One day you’ll miss me

One day, you’ll miss me.

You’ll lie in bed after a long day and stare at your phone thinking how it’d be great if you could talk to me right now and you’ll wake up the next day and beg to wake up to one of my annoying texts. You’ll look up at the sky every rainy day and starry night and remember how I used to tell you how much I love those and how I’m there now to repeat it again. You’ll get yourself in trouble and think it’s okay because I’ll be there only to realise I won’t be solving your problems anymore. I won’t even listen to them. You’ll get shivers at the memory of how cold I was when I left you, after all that warmth I gave you. Your heart will ache when you think of me and your hand will reach for your shirt and pull on it. You’ll want to rip your heart apart after it’s empty of my love. You’ll find yourself staring in the distance and expect me to pop out from behind the corner with a smile, but I’ll never come.

I’ll never come back again to you.

I Wanted

In that moment, I can guarantee you that I wanted to land the sweetest of kisses on your lips, only for you to grab me by the waist and pull me against you. I wanted you to press your lips against mine, I wanted you to kiss me like I was air and you couldn’t breathe, I wanted you to grab at my shirt as if you couldn’t stand its presence, I wanted to feel my hands behind your neck, maybe pull your hair, I wanted to hear your heavy breathing and hear you grunt as you force yourself to part away from me.

I wanted to see you run your fingers through your hair and hear you whispering a cuss word as you wondered just what exactly happened; just what exactly have you done. I wanted to see you asking me if we could cut this meeting short because you couldn’t stand this right now.

Later, I wanted to hear the sound of my phone indicating me I had a new text message and I wanted to see that it was sent by you. I wanted to read that you wanted to meet me to put things to a point; to figure things out because you were so confused and lost. I wanted to agree, meet you again and hear you apologize as you confessed that you might actually like me more than you initially thought you did. I wanted to see you hesitantly yet gently approaching me. I wanted to feel your forehead against mine, your breath tickling my skin and your hands on me. I wanted to see your face as I told you that, unfortunately, I didn’t feel the same.

I wanted to destroy you in the most excruciating way.

Chemical Industry

I thought I’d never feel this agony,

Taking advantage of my fragility,

Making me lose my sanity.


Is this some sort of trickery?

Why do I crave you with such avidity and so sinfully,

Even after I denied our affinity,

And replaced it with apathy.


I am beginning to doubt my ability,

My system can’t reach unanimity,

And I can’t stand this antinomy.

Stop,stop this chemical industry.

”Letting go of someone is a process, not an event.”

”Letting go of someone is a process, not an event.”

Free translation of ”Se détacher de quelqu’un est un processus et non un évènement.” It’s a quote from my psychology manual at school (no, I’m not majoring in psychology) .

Take your time to heal and don’t be ashamed of your feelings. Take care.

The way he makes me feel

The way he makes me feel is something I have never experienced before.

I’ve mastered many feelings and emotions, but this one is rather tricky to grasp. It’s like a mutant virus that is as persistent as a cancer. It keeps on changing and adapting to everything I throw its way. It grows on me, its roots getting deeper and deeper, grasping every last one of my cells in its path.  It spreads like wildfire and burns me without mercy. It squeezes my heart harder and harder like it’s trying to make every last drop of blood pour out of it. It crushes every last inch of my lungs and creeps at my throat.  It sends chills down my spine and makes me shake like the most violent of earthquakes, but in the same time I feel like even the absolute zero won’t stop the lava flowing in my veins from boiling. It hinders my movement to the point I think I may be made of stone.  It makes salted rain fall on my cheeks; cheeks part of a face that has adopted the color of snow. It makes my eyes open wide like they can’t believe what they are seeing and when they can’t take it anymore, they seal shut.

The way he makes me feel creates a silent hurricane in my head.

The way he makes me feel takes me out of reality and drowns me into sheer terror.

When love turns to hate (Part 1)

To come to hate someone you have loved for a long time is something quite unbelievable. 
Back in the days when your loved ones actually payed attention to you, the thought of losing them at the hands of hate was unimaginable. Back in those days, you all needed eachother and you vowed to never let anybody down. But it was a lie. One huge lie. 
They all used you to proclaim themselves “friends”, to forget how lonely they were in this world, to reach their goals, goals you wouldn’t even have dreamed about in your worst nightmares, yet you, stupid you, you cared for them and you really loved them from the bottom of your heart. 
Who could have known all this love could be turned into hate in a matter of mere months, nothing to compare to the years of friendship you all have with eachother? Who could have known it would be because they would do the thing they vowed to never do: let you down. 
After all you’ve been through together? Yes, after all you’ve been through together.


Nemesis (noun)
: an opponent or enemy that is very difficult to defeat

Full Definition

1, capitalized : the Greek goddess of retributive justice
2 a : one that inflicts retribution or vengeance
   b : a formidable and usually victorious rival or opponent
3  a : an act or effect of retribution 
     b : bane 

Source: Merriam-Webster