i can and i will

You were the one I read in books about,
the one I saw on tv, the boy out of love movies,
sadly my life was never romantic fiction.

Every coldplay song was written about you,
i still can't listen to most of them.You were everything I was never brave enough to be,
I wasn’t even brave enough to tell you.

The first one I got close to, the first one I trusted more than anyone else,
the first one I loved more than one could ever love oneself,
the first one who saw everything,
the first one who broke me to pieces I never could put back together again.

The one after that was everything I knew I was as well,
but louder and more carefree,
I waited 6 years until I told him,
he answered not loud enough and careless.

I never wanted to leave, you wanted to keep me around,
I wanted to be yours, you wanted me to be one of them,
I wanted everything, you wanted most parts,
I left, you never ran after me.

We discussed a lot, we fought with passion and aggression,
we couldn’t stand each other’s guts,
I miss you so much.

For the first time someone chose me before I chose them.
You were a lot of my first times.
You chose me over her.
You offered me your everything before i even chose you. 

We chose eachother for a while. 

But then you chose someone else over me.

I knew you were like me from the start, we got along fantastically
and seeing myself in you made me see so much more
about the person I am and I aspire to be.
Sadly you couldn’t stand the fact that I was just like you,
because you hated the way you look and couldn't stand mirrors.

You did know
that you didn't know if you wanted me
and i did know,
that i didnt want someone
who had to think twice before choosing me.

The one who gave up before trying,
the one who keeps coming around but is too afraid to stay,
the one I want to trust the most or even just again,
the one who will probably hurt just like everyone before.

1. 

just because he tells you that he loves you
doesn't mean that he'll carry your heart 
the way it needs to be held

2. 

if he just looks, but never listens, 

if he touches your boobs but not your heart,

that means he just wants what’s underneath the layers of clothes, 
not what's underneath your ribs,
he just wants between your legs, 
not between the pages of your diary.

3. 

he should always love everything of you,
when you're wearing white cotton or black lace, 

everything on your sleeve or nothing at all, 

handle your body sometimes rough, but your soul always gentle

4. 

If he likes your pretty smile, bite him 

and ask him if he likes your sharp teeth as well. 
Your love should leave marks, but never scars,
see if he'd bleed for you.

If he’s into biting it’s a bonus.

5. 

if he leaves you and comes back again and again 

and tells you he still loves you 

and then disappears again 

and then keeps coming back 

like a wave on the beach 

or the waterfall of blood in your pants every month, 

don’t drown in old memories and new found interest, 

don’t shed tears, but blood, 

treat him like your period: 
take what you need to numb the pain, 
eat chocolate 
and let him suffer.

What you need

I’m a now or never kinda girl
An all or nothing kinda girlfriend
Not an almost, never a maybe.

I’m not the person you message on facebook because it’s the afternoon and you’re bored in your room and in the mood for some light chitty-chat.
I’m the one you call at 4am, because you need me and no one else, the one you write to - first thing after you wake up, the one whose face you see before you go to sleep, because you want to continue dreaming about me.

I’m a yes-I-want-to, i-said-no-and-i-mean-it and a of-course-i-can- kinda woman,
not a we-could-try, I’ll-think-about-it or if-you’re-up-for-it human being.

I'm a full-time-job, not a hobby,
i'm cotton underwear, a ripped lace dress with army boots,
a of pile hand-written pages, sitcoms and a of bottle of anti-panic-pills, 

not a push-up-bra, fancy blouse or running shoes,
no glass of wine, postcard-writer, shot of vodka or high literature.

I’m not wife material, I’m life material, I’m not an accessory,
I’m a human being, the princess in the shining armour,
I’m not sunshine and rainbows, I’m a thunderstorm and mist.
I bleed rose petals and cry poison, I’m made of fairy dust and iron,
I’ll be your life saver and your death.

I can be what you need, but I’ll never be what you want.

What i want 

I always thought that my biggest problem in life is, that I don’t know what I want.
When you don’t know what you want, you don’t know if you like what you get.
When you don’t know what you want, you don’t know you how to react.
When you don’t know what you want, you’ll settle down for anything nad never try harder.
When you don’t know what you want, you never wonder, if that’s really it.

Now I know, that my biggest problem in life is, that some people don’t want me
to know what I want, because as long as I’m unsure, they can influence me.
As long as I’m unsure, they’ll pressure me into doing something (or someone)
As long as I’m unsure, the people who know what they want, have the power.
As long as I’m unsure, I have no control.
As long as I’m unsure, I won’t say no. or yes. Or anything. At all.

