms of trepidation. Afraid that the light at the end of a long dark tunnel is nothing but a train coming your way. A freight train transporting all the shit that has been thrown at you. Packed in containers. Each of them given the name of a memory, an experience.

Mistakes are sealed in boxes we unpack from time to time: a reminder of where we went wrong in our lives; a warning to those we care about not to walk the same paths. Although sometimes we have to let them run, let them get burned by the flames, let them fall victim to the fires.

When the king becomes a beggar and the queen becomes a whore they are done for good – lost, desperate, destroyed, dead…inside. Still alive. Once I read a book saying losing everything is the ultimate freedom. It enables us to do anything though it never promised happiness. But still… Once we die we have to let go. Or do we have to let go to die? Is there optimism in dying?


Is there optimism in dying? What do you think?
Is your glass half full or half empty?

Under One Umbrella

One night and everything changed. Faces became names. Strangers became… what? Friends? Or are we nothing more than an experience, a memory that we share? Hardly worth remembering. Soon to be forgotten.
What seemed so simple during the day, turned to beauty at night. The simplicity I will see again. But what about the beauty? What about you? So close but still so far. Like an endless tunnel that becomes perpetually darker as the light fades.
It is raining and I can’t see anything but you. The drops, it seems, cannot touch you – just like me. There’s a wall around you. There’s a wall around me. I started deconstructing my protection just to have you blow up my inner defenses. You cracked open more than just my outer shell. More than you will ever know. More than I will ever admit.
I think you broke my heart…



You are happy



You feel blue



It’s old things that



Seem so new



You are dreaming



Dreams come true



There is dedication

And this one is to you

Good Enough for You ain’t Good Enough for You

I tried and failed. Then I tried and failed again. Useless. Speechless. Deaf and dumb. Words are forming on my tongue that won’t come out. I wanna tell you that I love you. I wanna show you how I feel. But then…what’s the point?
You’d look at me. You’d scream at me. You’d die a thousand deaths. And me? I cannot save you. I can’t even save myself. Still, I’m trying. I’m failing. Trying and failing. Dying. On the inside. I muster all my strength; all that is left after years of struggling through a stream of concrete.
I love you. Once that made you happy. Now it makes us cry. All the paths I take towards you are littered with the pieces of your broken heart. The one I cherished. The very one I promised to keep safe when you gave it to me on that night. When everything seemed perfect… too perfect. Now I see that the picture never fit the frame. The colors are smeared. By tears. By knowing that everything I did to make you happy made you cry. I never changed and yet I changed completely.
Everything that was good enough for you was never good enough for you.
Everything was me…

Stranger to Myself

Alone. In a City that I have been to several times…too often. A place I barely know but somehow feel attracted to; connected to. Like being in a foreign country you are pretty sure you have been to before. Like meeting a stranger you think you have known all your life.
People are passing me by. Perfect strangers. I am nothing more than a face among the others. I am nothing more than a face to you. Someone you have known forever but still don’t recognize.
Like me. Sometimes I look into the mirror and I can hardly make out the reflection staring back at me. Nothing more than a bunch of features I can’t place. Is this me? The lips that never smile. The eyes that never cry.
I think it’s gonna rain…


Explain to me the dust upon the memories
The reasons that our eyes refused to see
A ride on the highway at night
Where was life? Where was the light?

If we should ever meet again
Would you hold me then?
Console me when
I’m craving for my sanity
Oh, give me clarity
I need clarity
Oh, come clarity
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