Posts Tagged ‘aging’



as my biological age
catches up fast
with my mental age,
people ask me
what fortunes I wish
life reserves me
in the future.

long gone are my desires
to be worshiped
as the best,
the shiniest,
the most

all those who shine too bright
are flashes only:
burn without substance,
leaving nothing to be
remembered by,
nothing solid to be touched.

I want to go
below the surface.

I want quiet
and calm conversations
into the night –
I want honest
and earnest;
not ahead,
but side by side.

all gold that is here today
for show
will probably be gone tomorrow.

living your life to please others
is not worthy:
the best is to please yourself.

forgiving oneself
is always the hardest
for you are
your hardest judge and jury,
the pickiest to please.

so I want to love myself
to the fullest,
this way, I am not that person
that everybody loves,
but nobody likes.

as I blow
birthday candles,
I want the heart of gold:
to adore
and be adored purely,
lovingly, not smarmy.

so my biggest wish
as I grow older
is not to vapid fortunes,
but to constantly
grow more and more humble.


can you hear me?


are you sad?
you look sad.

maybe not miserable
like a hungry, wet dog in the rain

…a bit unhappy.

I see you standing before me,
shoulders sagging, humming a low tune,
and I don’t know that to say, really,
or where I should put my sorries
(or even if sorries are due).

but I can let you hug me
if that pleases you, or
put me down on my knees so I can hold you:
wrap my arms around your waist,
bury my face in your belly until I leave a mark,
while you run your fingers through my hair
(it’s really soft, I assure you)

and maybe,
I can lay you down in my messy, warm bed,
so we can cross each others’ thighs
and let sleep claim us
without worries,
like we are young and free,

like a better tomorrow is about to come.



i just wish i could be surrounded by sea, now.
the gray sky above,
sand beneath.
no noise, no people.

just me, and the crashing waves
[the only sound].
maybe i’d put my feet in the water
in the sunless midday.
watch as the foam dissipates over and over,
feel the ocean wash away this knot that’s settled in my stomach,
the dizziness that clouds my head.

it is a weird feeling,
growing older.
a chill that settles in the bones.

may we meet again


i remember you differently.
it’s something about your face, but I can’t pinpoint what.
maybe it’s your cheeks… they used to be more sunk in.
nowadays, i see, your face is fuller…
the shape was a bit more oval
back in the day.
you are starting to look more and more like your mother now, you know?
it’s true.
surely, you’ve got a haircut, but that isn’t it either.
or maybe it’s your eyebrows –
they used to be so bushy and restless,
a sign of our disheveled youth!
now they have a more daring design, going upwards,
that makes your expression always look a bit angry.

maybe that’s it.

or maybe it’s just your eyes, what swims in them.
the little flecks of things.
the years.

yeah, that’s definitely it.

we’ve aged and it shows.



“say you love me to my face”

it doesn’t always
need to be like this.

this life.

doesn’t need to be
like an eternal Monday morning,
with a job that we hate,
gastritis from too much coffee
and not (never!) enough sleep.

doesn’t need to be
a bellicose declaration at every corner,
a war that is started every night:
with belligerent blood
and dead bodies scattered along the way…

why must we make
so though
and so rough,
abrasive like sandpaper?

why choose to live a life
with sharp, jagged edges,
that cut through dreams?
why pick on scabs that never heal?

everything can be shiny
and smooth, believe me!
we can go on a good swirl
inside our love and affection,
go down a good path
if we learn to see one another.

it can be good
and breezy, I assure you!

no need for sacrifices,
pain, absolution and redemption
of fallen heroes.
all I need is for you to be you,
and accept me for being me.

there is no space for miracle saviors:
our torturous books
lied to us!