and the rest is your imagination

I am ok

In these days
my emotions arise
all at once – 
for I cannot grasp 
what occurs my mind.
I am dazed by myself,
my sensing halted.

I cannot feel, 
I am not present 
in this here and now, 
the stride overhauls 
me every single day. 

Behind it this life 
drags me along.

Today passes by, 
just like yesterday 
and the day before, 
like every day 
in these days also 
tomorrow will likely 
elapse from my mind.

So, I am ok.

Masquerade

Abandonment
is my deepest fear.
When I feel lonely 
the sirens chant and
evoke my loop of gloom. 
In my head they perform 
all the nightmares.
Clothed in ugliest masquerade 
with dreadful grimaces
I‘m forced to join in 
their spiteful chants
I look down on myself
and I abandon myself.
I lost all control.

I miss the night

All at once I‘m hurled to
the other side of the throb.
Overabundance seeped away,
and overindulgence ruptured.
Elation yielded to the morning after.
This temper of perpetual sundays 
coffered me in a limbo of sobriety 
where abandonment is pervasive.
I still remember the guarding dark, 
in its embrace I used to close 
my eyes and confide to the charm 
of the night poised from fascination.
Where once I undammed my lust, 
fell for the frenzy to release 
all inhibition until dawn.

You made me

You stole my life – 
my being 
my belonging
my deeds
my creations
my strength
my legacy.
You reduced me to
someone with circumstances, 
someone with obstacles,
someone with a distress, 
someone with a neediness 
someone to worry about, 
someone to take care of.
Your careful actions, 
your pityful expressions, 
your avoidance,
your talks from behind 
confront me every day 
with my new actuality, 
with my new role:
I am a cutback to dilemma.
I am a sanitary case.
I am a mental invalid.
I am a subject to pity.

You made me.

My backdoor

I’m leaving it ajar, just in case.
I have this backdoor to always 
keep a veiled way out.
For I never get engaged.
instead I conform to fit in.
Hence, I neglect my feelings
my desires are invisible – 
in the pursuit of belonging. 
For I cannot trust others.
I’ve been told that people only 
ever want to do me harm.
So I never get completely 
emotionally attached to anyone.
For I want to please everyone.
My own value is only the sum 
of all expectations of me.
To be recognized, to be loved 
I leave my true self behind.
For I’m not worth anything if 
I can’t please everyone.
I never please myself, 
I cannot identify my feelings,
I cannot express my needs.
I’m leaving it ajar, just in case. 
I have this backdoor to always 
keep a veiled way out
to crawl back inside myself.

When my sirens call

Whenever I try not 
to think my thoughts 
are becoming the loudest.

My sirens appear, 
their deafening chants 
dim my sentiments, 
they captivate my being,
through a bullhorn they 
evoke sheer inferiority
I cannot defy.

I demean myself
again and again and 
more and more, 
I am not worth 
anything, to no one.
I am inferior.

Fighting the sirens 
is fighting myself and
every day my old self
succumbs their drowning 
calls a little more.

He revived my lust

He came up to me,
he looked at me, 
he desired me,
he aroused me,
he sparked in me 
a lust long sealed.

He kissed me,
he undressed me,
he touched me gently,
he unfolded sensuality
all over my body,
he revived in me
a desire long faded.

Then I look at him, 
our gazes intertwine. 
I embrace him and
receive him within me.

I confide into the fusion
with this stranger‘s body.
Relief bursts out of me,
exhausted and alone I fall 
back to the cold ground.

&

Far too often we 
merely think in either-or 
it is either you or me 
me or you. 
Can I have it both, 
me and you – 
you and me? 
Maybe if we dupe the ego 
that favors me over you.

Waiting for Salvation

I am a muser
washed up here,
only vested in fancy.

I evade those squares
who comdemned me, 
after they killed my visions.

I pursue affection
and churn in immensity, 
then actuality unfurls.

I still am that damned,
a fairy with trimmed wings,
in search for cockaigne.

I just want to dream again
and finally feel home
in this one current life.

Boyhood

I feel your disgrace
when I‘m with a man
when I hold his hand
when I kiss him
when I lay with him
when I am among
the likes of me –
that you think
have tainted me.

I never feel my true self
without your condemnation.
When will I be enough?

and the rest is your imagination

about

OOOH SO SHORT is a platform to present my personal and self-conscious micro prose that entertains, that provokes your thoughts and that inspires – with a minimum amount of words to stimulate your imagination.

Because writing helps us to process experiences and to become more aware of ourselves and our environment.

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Schließe dich 2 anderen Abonnenten an

the author

Ralf

Based in Berlin I write and draw about my everyday impressions and thoughts. I earn my living as a head of content, planning digital communication for e-commerce and inspiring people to achieve their goals.