personal, poetry, thoughts


A memory in my head like a song on repeat
Contagious and humming to a certain beat
The one of our hearts hiding in the night
The one of the hidden glances in the light.
Haunted by the ghost of you
It is hard  to focus, no self-control
For months before something lacking
Then you appeared and I was whole. Continue reading “Haunted”

food, thoughts

Your Absence


I don’t know what hurts more, your silence or your words. When you speak, every word gets carved in my skin like an eternal tattoo, only to pierce its way to my poor, wounded heart. When you don’t, the quiet speaks for itself. It creeps up my veins and gives me long, icy, convulsive shivers. So I just shudder.

I don’t know when I miss you more, when we speak or when we don’t. When we do, it is just as trying to melt the whole of Antarctica with a single remark. Like a vowel could melt the ices that have somehow managed to encroach between us. Like a sound could keep us company in the long and lonely nights when the hours seem to extend to eternity. When we don’t, the nights are long and lonely anyway. Filled with wonder if the other one is still awake as well. What are you thinking about? Who is on your mind? Do you ever dream of me? Am I missed? Continue reading “Your Absence”

inspirational, quotes

Strange Little Girl

“There are a hundred things she has tried to chase away the things she won’t remember and that she can’t even let herself think about because that’s when the birds scream and the worms crawl and somewhere in her mind it’s always raining a slow and endless drizzle.

You will hear that she has left the country, that there was a gift she wanted you to have, but it is lost before it reaches you. Late one night the telephone will sign, and a voice that might be hers will say something that you cannot interpret before the connection crackles and is broken.

Several years later, from a taxi, you will see someone in a doorway who looks like her, but she will be gone by the time you persuade the driver to stop. You will never see her again.

Whenever it rains you will think of her. ”

Neil Gaiman, Strange Days