Gewonnen

Wenn ich dünn bin, dann hab ich gewonnen. 

A haiku on haikus

Haikus are a way 

For me to express myself 

In just three short lines 

Carefree

I wish I could seem

As carefree as you seem to

Be every damn day 

Perhaps the Blood

Perhaps the blood in

My veins wishes to escape

As much as I do. 

You Only Love Me

To me, you're the frenzied gasp I make as your fingers first trace my skin. The moan as you bite my neck and thighs. The sigh as you push your lips to mine. You're also four hours of ecstasy then four days of depression. A few moments of feeling wanted then an enternity of loneliness. A call asking me to come over then a conversation telling me to go. You only like me for one thing and that's the way I look when I'm lying in your bed naked and panting. You only like me when your fingers are in my mouth and my back is arched and I cry out with every thrust. You only want me when one hand is wrapped in my hair and the other grips the blanket and you're pushing my head up and down to a rhythm you decided. You only care about me when you're clutching my breast and your teeth are pinching my nipple and your hand is buried between my legs. My moans fuel you to greater heights. And you reach them. That's the first, the best, the longest, you say and I parrot your words with records of my own, the first, the best, the longest. And you smile and we go back for round two of an infinite boxing match of sorts that I only started because I was lonely. But no matter how many times we box, how many times I present my body, fresh and willing, to you, I'll never be more than someone you relegate to the corner of your brain labeled "of least importance". And no matter how right your arms feel around me, no matter what your kisses ignite inside me, no matter how many times your touches make me scream, you'll always ask me to go afterwards. Because this relationship isn't about the jokes I tell. Because you couldn't care less about how my day was. Because you don't want to go out for a dinner date. Because you only love me when we're making love. 

The Sane Girls

“I bet you got bored
of the sane girls

who slept at 10pm
and had three meals a day

and I bet you got bored
of the sane girls

who had a happy childhood
and a genuine smile

and maybe that would explain
how someone like you
got with someone like me

because you were looking
for a sad girl with a grey soul
and a broken heart
weren’t you?

you were looking
for a girl who could
forget to sleep or eat
for three days straight

simply because she was too
scared of her own damn mind
and all the demons living in it

but people aren’t toys
you can play with and put down
when you are bored

and I’ll tell you a thing
you probably do not know
about sad girls with grey souls
and broken hearts:

once you tell them
you love them
at 3am
while they are smoking
cigarette after cigarette

your words get stuck
in their lungs
like the smoke they inhale
and they invade their blood

like a poison

and just like that,
you become part of them,
part of their infinite sadness
forever or 

until the last drop of
the very same blood
you invaded with your
sweet sweet words

flows out of their
lifeless body

I bet I scared you off
with these words

and I bet
you already miss
the sane girls.”

Even Though I'm Nothing to You

You have a way of

Wrapping your arms around me 

Making me feel whole

In Your Arms

Goddamnit, no one

Holds me in their arms like you

For once I feel safe

Thighs, Throat, and Heart

Bite marks on my thighs

Moans lingering in my throat 

Still an empty heart

Marks

The marks on my neck 

Tell the story of two boys

Who pressed their lips there 

The Back Seat

I'm in the back seat

Some other boy on my skin 

Not thinking of you. 

Kiss Me Hard

You kiss me hard but

You said you didn't love me

I can taste your lies 

I Wasn't Thinking

I wasn't thinking

This sort of thing would happen

If we were alone

Pull Me in Close

You pull me in close

Forgotten feelings cry out 

Your skin touching mine

We Crack our Bones

We crack our bones to

Grind the marrow to dust which

We throw to the wind 

Ich rauche

Ich rauche Kippe um Kippe, mit der Hoffnung, diese Gefühle würden sterben.... und ich am besten dazu. 

I smoke cigarette after cigarette with the hope that this feeling will die... And I maybe I will too. 

Maybe it's Because

Maybe it's because I miss you so much that I put on my craziest outfit and went to one of those wild dance parties where people lose their bodies and find their souls. Maybe that's why I found myself pressed up against a boy, my eyes shut, my body floating through space, my head ensnared in the music. Maybe that's why when he took me by the hand and led me from the room to the empty parking lot I simply nodded my head and climbed into the temporary privacy of my car with him to fog up the windows as he kissed marks into my neck. Maybe that's why I gave this boy my number and prayed for a text or a call or a smoke signal or something that told me I wasn't worthless and used up to him. Maybe that's why when he did text me and suggest I come over to finish what we started I laughed happily and agreed to do whatever he liked. Maybe that's why when he stopped texting and never answered I started checking my phone constantly because perhaps, perhaps I'd missed the ping of a new string of words to comfort me. Maybe that's why when he finally began speaking again and suggested I come to his friends house that night I agreed and dolled up and drove an hour for him to let me into the house and say his friends on vacation, it's just us two. Maybe that's why when he once again took my hand and led me to a bedroom I followed, dropping my shirt on the way and closing the door behind me so the dog couldn't hear me moan. Maybe that's why when we finished and walked back out and he sat down on the sofa and I sat next to him and he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, I felt like the world sat in alignment for a moment with all my stars and I swear I could've stayed like that forever. Maybe that's why when the door opened and his friends walked in smoking something hand rolled and hazy and he suggested we go outside to smoke a cigarette under the stars I followed. Maybe that's why as we leaned against my car and his glorious arms were around me and he was breathing deep breaths into my messy hair and he said maybe I could go home then because he promised his friends he'd hang tonight but we'll definitely spend time together again, I laughed and said of course and gathered my things. Maybe that's why when he kissed me goodbye and as an afterthought asked for two of my cigarettes and a promise to meet again, I complied, once again giving him everything he wanted. Maybe that's why when the next morning he texted me asking how I was and was I sore because he sure was, I messaged him back and we talked for hours. Maybe that's why after that day he stopped speaking to me or texting me or calling me or sending smoke signals to me and I felt so goddamn alone again it's almost unbearable. Maybe all of this is because I needed someone, anyone, to love me and hold me because you said you just couldn't anymore because I cried too much and laughed not enough and always did what I was asked.  

Stupid Boys

Stupid boys who will never text you 

back

The cute ones you met on the

dancefloor

Who hold onto your hips as you 

sway 

And turn you around for a deep long 

kiss

Who nip at your neck and squeeze at your

breasts

And tell you little white lies like "you're 

beautiful"

In hopes that you'll lead them out to your

car

To let them reach under your 

clothes 

In hopes that you'll reach under 

theirs

Because that's just who we are:

The whisperer

The listener

The enticer

The follower

The pleader 

The relenter

You

Me