My Perfect Shades of Darkness

I don’t hide my monsters in the closet. They’re free to play. I know … it doesn’t make me pleasant company, it doesn’t make me look like a good person. You are afraid of my decision, you don’t understand …you don’t understand why I am patient …you would have run away a long time ago … I accept my sins… I embrace my path – sometimes wrongly chosen – I embrace my madness… I wear it like armor… I embrace strength and insecurity within me. …

I accept myself completely!

…I feel sorry for you… You’re still walking through the world with your eyes closed, unable to see behind the beautifully painted facades.

..my monsters are harmless compared to the ones hiding well under the smile … full of illusions…

I’m sorry for you…

I miss people, feelings, little things. The excitement of the past. I miss waiting for you, believing your impatience is the same as mine … I miss the crazy desire to tell you everything … I miss being able to believe that you care. …

…the bittersweet love that numbs my senses, the illusion that you love me as much…

I miss being able to lie…

… of intensely felt emotions, of soft touches, of smiles, of tears…

I miss friends we’ve seen for years… I miss my home …

… The rain that soaks and washes everything, the storm… The wind… I miss love…

I miss your understanding…

I miss not knowing I can’t be saved…

. I asked for the loan time, I want to forget that I count the days …

I miss the faith . In you, in me, in naivety, in stories …

I miss the poems and being able to write them again.

I miss how much I loved you.

I miss me.

It rained… It rained… It’s been raining for so many days… ..to wash away the sins of the world, it seems to me.
We seek shelter, we hide from it, not to remove the colorful drawings of wandering.
… Once we were a white, spotless canvas, but we were embarrassed by our nakedness. When we wander, we paint sophisticated drawings with the watercolor of sins. We stubbornly mask the essence of our existence.

We are ridiculously colorful!

I mourn the immaculate whiteness of my being!

It was raining… it rained so gently…
I put out my palm. The cold splashes startle me and where the drops drip, it becomes clear that it was once white that is now full of colors…
Raindrops mixed with watercolor flow from my palms… They hit the concrete. Like a thin thread flowing away, washed by the rain…

My colors in the rain…
…
Will we ever have the courage… …?

I locked myself in a box. I wanted to get rid of myself, forget who I was.
I boldly guarded every little detail of who I was.
Then I complained because I was lost.
I was a boundless void, I didn’t like the light because the familiar dark was more comfortable.
I used to love SPRING. The child in me liked the scents of newborn flowers.
The wave of love that floated in the air. The peace of colors. The promise of renewal.
Now when I look out the window, it’s as if I want to search for the hidden box of me.
I wish to feel the joy of spring again, caressing the dying parts of the me.
Feelings of the taste of spring. I wonder when I will find myself again?

Sometimes my emotions overwhelm me so much that I feel the desperate need to shout my thoughts so that they can be heard even in the distance. Then I would undress in front of you so that you can see my scars…the marks left by the passage of time. I want you to look at me. At my absolute nakedness. I want you to look at me! Really look at me! See how my soul flutters? … Fear? Fear and suspicion? … Tell me, what else do you see? Sometimes I forget who I am. Remind me what I can be.

There were people in my life who physically destroyed me, and there were people who crippled my soul … I don’t know which of them were worse …
There were times when Joy was just a dream …
There were people who made me feel cheap ….
I gave myself .. unconditionally …
I wasted myself, without noticing …

An immense inertia ruled my body.
I wavered between dream and reality.
I had no desire to move, I did not even open my eyes.
From somewhere the chords of a song could be heard
Yiruma - Kiss the Rain.
I wasn't quite sure if I was really hearing the song.
Maybe it was just a pleasant dream ... but the thought of her gave me inner peace.

I opened my eyes with difficulty.
It was dark in the room.
Everything had turned gray.

He stood in front of the large window, the curtains drawn.
He looked out at the storm raging outside.
His figure was overshadowed by the shadow that dominated the room.

I loved to watch him.
I looked at his features often.
I loved his smile ... the gleam in his eyes.
His anger and happiness.
I loved everything about him.
His voice was husky when he wanted me.

He sat motionless in the shadows of the room.
I wondered: what is he thinking?
Why don't I have the talent to read his mind?
I could see through his eyes ...
Probably a stupid idea.

With difficulty, I averted my eyes from him.
I looked at the objects in the room, then my gaze rested on my dusty desk where my old typewriter sat.
He liked to look at me while I wrote ...
I chuckled in amusement and turned my gaze back to him.

He was looking at me.
The desire to hug him forever almost overwhelmed me.
He sat down beside me and kissed me on the forehead.
-Good morning!-
he said to me in that husky voice that made me tremble.

...

The mornings are beautiful with you.

Rene...

There were times when we made a perfect and round world.
No! It wasn’t a perfect world, ours.
Sometimes I was on fire. I was the burning fire.
There were times when the wind carried our remains. We parted… and lost each other.
Sometimes the sound of your voice filled me with pain …
There were times when you clipped my wings and pinned me to the ground, and then you lifted me back up with a single „- I love you!”.
We no longer exist! REMEMBER ME

SHe likes to sit on the dark side … It was her favorite place on the moon. She couldn’t explain why. Perhaps she was drawn to the deep silence or the unpredictable darkness. Here she could best hear her inner voice speaking softly to her, like a wise old man. she felt a kind of inner tenderness. But sometimes she was afraid of the shadows of the eternal night. At those moments she carefully made her way to the sunlit side. She sat down on her memory-filled log and looked around. Most of all she loved to look at the people who looked like tireless ants from here – always on the move! – So many smiles, tears, joys, sorrows.-the ambivalence of life,- said the inner voice. It had been ages since she had moved to the moon, since she had become the spirit of the moon. It was as if she had never been human before, but the spirit of darkness. A strong distaste suddenly seized her from the humans – I don’t like their noise, -she told herself. The old man smiled benevolently at her …

Are the stars dreamy? Does love have scents? … Secrets! The endless moment holds me in her womb Where did she go? Tell me! What is the angels’ song? Hold me! … Love me! … I want to forget everything… loneliness. If I took you… …if I stole you, would you understand? Would it be just a random dream? I feel you… I believe you! Why are you afraid? Can twilight be without light? I’m an infinite void! … Nights… days. I call you softly… Do you hear the silence scream? Our time is up, I can’t find it, where is it? Tired memories… They’re all ashes… They’re all gray… A random dream I’m just that?