Are you afraid?

You’re right, 

Life is short

The future is uncertain. 

You know exactly what you want now.

We want things to happen the way we want them, but we cant. 

And I’m scared. 

I’m scared things wont happen.

Because an approval wasnt granted from both parties. 

Because the government stalls or finds a hole to bury our dream in. 

Because we’re not good enough according to our mamas.

Because of fucking high standards that we dont even give a shit about.

Because my life is shorter than we’d expected.

Because someone loses patience.. and -I’d rather not even finish this sentence. 

Because what “we were meant to be” actually referred to was anything but that step. 
But.. I don’t have a better solution than to wait. 

And I cannot go through another battle that is harsher than the situation we’re already in.

I can barely battle distance right now.

I dont have the mental strength to battle family, us, hope, and the chance for that dream to shatter so slowly in front of me. 

And I am terrified. 

I am worried.

All I want is for everything to go as we want them, 

Before it’s too much for you that it all becomes not worth the trouble. 

And I just want to remind you, 

My sweet Demon;

I have always loved you. 

And I will always love you 

in this life, 

the afterlife,

and in all the known 

and unknown dimensions.

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Don’t stop whispering. 

I definitely did not want you to stop.

I wanted you to whisper in my ear everything that you would have done if only we were a breath away.

And I definitely did not want to make it obvious for those sitting around me, as you drew dirty images in my mind,

But it was either that or the following Moan would have exposed both of us. 

Sometimes I need to show some gratitude to Love and Experiences. 

She would look into the direction of his neighborhood, as she drove past it, feeling 

Sad. Or at least that “ah, yeah that one from that time”… and rather than feeling indifferent, being sad for a bit was the better option. I think.

I don’t know. It was some kind of internal theatrical conflict to give the years she was with him a bit of value, out of respect for Love.

The lie is the truth.

A smack…

on the face. 

The realisation

of an existing love

that you should have abandoned.

The realisation is like

A smack…

on the face.

You bury your face under your hood,

trying to escape that information;

It’s not true.

You don’t love him anymore. That’s the truth.

That’s the truth.

The kind of truth that tenses your jaw muscles.

The kind of truth that forces you to remind yourself every morning.

The kind of truth that leaves you hanging.

The kind of truth that smacks you with a lie.

The lie that you still love him.

Smack.

Smack.

Smack.

Stop.

So what?

So what if the lie is the ultimate truth?

So what?

You can’t do anything about it.

But you can tell yourself a different truth,

and live on,

until the lie becomes the ultimate lie.

That’s what you can do.

Right?

Half of the bed.

Half of the bed,

Filled with words 

And the minds 

Of other beings

But the one 

I yearn for.

I call your name,

And they answer instantly.

Satisfied, I am.

But it takes

More than ten minds

To compensate 

The body of yours.

I think of 

Disposing my shelves

And use the other half

As shelter 

For my beloved books

To seal up the hole

You might have made.

I’ll pile them up. 

And I’ll hold them tight.

And fall asleep

Within your embrace.

I mean their embrace. 

Satisfied, I try to be.