I have never crossed paths with anyone
who knows how to love.
Everyone is trying.
Everyone is guessing
Not sure what love is.
To some extent
I always knew
that there must be something in your heart
that resists my presence.
Which is in conflict
whether in flesh or in soul
because of me.
And still craves more of me.
I think your heart never got used to me.
It just got used to resisting me.
You just need my presence in your life
to maintain the state of chaos and struggle
that has now become your natural habitat.
I will let you have your way
and stand at the corner,
as I always have,
and struggle to
know my place in your life.
Tulips grow out of my skin
with roots tangling around this body I once called prison.
To this day, whenever I despise my beating heart,
I remind myself that flowers grow within the cracks of my skin,
inbetween dark and hollow spots,
where once was nothing but grief.
I remind myself that bleeding is healing
and that the tears I cried have been the cleaning rain for my soul.
I remind myself that tulips do not grow
without the cold breeze of winter;
and so do I.
For I have been growing out of pain,
and I will survive each winter to bloom again.
Jehona Thaqi© you will not destroy me
There is no animal inside.
We are always the animal we were.
We sometimes recognize
when and with whom
we will be able to get away with it.
I look at myself
and realize that, at some level,
every sad story
I ever told to an audience
who wanted to believe in me,
were mere excuses
to justify the destination
I was already heading to,
long before reasons were born.
You sit beside my favorite book,
after you hand me a cup of tea.
Though I want to know what you’ve been up to,
we just look out
as we have done numerous times,
when we had too much to say
but didn’t want to.
Knowing that silence of this room
we will make us forget all of it,
one by one.
The struggle you had to had to face
on your way here,
with streets flooded with monsoon rains;
the fact that when the doorbell rang
I was just about to immerse myself
in sleep that had evaded me for so long;
how I sat up and wondered
would it be you
and dismissed it as another dream
that would not hurt
until I go back to reality;
how you almost wanted to run back
the moment you pressed the bell;
how you looked around my room
and felt pity and relief
at same time,
for seeing that I have not changed.
I would have made you a cup of tea
if not for my fever
and I knew you’d make me one
for you are here to say the goodbye
that you couldn’t say all the other days
just like this.
You’d ask me if I have someone
to look after me.
And I’d ask you to stay
till the rain stops,
till the water flooding the streets recede,
till we can let go,
either of each other
or our pride.
Just another daily photo blog by Christoph Bardtke
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