Lucia writes things

Erst wenn meine Nase vor Kälte ganz rot ist

Und meine Hände schon ganz kalt sind

Weil es niemanden gibt

Der sie hält

Wenn sich mein Körper vor dem einschlafen

Nach seinem verzerrt

Dann gestehe ich mir ein

Dass ich uns vermisse

Und wenn der Zug zu dir
am Gleis gegenüber steht
Will ich jedes mal aufs Neue einsteigen
Obwohl es da doch nichts mehr zu sehen gibt

Sag mir

sitzt du im Auto

meidest du meine Straße?

stehst du in der Menge

suchst du nach mir?

fühlst du Schmerz

siehst du mich?

I want to write stories with you

my fingers would be my pen

your skin would be my paper

and my ink would be my love for you

I want to write stories about you

and the days ahead

As I found you

I seemed to have found a piece of me

That I never thought would exist

A piece of me

I will perhaps never find

In any other soul

Than yours

Imagine that your soulmate is sitting in a train, arriving at your local train station

It’s us

Standing at the central station

And I would run to you

And keep you in my arms

Promising to not ever let you go

I hug you so heavy that it hurts

You grab my hair

And pull me closer

And when we stood there for a while

I will whisper in your ear

Where

Have

You

Been

//-that’s what it must feel like

If only I had known

that this was our last night

I would have dug my nails deeper

and kissed you more passionate

scratched your back harder

and run my fingers over your skin more intense

I would have let you feel this devotion

and plunged my teeth in your neck deeper

sighed your name purer

so that you would never forget this sound

and that it would repeat in your head like music

If only I had known that this was our last night

I would have left my marks

As parting gifts

For you to return to

In regret

When you try to find me in another girl

That would never love you in this way

so passionate and intense

Like I did

I don’t want you to stand beside me

When I cannot feel your heart beating for me

I don’t want you to touch me

When it’s another girl you love

And I don’t want you to kiss me

When you try to taste her on my lips

But most of all

I don’t want you to stay

When it was you

Who left

//-affair

I have read loads of poems

and books

in order to get some inspiration

poems that are consumed by lovely words

speaking about the very first love

and being so tremendously delighted

but how can it be

that I always ask myself

why I cannot write about these things

and why it is even harder for me to read it

my mind might be stubborn I guess

or maybe I am not ready for this

but then I remember

that I have experienced nothing else but abusive and toxic love

with nights full of tears and sorrow

and the worst heartbreak

so how could I write about something

or even endure writing something

that I don’t know so far