These days

It may seem as if

I don’t laugh

Don’t listen to stories

And don’t want to talk

But the thing is

The only thing I really want

Is your presence 

And all roars of laughter, even the faintest smile

All stories 

Mean absolutely nothing at all

Because. . .

Well, you know, you will never be here with me 

A minor nuisance, love

There is this minor nuisance
They seem to call it love
It has likely fallen down around me
And is closing me in

It all started
With a second thought
A second glance
On your second glance
On everything you have embodied

They seem to be together
They seem to hold eachother
And guide eachother
And that exactly
Is what separates us from them

We have,
How do I put it,
We have become,
No, we have not become
But we have faded
Into nothing
Nothing but perhaps
Nothing, but maybe
But impossible

There is this minor nuisance
I used to think
They called it love
But it is just that you don’t know me
And none of the above

A dark poem

Cold spirit whispering softly to me ‘Listen to me carefully’
Cold spirit whispering softly to me ‘Leave this place come with me’

‘Cold spirit, I’ve got nothing to do with you’
‘Cold spirit I don’t got to be with you’

Cold spirit says a bit louder: ‘It’s not anything weird, it’s your broken self’
Cold spirit says a bit louder: ‘I just thought you needed help’

‘Cold spirit, I got all the help I need’
‘Cold spirit, there’s only One Voice I heed’

Cold spirit whispers: ‘Good, I’m leaving’
Cold spirit whispers in my ear ‘see you in the darkness dear’