I don’t know who I am

I don’t know who I am.

I look in the mirror and I see my face. I know what it looks like. I know my name. I know where I was born. But I still don’t know who I am.

Once, I was told that I was just a tramp. Trash. Nobody.

I believed them.

I’ve been struggling my whole life to believe that I am actually worth something. I feel unwanted and pushed down to the bottom, despite my skills and knowledge I meticulously acquired. I feel unworthy everyday.

Every day I swim in the oceans too heavy for my soul.

I am water

There once was a drop of water, who had lived on a small leaf near to the ground. She spent there all days disappearing silently into the air at night and appearing again in the morning as dew. Always sitting on the same leaf.

One day, the wind whiffed low and gently brushed the leaf with the drop of water on it. The wind stopped there swirling around.

‘What are you doing here, drop of water?’ he asked.

‘I live here, that’s my home,’ she responded.

‘Why is that? Shouldn’t you flow with the stream?’ the wind couldn’t understand.

‘No, it’s dangerous,’ she said.

‘Shouldn’t you pour down with the rain?’

‘No, that’s too much risk.’

‘Shouldn’t you create waves together with the ocean?’ the wind kept asking.

‘But… I’m scared.’

‘Why are you scared of who you are? Stream, rain, ocean… these are what you’re meant to be.’

‘Of course, these are what I’m meant to be. I am water. I could be anywhere. I just choose to be nowhere,’ the water said and hid behind the leaf.

Is anyone there?

I’ve fallen into a rabbit hole. Everything seems like a dream, except for everything is true.

And everything I wanted to be true now is in limbo. I don’t know what to do because, whatever I’ll do, I know I won’t be satisfied either way. That frustrate me so much that I want to run away far away, where I can’t read and listen and see anything that is unwelcome by my inner self.

That’s my life now.

Why has it happened when I started understanding things and wanting things to be my way?

Because I wanted everything at once and now I have to pay for it.

I look at the time, feel it escaping from under my feet. The ground full of dull colours tries to tie my legs, so I run through the forest of leafless trees. The crying branches painfully cut my skin and squeeze my body in their strong grips. I feel like I can’t breathe… The deck of cards is after me, wanting to suck the paint out of me.

Maybe this is it. Maybe that’s where it ends.

Everything

What is your first thought when you wake up in the morning?

Where am I? How long have I been here? Who am I going to be today? Who am I going to be for the next five years?

I wanted to be someone new. Someone whose life is exciting and full of adventure. I’d dreamed of my new life every day, pictured it in details and couldn’t wait it to be true.

Everything had been drawn. Everything had been planned…. Everything fell from the cliff into the wild sea I wanted to feel in my heart.

Now I’m standing on the edge. Torn. Either I step back into the comfort of the soft grass or jump to catch my dreams. It’s only a nanosecond and suddenly I find myself calling after the wind who takes everything.

Crayon

What do your dreams look like? What colours do they have?

Mine were blue and purple, until they became grey and black, until they became ash.

I wasted all my energy on chopping wood, so that I could heat my home that never existed. Instead, I should have been dreaming of the fire that warmed me up, that calmed me down. Now there’s nothing left…

Everything I’d drawn lies at my feet pretending to be a jigsaw. I don’t want to make them whole, though. And everything I’d created blurred away into a crayon smudge that I desperately want to get rid off.

And I’m still here… The waterfall is in place to drown me, choke me to death.

Big announcement!

So here it is, another volume of poetry have just been published by myself. Another collection of words spilled straight from my broken soul. Written with sweat and blood.

It’s been my favourite one – a bit dark but heading towards the light (I think).

Please survive through the whole book, because at the end of it is the best piece I’ve ever written (I think).

Read! Enjoy!

I vanished between the shadows
of my broken soul.

Once

There once was a boy, who climbed a hill every morning to see the sunrise. He was sat on a bench watching the sun warm up the earth. I asked him if he wasn’t tired and bored of watching the same thing every day. He told me that he wouldn’t ever be bored of something that gave him life. I didn’t understand what he meant.

So, the other day I woke up early in the morning to join the boy in watching the sunrise, as I still wasn’t sure what all that was about. I climbed the hill, catching my breath and then, exhausted, I sat on the bench next to the boy. We were sitting in silence, watching the first rays breaking the horizon.

The next day I was so excited to see it again that I almost ran up the hill. But when I reached the bench I noticed that it was empty. The sun was ready to rise, and there was nobody to watch it apart from me. As I sat on the bench I found a notebook left behind. I opened it. Then I understood…

Coming back

I looked forward to coming back home, but as I drove puddles cut my way. I had to stop. I got out of my car, stepping straight into a swamp and staining my neat shoes. I knew the marks would never come off.

There was no coming back.

I remembered the home from the old times. When you were there, waiting for me, brewing tea, sitting in a chair. That was what I hoped to come back to.

Even though I perfectly knew you, I completely forgot who you were and what you did to me. I just missed you. I wanted you to sit next to me.

You always said what you felt, but I never wanted you to love me. Now I want nothing but you to love me.

There is no coming back.

You

I’m standing on a shore, staring at you, and I don’t know what to say. Maybe there’s nothing to say.

I’m standing on an edge, wondering about my life, and I don’t know what to do. Maybe there’s nothing I can do.

I’m standing on a hill, thinking about flying, but I don’t know how to breathe. Maybe there’s no breath in me.

And I sit on that bench. Tired of asking myself questions that have no answers. If I could… if only I could lay my head on your lap, feel the warmth of your body, hear the whisper of your voice, feel your touch on my hand. Then I would know all the answers.

Then I would follow you everywhere, letting you lead me.

I went to the forest, holding your hand. The trees absorbed you. You left me in the darkness. You left me in the cold.

I’m fading.

Only

You look at me. And what do you see?

You see what you want to see. You create the image that you want to create. You’ve already made up your mind about me.

And when I suddenly speak up, you’re surprised because you thought I could only politely nod my head with agreement.

You’re surprised when I climb a mountain because the look on my face clearly indicated that I’d been lost in woods.

And you’re shocked when I cover my hands with dirt because you thought the only thing I could do was to put a lipstick on.

I’ve given everything to the world, not expecting anything in return, only to become a person that you cannot see.

How many years have I been here? Where have I been before? How did they find me, if I’d been covered up by snow?

I only grow on the land that I’ve been allied to. When you pull me out, there is nothing to quench my thirst. I wither.

wise are the witches