Scribbles of a freshly minted poet

How much do you long for a slice of affection, a loving reaction, a place to belong?

How badly do you seek to be honestly forgiven, while never freely given, made you turn the other cheek?

What would you do to be duly respected, with nothing expected, just because you're you?

How much would you bare to be so deeply cared for like the burden you wore for others' care?

How long would you wait until you yourself change and the mirror looks strange until you only see hate?

Give up your all and you may just receive a morsels of love to give you reprieve.

09.05.2026

If words were made weapons that could aim and could kill, to end all my pain, instead, they leave my soul still.

“What did you do?” is the needle that pinches and pricks at nothing inside you in the emptiness that sticks.

“Why didn’t you?” is the arrow that pierces and stays, hits the vital organs in hopes that is pays.

“How could you?” is the dagger that slashes and draws, cuts through the tendon, makes you feel raw.

“Why?” is the broadsword that aims for the neck, that severs and quiets, leaves you a wreck.

How can a few words pain one so much? Violent and deadly without the slightest touch.

03.05.2026

High on the cathedral corner I look down on passers-by, see their little bustling lives, the outrage, laugh, and cry.

In howling wind and blazing sun, in rain and thunderstorm, I protect and shield the stone from the worst of getting worn.

Cold water gushing forth from my hollowed out insides. I give everything I have until my end arrives.

Nobody attends to me, unseen I will remain. Pay attention to the statues, holiness be their domain.

With neglect I start to crack, my features washing out, face blackened by bacteria, reduced to just a spout.

Silently I witness history and time, yet never being witnessed, my story's only mine.

17.05.2026

To the sky I gently soar swiftly carried by the breeze far away from any shore higher up with ease.

The water softly shimmers like a million pearls amongst them shadow swimmers floating in the swirls.

Ever closer do they draw readying for the embrace sunbeams mirrored on a golden claw soon having won the race.

One last try before it’s done reaching for the sky with nowhere else to run fight’s end is drawing nigh.

I am the focus of the eye hear the snapping of the beak the talons’ empty grip just shy ears deafened by the shriek.

One last chance I may have yet to succeed in my escape I dive towards the waiting wet cresting waves I nearly scrape.

Beneath me waits the icy ocean above me razor sharp feathers dragging in slow motion like fingers on a harp.

06.05.2026

You thought you could get away? I’m always here waiting, watching, drooling. It’s a pity you suppress me so much. You push me down, beat me up, scratch me raw. I could help you! Don’t you want to be helped?

I can make you run when alone you hobble, I can make you fly when alone you fall, I can make you tall when alone you grovel.

Why don’t you want me? Have I not done enough for you? Ungrateful!

30.04.2026

I had to run before ever being taught how to stand, let alone walk. Chased, pulled, thrown, forced. So I run, run, run, and never arrive or escape. Away from you! No, me! No, them! The wolves snap at my heels, want to bite my throat, cut off my air, bleed me dry.

I flee, like prey I leap, the stones and thorns cut my skin. I bleed, like bait I smell, the noses twitch and flews drip. I fall, like stars I burn, the teeth sink into my flesh.

“But where to?” the tongue snarls. “How can you get out of your own head?” the teeth scowl. “Stop and rest easy here.” the wolf coaxes.

If I don’t get away, what will become of me?

30.04.2026

Time moves as it should through me and you, if only it would move around me.

Let me stay right here, let me sink deeper and deeper into the quicksand of grief. Let every grain of sand be the bookkeeper of the weight of my pain.

But time moves as it should through me and you, won’t let me stay put, carries me with.

I run along as the surface hardens with every tread. Forward in time I stumble inescapably pulled by invisible thread, indifferent to my hurt.

So time moves as it should through me and you, it has never stood still.

Like a desert welcoming rain, dry earth turned to sinking mud, then cracked scales baked in the sun carrying me forward with every thud of my bare feet.

Has time moved? As it should through me and you, further than I alone ever could relentlessly healing.

29.04.2026