I can’t speak a word with you
because I know you see right through.
That is why for some assistance
this poem is brought into existence.

The lines I am trying to compose
could never even get quite close.
And with every word that’s being add
what is written sounds like someone’s mad.

It’s the hardest topic to address
My devotion to you is so hard to express.
The pile of verses in my head -
anything that could be said,
I could write a whole essay
which would only push you further away.
(weiterlesen …)

I hate you so much
that I’d love to punch you
in your pretty face.
I love you so much
I hate we’re not together.
I know by now
everything is lost -
you are spoken for -
given away to someone unknown.
But at night I still think about you
with salty eyes.
I can’t forget
how much you mean to me
and I feel the grief inside me everyday.
I wish we could meet and forget what was.
I wish I could hurt you
so you can feel my everlasting pain
my endless love and hate for you.

The words go lost in our discussions
the meaning – unseen, hidden behind fears.
Sticking needles in my flesh
every time we argue.
Why we lose our temper,
and tease each other to insanity
is a mystery and simplicity.
Covered up in all my arguments
lies the truth that separates us.
An unknown question -
noone dares to phrase,
for the answer would have consequences.
The nameless bond that exists between us
might just shatter.
Though the answer is “just” love
and has always been – “just” love
love in all its varieties.

This is not me telling you what to do
because who am I to do so?
This is not me chumming up with you
I just open up my heart.
This is me showing my affection,
telling you how much I care.
Don’t ever get confused in all those words
since they actually all mean the same.
Take good care – remember me
and I promise: I will do the same.

Here I am in an awkward position
I only hope you will believe and understand me

I promised to you I would not betray you
but I needed to do the insane to refind my sanity

In my eyes it’s not betrayal
our relationship was betrayal to myself.

You would say it’s wrong
and if I listened to reason I had to agree.

But how can I say something is wrong -
If I don’t feel anything for anyone?
What if I can’t tell the difference?

It’s not right – I know as much
I lost my way and for that I hate myself.

I just tried to find the parts that I lost
to be whole again for you and you alone

Now I know the emptiness inside me
has got nothing to do with you.

And I wish I could undo the things that I’ve done
but without them I still wouldn’t know where I stand

My heart is empty
no sign of an end ahead.

If you must hate me for all this
then I lost you without intend.

I’m so sorry that this happened
to disappoint you wasn’t my intention
but if you go – I wish you best of luck

Though at least I can now look for reasons somewhere else -
if you still want me – that is.

The words of poetry are wasted
unheard trailing away into the void.
Like a preacher without an audience
the meaning of the words dies
with the last echo of sound.
Nobody will remember
the meaning of the words
and the story behind them.
The quill scribed the poet’s blood
into paper white as snow.
But who will know when it’s all over -
who will recall their existence -
that these words went out to you.
Readers here and everywhere
you don’t need to remember my story -
Please just don’t make the same mistakes
and learn your lesson from the past.
My wish to be understood
is not about to be fulfilled.
Too few know of the existence of the words I wrote
less will understand their meaning.
So the lines I write for you
will wither away
along with the people to remember.
And if noone will remenber
then the words are wasted after all.