Everything would be easier If we were still strangers.

“He was never mine, but losing him broke my heart.”

“1. I don’t want to feel safe in other arms. 
2. I don’t want to thirst after other lips. 
3. I don’t want to make my smile dependent on other people.
4. I don’t want to lose myself in other eyes. 
5. I don’t want to see my home in people.
6. I don’t want to reminisce. 
7. I don’t want to waste my time for liars. 
8. I don’t want to be the one who’s broken.
9. I don’t want to shed tears for others. 
10. I don’t want to lay sleepless in my bed.
11. I don’t want to miss you in endless nights. 
12. I don’t want to wait for calls and messages.
13. I don’t want to need somebody.
14. I don’t want to do what other people expect from me.
15. I don’t want to lose my heart again.”

“chodź, chodź
w moje ręce ciepłe
w moje ręce oczekujące
w moje usta zachłanne
jak deszcz”

 Wiedziałam, że spełni się wszystko to, o czym marzę, a następnie stracę to, by wiedzieć, czym jest prawdziwa wolność 

 Ale to była miłość, nawet mimo bólu, który wciąż pamiętam 

 Taki już mamy zwyczaj, że w chwilach wzruszenia uciekamy się do błahych słów i mniej mówimy, niż czujemy. Boimy się powiedzieć za dużo. Dlatego brak nam właściwych słów, gdy nie wypada żartować. 

“Sex is not the climax of a relationship, pardon the pun, but those moments at 2am when you wake up to her lips on your lips, her sleep-heavy body lying across yours, knowing the world is asleep whilst you move together, calling to a god that neither of you believe in… those moments are what I live for.”

“I really want to forget how his touch felt like, how he smelt like, how he walked, how his smile looked like, how his kiss tasted, how his voice sounded. How he was. I want to forget. Please. Help me forget.”



“Don’t say maybe if you want to say no.”

 Więc jeśli mogę cię o coś poprosić - zostań. Nie wymagam dwudziestoczterogodzinnej uwagi, prezentów i pełnych emocji wyznań. Chcę tylko rano się budzić i mieć pewność, że jesteś, że mogę zadzwonić i usłyszeć twój radosny głos, że choćby nie wiem co się działo, zawsze będę dla ciebie najlepsza, że twoja dłoń nie chce trzymać żadnej innej dłoni, tylko moją. 
Naprawdę. To wszystko czego potrzebuję. 

 Strata zawsze boli, nawet jeśli traci się coś, czego tak naprawdę się nie chciało, co tylko trzymało się na czarną godzinę. 

 Pragnę iść za Tobą, ale kręcisz głową, ponieważ oboje wiemy, że to niemożliwe. 

 Mylisz się. Tu aż się roi od wspomnień setek osób. Spotkać tu możesz całe ich życie, ich uczucia, ich nadzieje i brak nadziei, nieziszczone marzenia, rozczarowania i porażki, nieodwzajemnione miłości, które przysporzyły im cierpień. Wszystko kiedyś przerwane wciąż tu jest. 

 Zwiększasz miedzy nami dystans. To jest z pewnością dobre, dla Ciebie. Dla mnie oznacza to koniec. Widzisz, to jest tak, ze składam się ze słów, dlatego potrzebuje rozmowy częściej niż raz na tydzień. 

 Czasem wchodzi się drugi raz do tej samej rzeki. Ale wtedy masz już pewność, że nie utoniesz, bo na plecach niesiesz koło ratunkowe zwane doświadczeniem. 

 I nie robić z prostych spraw emocjonalnych labiryntów. 

 Każdy mężczyzna, każda kobieta ma słabość do jednej osoby na całym świecie. Gdyby ona zadzwoniła i powiedziała “Przyjedź do mnie, chcę być z Tobą” zerwałbym się z końca świata, aby to zrobić. Aby z nią być. 

