Devotion Undone

 

Bend these knees for me, kneel calmly,

Join your palms for a silent obedience,

Whisper gently what remains of our prayer.

Before the shrine we sinned so many times,

Head down, voice low – still calling me,

My little sinner, this time I won’t join.

My sermon is not holy,

I am the devil you refuse to worship when the others are around,

You pose as a saint until I touch your hands.

My altar calls you every evening,

Like a magnet I draw your body when we are apart,

I am the confession you refuse to make,

Yet you beg for me when you are alone.

…

I possess your thoughts like a hungry demon

Waiting to devour the purest soul,

I am the sleepless nights you spend alone,

Begging for the taste that burns your soul to ashes.

Oh, my little sinner, now is not the time.

My senseless behaviour – a succubus unleashed,

I am driving you mad when I decline to answer

Until your knees hurt to numbness,

Until the game I like is running wild.

…

Your desires fuel my absence, your intoxication makes me feel Godlike,

You sin and then I forgive you,

I toy with you until your body gives in.

Oh, my sweet delusion, I am neither a goddess nor a devil in disguise

I am the answer to your dirty wishes – I use you like you used me too.

I have built this church to lure you, to drive you crazy, just to have revenge.

…

My chapel calls you and here you are – crawling back for more,

Head down, hands pressed – it’s not prayer this time.

The things you whisper never reached the sky,

Your voice entwined with mine – a calling never meant to last.

Oh, my little sinner, now unable to tell more lies,

Your faith collapsed, your body meets again mine.

You kneel for me the way you knelt for him, saying the same oaths,

This time lost within my quiet blaze.

My shrine will keep these secrets as if carved in marble stones

Your faithless chants dissolve where my soft breath touches your lips.

And in sacred hush you yield beneath my cold touch,

Your breath uneasy, your devotion turning thin;

I look down at you – to watch you fall within.

Unsubscribed

 

My subscription for these relationships is over,

I refuse to pay any longer,

I am cancelling it – long overdue.

The trial period of this version of life doesn’t serve me anymore,

I won’t be charged for what doesn’t match my energy.

…

In an era of paying fees to watch and listen, I choose to live,

I pick a reality that represents me, not curated versions –

A moment here, a song there – fragments of what could be.

I am blocking every message from ghosts lurking

Only to gossip once I leave of the room.

I am not subscribing to shiny “memories”, filters of glitz and glamour

That do not suit my inner world.

The stars above shine brighter than any effect on those stories.

These reels are not snippets of me but lies told in movie formats

Delusions…

Of someone else’s needs.

I refuse to pay the rent to stay in the doghouse full of blood-hungry hounds.

Wolves in sheep’s clothing circling me in hunger,

Ready to attack when I am weaker, when my guard falls.

HD screens show me movies of foreign opportunities,

My compass shows a different North, even as I face South.

In a world of picture-perfect museums, I choose to be chaotic art.

My words carry the mayhem brewing in the soul

Overstimulated, hollow – sometimes shallow.

Everyone is different.

Art is not a pattern that leads to instant success.

All the ships I had are now reconsidered; some are deaf, others blind.

Even alone,

In the darkness of my inner havoc

I still make it work.

My songs roam the soul free, my words put people in a chokehold

Not because I want to hurt but because I aim to stay real

– what breaks me makes me stronger.

My life is not a comedy show – it’s a messy reality TV with no producers,

The editor’s cut doesn’t sell.

…

My subscription for these relationships is over,

I cut the old wounds once more – deeper this time.

The poison should be drained; the marks might be worse than before.

But the current version of me has unfollowed all the fake influencers

To make room for what truly excites me.

A little pain no longer frightens me,

My reflection is what matters the most,

Even sunk deep in sadness, loneliness or bitterness

I know one day the moon will smile at me again,

A soft silver glow will kiss me when the time comes,

Embracing darkness and light – a Yin Yang that flows tirelessly.

Beneath the False God

 

The coldest rain pours over me,

The raindrops of shadows and memories drench me to the bone,

Cute and scary meet-ups – just us,

Frozen, dangerously numb, I am still here.

…

You and I were never meant to stay forever,

Even when the moon kissed our evenings from the sky above.

…

I endured my fate, filled with torment and sweet pain,

I died several deaths while still alive.

Your touch was fire, purifying my soul,

Your voice was the nightmare I dreamt while held in your hands.

And I wanted every piece of me to shatter until I was free,

Until I was able to choose my path.

