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…

Inner Void

 

Shadows borrowed from another world -

Sunless days and moonless nights,

Left to suffer like some destined martyr

When all I need is a hug from a friend or a foe.

But the world is ruined -

No one walks beside me even into harm.

..

And now caged and broken I rot in the void

Like a monk forgotten in a temple on a mountain high.

My vision shattered, my ears deaf – senses numb just to keep me alive

I am no saint – just a normal human.

Hair matted, face covered in dirt – like a doll I wait on the shelf called life

Buried like a prisoner in the dungeon of my hollow mind.

Warmth has never appealed to me – I am colder than ice,

Winter storms in my heart.

That’s why isolated in the emptiness I stay

To cleanse my mind of the anger I feel among countless souls -

Empty shells.

My rage consumes me like a fire devours dry trees,

Spreading desert – natural disaster.

I am so undone, the answer is never given to me.

Like a rat trapped in a maze, I pace, anxious to escape,

Circling back to wrath – even the silence is not enough.

Vicious thoughts, yet an innocent face smiling, pretending to care.

…

From the depths of my ire I rise again,

My fury doesn’t scare me anymore,

I accept it as my second nature, another demon to tame

Like every sin I have trained to serve me.

I refuse to give up the dark parts of me just to fit into the world.

Disgrace might be my middle name, yet I embrace it.

I am not deceived by the false positivity everyone promotes.

I refuse to wash myself into the light as if horror doesn’t live inside me.

Tired of the molds, I refuse to obey – this is not my nature.

As a hurricane I rage, as a sun I soothe – the Duality I claim as mine.