 Bo ja lubię do Ciebie pisać. Z różnych powodów. Między innymi dlatego, że chcę, żebyś wiedziała, że myślę o Tobie. To dość egoistyczna pobudka, ale nie mam zamiaru się jej wypierać. A myślę dużo i często. Właściwie myśli o Tobie towarzyszą mi w każdej sytuacji. I nie masz pojęcia, jak bardzo jest mi z tym dobrze. A przy okazji wymyślam różne rzeczy. Z którymi też przeważenie jest mi dobrze. Bo bardzo wysoko cenię fakt, że zaistniałaś w moim życiu. Ostatnio zresztą trudno używać słów takich jak „cenię”. Ostatnio czasami wydaje mi się, że słowa są za małe. Dlatego dziękuję Ci. Dziękuję Ci z całą powagą i nieuchronnym lekkim wzruszeniem za to, że jesteś. I że ja mogę być. 

 Kiedyś opowiem Ci o tym, co przeżyłam bez Ciebie, a co chciałam przeżyć z Tobą. 

 Zakładasz, że między nami jest coś takiego, co pozwoli nam zawsze do siebie wracać. Zakładasz, że cokolwiek zrobisz - zawsze będę czekać. Nie będę. Coraz częściej myślę, że już nic między nami nie zostało. 

 Każda droga w pewnym miejscu się rozwidla. 
Wybieramy różne drogi, myśląc, że kiedyś się spotkamy. 
Widzisz, jak ktoś coraz bardziej się oddala.
To nic - jesteśmy dla siebie stworzeni, w końcu się spotkamy. 

 Najwięcej rzeczy tracimy, gdy uważamy je za stracone. 

 Na końcu będziemy pamiętać nie słowa naszych wrogów, ale milczenie naszych przyjaciół 

 Ucz się rezygnować ze wszystkiego, co boisz się stracić. 

 Po jakimś czasie po prostu odpuściłam, po raz kolejny tracąc coś cennego. 

“Every accomplishment starts with the decision to try.”

I…I used to make long speeches to you after you left. I used to talk to you all the time, even though I was alone. I walked around for months talking to you. Now I don’t know what to say. It was easier when I just imagined you. I even imagined you talking back to me. We’d have long conversations, the two of us. It was almost like you were there. I could hear you, I could see you, smell you. I could hear your voice. Sometimes your voice would wake me up. It would wake me up in the middle of the night, just like you were in the room with me. Then…it slowly faded. I couldn’t picture you anymore. I tried to talk out loud to you like I used to, but there was nothing there. I couldn’t hear you. Then…I just gave it up. Everything stopped. You just…disappeared.”







“She loves you with her body. With her touch and crowd. I love you with my soul. With my passion and mind.”





i can’t delete you from my contacts list
perhaps i should but i can’t 
some things feel too final even if i can
never hear your voice again

I am holding all the things 
I haven’t left to lose

All love poems become loss
You won’t be gone even when 
I delete you from my phone

What are we if
not fragment of 
stories never told

All the computers
They dream of ones and zeros
Can’t imagine twos

 I’ve no words
to match your silence. 

Everything we have between us

Feels like fragments of something better

Saying you don’t love me
Is a lot of things, but not
a 404 error. 

Every time your breath

Snags in your sleep I think

“Maybe. Maybe this is that

Final end.” But no and no:

You stir half-slumbered to

Only belch another snore.

there are too many
poems about love 

We run out of truths
Long before our lies

We are text messages
Instead of suggestions
Emails instead of letters
And prose instead of poetry

Being with you is the only mistake I am happy to have made.

 I am tired of romanticizing
the madness of loving you.

You say we are a couple
But all your pictures
Are selfies

I have too much
And need
Even more

I keep losing track of the places where I find you.

Let me follow you as gently as the river,
Like you furiously as the rapids,
Unfollow you swiftly as the river,
Drown as quickly as I logout.

I would like to say I am drowning in you
But I learned to tread water long ago

The moon said to the sun

“Why can’t you be a star?”

The sun said to the moon

“Why are you so small?”

And the black hole spoke

Not a single thing at all.

I tried so hard

to escape you

but every mirror

I broke showed

your face.

When you woke up

Looking into your eyes

I saw you did not know

My name.

I gave you my love anyway

Because my heart is mine

And mine to give, and yours

To do with as you please.

We are silent even before our silence

And mistake epigrams for cheap truth

… My love was better

When it was unrequited

We build our wholeness out of so many broken things.

my notebooks are full of fragments

poems begun, half-done

and lost

You were the answer to every question I had.

