Untitled...I miss you Like a fish without it’s water Like a lamb without it’s meadow Like a gnome without it’s mushroom I miss youUntitled...
I need you Like the tree needs the leaf Like the sky needs the oxygen Like the earth needs the universe I need you
I want you Like the bear wants the honey Like the clock wants to know the time Like the baby-bird wants a mother I want you
I love you Like the sailor loves the sea Like the eye loves the tear Like the sun loves the moon I love you
And I know it will l
DoubtsI’m broken overcome taken down defeatedDoubts
don’t know who to trust and who to distrust don’t know who’s playing with my mind and who’s not.
I’m gone disappeared my soul so damaged so hurt so much pain so much pain
don’t know who to believe don’t know who to not believe don’t know who’s trying to hurt me and who’s not
I’m murdered dead my soul killed by doubts never to relive again.
To youI’m drowning, I’m crawling, I’m shaking, I’m breaking.To you
Feeling so tired, so sad, so alone, so angry, but so scared, so dead, but still I’m alive.
I’m begging, I’m crying, I’m screaming, I’m dying.
Holding on to nothing, or to something invisible; someone invisible, holding on to you.
I’m still alive because you prevented me from dying, because you always found me someone else who cared for me, who I cared for, and with that you saved me. &nbs
ReflectionI’ve tried to avoid my reflection in the mirror for so long Don’t know what’s wrong with me what’s wrong with usReflection
I’ve tried to avoid my reflection in your eyes for so long Afraid of what I’ll see what I’ve become
I laugh, I cry I care, I despise I love, I hate I live, I die
I’ve tried to avoid everything I see that reminds my heart of you and me of me and you
I laugh, I cry, I care, I despise I love, I hate I live, I die
I look, I see I feel, I
En toen had ik DeviantArt...
Tired
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Poetry comes from the soul, by writing, you allow those who will never know you, see pieces that even you can't see.
No I'm not Norwegian, I'm actually Dutch but I moved to Norway a month ago o.O
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Poetry comes from the soul, by writing, you allow those who will never know you, see pieces that even you can't see.
It's okay here, the people are nice and the weather's not too bad
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All my thoughts are with you forever, until the day we'll be back together...
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Poetry comes from the soul, by writing, you allow those who will never know you, see pieces that even you can't see.
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