I always thought, that it’s a burden for people that I know what I want.
That I appear close-minded, unspontaneous, stubborn, boring, because I can answer their questions without thinking about it, without considering them or their optinion on my life.
If she knows what she wants, she won't compromise.
If she knows what she wants, she won't ever change her mind.
If she knows what she wants, she’s a stuck-up-bitch.
If she knows what she wants, she reached so much more than I did.

Now I know, that knowing what you want is more efficient and less pain for everybody.
Knowing what you want is confidence and reaching your goals.
Knowing what you want it self-respect and strength.
Knowing what you want is the abilty to tell others what you need.
Knowing what you want and expressing that, is a right you have.

What I want and what I need

It’s easy to know what you want, an iphone, money, sex,
but hard to find out what you need, a true friend, self-love, a nap.
it’s satisfying if you take what you want.
and it’s fun to try out what you need.
It’s frustrating to not get what you want, that one job, that one dress, that one girl.
but deadly if you don’t get what you need, food, love, freedom.
It’s good to know what you need,
but even better to say out loud, that you want it.

It’s not my fault that he’s afraid.

I’m also afraid, but it wouldn't have stopped me.

I’m easy to love.

I’m just hard to like.

Maybe i should have tried harder.
He didnt try at all.

Loving me is more spontaneous, less of a guarantee, easier to get over, 
you can just let go of me anytime.
Once you earned my love, i won't leave.

I can still smell you. 
It makes me angry that your smell still calms me down.

In general I’m very angry. 

So angry that I just had to write, without even knowing what i want to say.

Just moving my fingers, bathing in the illusion that i'm letting go of the pain 
if I just puke up enough words and pretty metaphors.

Please let this work.

I realized that I’m not scared of falling in love or the pain of rejection, 

I’m scared of going numb, of the pain overshadowing the love and of me getting so lost in the pain, that I’m never able to open up again and feel love, when the right one appears.

As long as every new love outweighs the pain of the last break-up,
I’m telling myself that still full of hope. 
As long as I’m able to always getting over someone, to keep moving on, 
I’m positive that I can make it through 678 frogs for that one prince.

But what if I can’t make it?

What if I break before I ever reach one of the more truer loves?

What if it’s not worth it and just agony and rage all the way until I’m old and alone forever?

It’s such a cliche-thing to say: 'it’s not your fault, it’s him. 
He wasn’t ready for something real, You’re worth so much more.'

But what if that's not true?

If I were enough, he would have chosen me.

If I were what he needed or even more, he wouldn’t have let me go.

If I were worth something, I wouldn’t be laying in my bed, 
all by myself, crying over a guy who said that 
there’s nothing wrong with me, but also nothing right.

Q1: Is it me or is it you?

A1: I don’t know. I know, that I don’t know a lot, but I’m actually not sure. Maybe it’s not the right time in my life. Maybe everything would be different if we met a few months ago or in a few years.

Maybe it’s you.  Maybe you want something I cant offer you. Maybe I want something that you cant give me. Maybe it’s me. Maybe I need someone else.  Someone who makes me feel different. About myself, about life. Maybe you need someone who makes you feel better. Maybe you need someone who feels about you the way you feel about them. Maybe I need someone like that.

(R1: We could try. Maybe we’re not that different in our needs and abilities. Maybe we’re both not that easy to handle, but we could just give it a chance.)

EDIT: actual answer: it's not you...well, maybe a little bit. but i can't put my finger on it. I don't know.

Q2: You could have had everything. Friendship, casual sex, the whole happily-ever-after-relationship-thing. Why isn’t anything of that right for you?

A2: Again…I don’t know. I could never just like you platonically, but at the same time I know that a relationship won’t work out. You deserve more… and I deserve less…drama.  And just sex would break your heart.

(R2: I could love you platonically or just like you as a boyfriend. We could open our pants or just our hearts.We could have had it all and now we’re just nothing.)

actual anwer: none of that appeals to my.and i don't think you would enjoy any of that...don't know.

Q3: What are you so scared of?

A3: I’m not sure…I don’t know…Maybe I don’t even want to know…I guess I’m scared of hurting you. Of doing something or wanting something and then changing my mind. About being impulsive and unreliable and shit. Maybe I’m scared of ruining what we have….had…
Maybe I’m scared of getting hurt…again. Maybe I’m scared of opening up and getting fucked in the head again. Maybe I’m scared of not even being able to open up anymore because I’m already so fucked up.
Maybe reality can never be as good as the things are in our imagination.

(R3: You know what – I’m scared. I’m so fucking scared. For both of us. Mostly for my sanity. I’m so scared of getting hurt, it drives me insane. But you know what else? I’m more in love with you than I am in fear.)

actual answer: the best question. you won't ever get a good answer for that. all i know is that i'm not scared of you hurting me.that's at least part of my answer.

