It’s My Heart You’re Dealing With

daily prompt: love to love you

i’d love to say        i’ve been through this before
you’re bringing out the best in me        and i promised myself
but somehow         i never let anyone so near that
i’m my worst self today         my scarred, broken skin shows
                         and i turn into a joke
oh if you’d only seen me yesterday        because it hurt so much
when i was careless, strong and free       i promised i would heal
i felt like i was seventeen        and began again
but most of all        wiser
i felt awake        stronger
oh         had you seen me yesterday
you were my little secret        i danced in the fitting room
i didn’t dare to tell the world        how lucky i was
how grateful i were        if you’d seen the minidress i bought for you
how i owed you        if only i had told you
          i was borrowing you lovely glow
and claiming it as mine         would we be talking now?
and now you won’t answer        is it because we disagreed, last week?
you won’t call me back        i know i’m making it worse but
all this being awake        it’s already bad
becomes too much        and i don’t care
 i regret it         so if i said something wrong
 and my head spins, please        let me take it back
 and i feel cold and sick        because i will
hurt and i can’t think         i’m begging you
 one painful truth         please tell me this
won’t let me be       i know i can pull myself together
                           and go on, but it hurts
is this my fault, again?        and                
am i driving you off?        do i really have to?

To Let Myself Go

hello to everyone, who still finds the time to read my scattered ramblings in these days of heat and stress and overwhelming global creations.

i will have to force myself to be quite straight forward with today’s daily prompt. and as much as i’d love to put some good effort and time into this post (much like with yesterday’s prompt, which i eventually skipped heavy-heartedly, for lack of time and thinking capacity), there won’t be no picture or poem or song lyrics. oh well; maybe i’ll quote a song, at least.

when i was ten, i went to fourth grade – like most kids my age.
.                         at home, i had lego bricks lying on the carpet and between my pillows.
.                         i had kept my barbies, although all i did was sew dresses for them.
.                         i loved to draw, mostly because i had detailed ideas, ready to be put down.
.                         i never quite excelled at maths, but once i understood, it felt pretty doable.
.                         i studied french. i felt grateful that memorizing vocabulary was effortless.

when i was ten, i got asked what i wanted to become, once i grew up. in hindsight, i wonder why adults confronted kids my age with those kinds of questions. were the answers not entirely irrelevant, when i hadn’t even known secondary education?
can kids even know what they want to become?
when someone knelt down before me and asked, i stuck with the activities i enjoyed.
.                                                                                i’d wanted to be an architect.
.                                                                                i’d wanted to be a designer.

Where Not To Look For Freedom

daily prompt: singular

please help me understand
this wicked planet’s turning
to show my aching soul
which pasts won’t be restored
and what is lost, forever.

then maybe i might know
where not to look for freedom.

or please let me erase
the memories that made me
the person i am, now.
return my childish faith
where reason never mattered.

for once, i might not care
where not to look for freedom.

——————————————————–
posts are getting shorter by the day.
can’t help it. am very busy.

These Streets Are Yours

i had a dream       l       was it a dream?              i had a dream                   was it a dream?
you said to me     ll       you said to me                you said to me     l            you said to me
all is well              l        hello                       lll       nothing real          lllll         silently
you said                        you said                          you said                            you said

it was.                           like before.                      all the same.                     beware.

so i won’t show my face here, anymore.

daily prompt: earworm.

I Can’t See You, But I Know You’re There

    daily prompt: keep out.

one look could tell eyes closed
everything               you left me
we needed no words l  outside

oh but    of course you’re there
of course we did            oh but

each look told lies    l    blinded
nothing                 i could never
we dared to say         let you in

was true                 l      entirely

lll