I would ask why the sky was blue

And you would ask what blue was

And we would make a story

About the color that became blue,

How it climbed into the white sky,

Made it blush the shade of the sun

And how blue was born that day.

And I ask how you died, and fucking why!

And they all offer answers, stories

That make no sense at all. I know

If you were here we’d make a story

About how you died and your funeral.

And I would have said: “How did you die?”

And you’d have asked me:”How did I live?”

You are every word I will never write,

Every poem these lips will never speak,

Every song that will never be sung –

My love for you consumes my hours

Waking or sleeping, ideas fall away,

And my muse hates you so, but

you are every word I will never write …

tragedy

We ran out of smiles

Long before words

I have run out of stolen words to speak with you.

I am writing poems again.
I would like to say
It is not your fault.
I would like to say that.

I was not made for this,
Just as you were not
Made for me. Why must,
(it hurts) why must it —
It. Hurts. So. Good.

I wonder if our hopes and dreams
Have knocked and come and gone,
If the perfect people who always seen
To never lose have finally won.
Last night I had a migraine,
There was pounding on the door.
I wonder if opportunity came
Just once and will not anymore.

You do not bring the ocean to a river’

 Jeśli coś było na tyle ważne, że nie możesz o tym zapomnieć wiedz, że musi do ciebie wrócić. Może w innej osobie, innym miejscu, czasie, ale wróci. 

 Spraw, żeby twoje wybory miały znaczenia. Rób to, co daje ci szczęście. Powiedz ludziom, których kochasz, że ich kochasz. Nie czekaj na lepszy moment. Zrób to teraz 

 I’m not going to lie, losing? Yeah it hurt. It was never a game for me, I always picked you. I guess she had something I never did. You and I both know that she’s better for you. I denied it to myself for so long. It wasn’t until I saw you and her that it began to make sense. I don’t know what this is, maybe it’s goodbye. 

ou always indulged my childish behavior. Thank you for that. I remember staring at your lips for the longest time. Just waiting for you to kiss me. I think you knew, I think you purposefully made me wait. But my god, when you kissed me, I only saw stars and fuck, it was worth it. 

I miss midnight adventures with you 

You said, ‘I destroy everything I touch.’
Why didn’t I listen? 

 I chose you, for fuck sakes, I chose you. It was always you. Don’t you get it? There was never anyone else, just you. 

I’m always picking you - Poemsforthebad

 I used to drink the memory of you away. It was easier than dealing with the hollow feeling you left me with. 

 Can I ask you something? Can you please, just for once, answer honestly. Why wasn’t I good enough? Why wasn’t I enough for you? I tried, I really did. I wanted it to be me so badly. I thought I could make you happy. I wanted too. I wanted to make you smile and laugh. I wanted to raise children with you, marry you, I wanted to grow old together. There were so many things I wanted. I still have no idea what went wrong, or why. I don’t know why you left, or why I’m still begging for you to come back. I don’t know why I still love. All that I know is that you were my future. Now there isn’t one. 

I cannot see passed tomorrow 

 I saw you with her today. You held her hand the way you used to hold mine. She really is beautiful, you’re so lucky. I hope you treat her with kindness. I mean it, I really do. I felt my heart crush when she laughed. You used to make me smile like that. I hope she knows you like one and a half sugars in your tea, and not two. I hope you sing to her at 2am, just like you did for me. I hope she fights for you, and defends you, just like I did for you. I hope she knows you’re scared of heights, and that your mother loves you. I hope she knows your fears and dreams. Your aspirations and your desires. I hope she knows how lucky she is to have you. 

 Right now we are not right for one another. I know, it’s not something I wanted to admit, but it’s true. I hope that one day in the future you and I will fit together, like a jig saw. We’ll meld into an unfamiliar, yet familiar pattern. 

 I say I wouldn’t care if you walked away,
But every time you’re here
I’m begging you to stay. 

She fits you better than I fit you. I hope she makes you smile, I hope she loves you. 

 I’m not going to be the girl you marry. I’ll never meet your mother, nor will I laugh with your father. You won’t share with me your dreams, or your aspirations. I won’t even learn your sisters name. But I’ll be the girl you dream of, in twenty years when you lay next to your wife. I’ll cross you mind at 2am when the night is coldest, and you’ll wonder if I still smell like vanilla.
By then you would have forgotten my name, but you won’t have forgotten how much I loved you, how I will always love you. 