Ich sage es.

Sätze sprudeln aus mir heraus,

Wortwellen überschlagen sich,

großer Wal, verschlucke mich,

Dunkelheit, vergesse mich,

Worte in meinem Kopf,

komm schon, spuck mich aus.

Mein Gesicht ist nass,

Gischt von unten, Regen von oben, Tränen von innen,

wisch es auf, rutsch nicht darauf aus,

geh doch wieder nach Haus

nein, ich will nicht raus,

lass ihn in deinen Augen schwimmen.

Zieh mich runter,hinab

tiefer, härter, schneller,

ich kann dich fast berühren.

Du musst meine Seele führen

erreicht dich nicht,

zieht sich wieder zurück,

ich hab dich verführt,

du glaubst du hast etwas gespürt.

 Bitte lass mich herein, nimm mich auf,

das ganze nimmt jetzt seinen Lauf,

wurde neu getauft,

nenn mich dein,

denn das könnte ich sein,

öffne mich,

verlier dich nicht

ertrinken oder verdursten?

Betrunken, berauscht, besinnungslos,

auf dem Schoß,

im Hals den Kloß,

legen wir los –

Goldenes Band um deinen vierten Finger,

könnte dein Rettungsring sein, 

doch das Gewicht lässt dich sinken,

wir können einander nur noch winken,

vom kalten Wasser kalte Füße bekommen,

sind wir noch berauscht oder nur noch benommen,

wo sind die Schwimmflügel?

Drück mir die Luft aus den Lungenflügeln,

lass mich fliegen.

Den sicheren Hafen sucht man auf der offenen See vergeblich,

ich wollte nur den Leuchtturm sehen,

stattdessen musstest du dort stehen,

es war fast nur ein Versehen.

Du wusstest nicht wie man brennt,

nur wie man rennt,

habe ich dich doch schon längst ausgelöscht.

Strecke die schlaffen Arme nach mir aus,

drücke alle die Säfte aus mir raus,

fahre zärtlich über meine Haut,

Küsse mich, küsste mich, Küste…

Ich muss keine Welle sein, um an den Klippen gebrochen zu werden.

I. 

When I first met you, I felt the need to puke a rainbow.

You’re everything, every colour, while my world is black and white,

so i want you to bleed all over it, so that my life may gain in colour, 

I’m your white canvas - paint me!

You’re  a dark red, like the lips that I need on my dick,
and a heavy black that i need to cover up my dirty thoughts.
A deep blue, with thoughts that are just deep enough too imply intelligence, but not deeper than mine,
And a soft green, because you love nature and remind me of a newly born fawn, a pretty butterfly, 

a sexy cat - because yeah, of course cats are sexualised.

I think that your cynical side is a fun role you play to attract men, because what else could you do with your life and that your child-like wonder is actually your true self.

You have a good fashion taste with feminine but simple clothes, that cover up your body just enough to give me material for my wet dreams -

But you are never out shopping.

You’re make-up is always on point, even when you cry -

But you don’t care about superficial things like that.

II.

I’m just a normal boy, white, male, cis, friendly personality, not the best-looking,

and i think that I need a girl on my side, to be worth something - 

so please be my accessories!

You are an innocent angel which has fallen from heaven and broke a wing on her way to me, 

I could fix it with starring at you, while madly fantasizing about our future.

I want to save you as my project, fix you so that you can take care of my problems, 

make love to you, so that I’ll stop hating myself.

I’m what you need - because love heals everything, even though you don’t want to be loved by me, even though all you need is a therapist and real friends, even though my love is not true love, but a temporary teenage obsession - my love is the answer for everything.

This idea is a broken record.

They might think her song has been played too many times, but has never been heard by the right ears, but we’re tired of it, please stop playing it over and over again!

III.

I have this picture of my perfect partner, this small, graceful pixie on my side, 

shrinking while i bloom, pushing me to achieve my goals while having none of her own.

You won’t open up about your tragic childhood or get over your past relationship, because you're hollow on the inside and written to sit and wait rather than to get up and move on.

There might be some paradox in your personality, for example how you don’t care, but you’re my care-giver, how you don’t have a background story, but also no future, how you actually can't exist, but you live only for me.

But the lack of character development is no problem for me, because it’s my talent to see your flaws as cute quirks and to overlook mine completely.

IV.

Don’t be sorry for not being perfect, be human.
Your hair breaks when you dye it too much, 

your heart breaks, when you give it away too many times 

and so do condoms.

V.

You’re supposed to be my dream, but why does it feel like such a nightmare?