Every time I pictured myself away from you,

I felt suffocated, yet trembling at what might come

To grow my own wings, not angelic but wings nonetheless.

I drained my tears, trying not to bleed myself dry,

Worshiping you like a toxic religion, brainwashed, I prayed on my knees,

Waiting for your salvation becoming my own damnation.

…

But every pain washed me clean of every twisted sin you preached.

Every erased smile is now back on my face, a pure evil grin.

Every punishment now my badge of honor, a mark left on my skin.

In the end, my past self vanished beneath the preaching of the false god.

I stand still, on my own, with a voice loud and clear –

Message send,

Response is not required; I was brutally direct.

The coldest rain pours over me,

The raindrops of shadows and memories drench me to the bone,

All the dirt is washed away,

The Misery is no longer living in me!

The Visit

 

No fear, no pain, no sleep, no peace.

…

I open the wooden door for a long walk

But I hear the wolf’s howl, filled with sadness, an echo of loneliness.

I stand frozen, unable to move, touched by his emotions,

Only the dread is never meant to be felt.

My eyes are filling with tears, waves of grief flood every cell of me,

My forgotten memories come like lost movies black-and-white,

Ready to be seen, ready to remind me of the child I was.

The wolf comes near, a blurry shadow at the edge of the misty forest,

His songs are filled with hunger and regret,

Lone wolf – wandering the woods aimlessly, with no need to know where to go.

Scared, I close the door, putting a barrier between me and the approaching howl.

Yet mesmerized, I listen to what he tells me – a story heavy

– Only the fittest can survive.

He is coming closer – he needs a companion even for a minute or so.

His cries bring back the hidden insecurities, moments of my past

Entwined with the unnatural meeting we share.

He is the singer of this horrid song and I am the audience enchanted tone by tone.

My thoughts keep messing with me – so hopeless as if I never was at all.

And he sits in front of the door, mourning whatever he lost,

Roaring sounds shake me to the core – I sink deep into my feelings,

Consumed by powerlessness against the turmoil coming from his throat.

Enchanted, I go through every state of his being,

Emotional exhaustion and then he is gone.

…

The forest is now silent, just a flashback of a life once lived.

Only the faint reminiscence of the presence I felt.

My mind is now black, weary of the encounter I just had.

And on the threshold of my cabin, I still stand quietly

Engulfed by the warmth of who I am now -

No fear, no pain, no sleep, no peace.

The Song I Never Played

 

What would have happened if I had never stopped playing the piano?

Would my life have turned into a beautiful song heard across the world?

Would I still be so insecure about my compositions,

My lyrics forgotten on a hard drive?

What would have happened if I had said nothing and simply kept playing

The melodies inside my head – would I have become a true composer?

What if I had never failed that crucial math exam?

Would I have become fluent in German,

Moving to this country like I once dreamt?

What if I hadn’t backed down and tried to study Asian languages at university?

Would I have travelled across Asia like I always wanted?

What would have happened?

–  A question I have asked myself too many times

When regret feels larger than everything I have achieved so far.

…

But I chose poorly – the times were different, my worldview limited,

Unsure of what I could and couldn’t do…

So many wasted opportunities.

And now I try to make peace with those choices, never quite happy.

As a little child, scared of an angry adult, I quit music

– My first and biggest heartbreak.

I still mourn the lack of resources – small town problems.

Circumstances led to the exam failure, though it was never my greatest regret.

I still blame my younger self for never trying again to switch my major.

It was never the change of city I feared, only my ability to succeed.

…

And now I still ask the same questions, mostly out of habit, knowing it is too late.

My career no longer brings the joy I once had.

I lack creativity, I hate working with numbers.

The only glimmer of hope is the wordplay I have in the evenings when no one is watching

When I can safely break down in tears, tired of the small, stupid daily games I play.

And in the middle of the night, tucked in bed, I still wonder

What might have happened if I stayed with the piano

Instead of standing frozen among strangers in the dim concert hall

Letting others sing the life once I knew as mine.

For a couple of hours, I let my body feel the life that slipped past me.

And every weekend, like clockwork, I pour my heartbreaks into poems like this one,

Stubbornly, I try to keep the last fragment of my soul alive.

Somewhere between the vocals of the songs I listen to and the words I claim as mine,

A small, quiet part of me still refuses to fade away,

It keeps me breathing, something I hold onto.

Yet I drift without direction, unable to see my path ahead.

I never stop moving simply because another day arrives,

Though the life I have feels empty, unfamiliar -

Just another adult demand…