 

I stayed up all night in April
reading every single conversation
we had
wondering when did you stop
loving me?

I cried all night in May
wondering
why did you leave?
when you always
promised to
stay?

I spent all of June kissing
boys whose lips
tasted like whiskey
and stale cigarettes
because you left
me
empty

 

 I hope that you still taste
my name in your mouth
and it tastes like fucking
poison. 

 It’s 3am and I thought about calling you.
But screaming down the phone with my
slurred speech and bitter tongue would
not amount to anything.
And
then I thought,
about how your sleep filled voice
would crack my heart
And how
I would crumble and fall back
into the love
I have spent a year
running away from. 

Drunken phone calls speak the truth- 

 I bet you don’t remember
when you called me at 4am
and told me you thought I 
was beautiful
But I couldn’t help but wonder
if I was the only one
you were whispering those 
words too 

He isn’t you and he is so much
better for me, but I can’t figure
out how to not love you.

 

 When you called me baby
I knew I wasn’t the only 
one. I denied every tear 
that fell from my face, 
because I was in love with
you. 

 

I found myself missing you
awfully today. I traced your
smile along the window pane
of my car. Imagining the last
time you were there.

I could hear your laughter
as I walked to class and for
whichever reason, I could
feel your arms wrapping
around me.

I saw your eyes in the people
that passed me by, and I could
recall the way you smell after
a shower.

I miss you,
and
I wonder,
do you miss
me
too?

 

 

I’ll spend my forever,
waiting
waiting for you to come back
and chase away the monsters

I’ll spend my forever,
waiting
to be the one and only
that resides in your heart

I’ll spend my forever,
waiting
to be the reason why you
smile

I’ll spend my forever
waiting
to hear the voice
I have missed so dearly

I’ll spend my forever
waiting
for you to fill my dreams
with your face

I’ll spend my forever
waiting
for you to love me
and
only me

 

I’ll spend forever

I tried to be someone worth loving
I changed myself just so I could
fit into your world. And although I wasn’t
more than a fleck of dust in your ocean,
nor a star in your sky
You will always be every single
part of mine.

But you left
while I was too busy
loving you

 

Tak, możesz być dla mnie wszystkim. Wierzę w Ciebie i wierzyłam od pierwszej chwili naszego poznania. Możesz wszystko zmienić, wszystko ze mnie zrobić, co zechcesz. Tylko chciej tego i kochaj mnie bardzo. Mnie trzeba strasznie, bez pamięci kochać i trzymać z całej siły. Inaczej nie ma mnie. Ginę czasem nawet sama dla siebie. Sama siebie nie znam w takich chwilach.

"Ktoś cię krzywdzi, a ty mu zamiast trucizny podajesz ciepłą herbatę z cytryną. Bo nie ma złych ludzi. Są tylko złe zachowania. Trzeba umieć widzieć człowieka w człowieku."

Bo za bardzo mi zależało. Od początku. Od momentu, kiedy zaczęliśmy na siebie patrzeć.

Zawsze się dochodzi gdzie indziej, niż się chciało."

 I used to wonder which version of you, I would get on the phone each night. If you would be the loving soul, I so readily fell for. But you weren’t, you never were. Because you only called me when you were lonely. And I didn’t mind. 3am was our time. I waited for your phone calls. Months passed and I still waited. I spent all of my time waiting. Why did I spend all of my time waiting? 

you only called me when she wasn’t there

 I thought about writing to you today. I thought it would be therapeutic and cleansing. I wanted to tell you how angry you make me. How I literally feel like I am coming apart at the seams. How I can’t bake a single fucking thing, because flour, plain white flour reminds me of you. How some days I can’t breathe, I can’t feel my lungs. It’s like I am dying and I am living. I wanted to tell you that your taste in music sucks, but I would gladly listen to it, 24/7. How awful it feels to see you with her, knowing that should be me. And I have tried to rip you out of my veins, but I can’t. I fucking can’t. It isn’t fair how I spend my days stuck in the middle of nothing, not moving. And you, you get to walk around as if though nothing is wrong. When everything is wrong. But instead, I wrote ‘I love you, I love you.’ And I don’t want too.