Chaïmae L.


He's entangled between the tendinous cords of my heart and my soul , he's the emotion I can't describe, the hue I can't fathom, the elusive note of music I frustratingly keep missing, he's the lost piece to an invisible puzzle , the fence to an undescribable obstacle, he's a gentle disturbance, a bittersweet coffee I can't get tired of ,I can't find it , I can't get to the end of the string that's linking me to him , he's a violent breeze of sentiment, I feel so much when it comes to him that to me, he's not just my person, he's my constant sensation, my everlasting passion.

"Where are you my love?"

One ledge, gusts of wind, and a delicate far away sea sparkle,

Memories lingering across the vast coast, resembling the last shimmering symphony of lines beneath the sun, a fleeting, vet everlasting sentiment.

I can feel the deep loneliness, die desperate refusal of any acknowledgement.

A solitude so strangely familiar, a clutching, blistering sorrow refusing to let go, Aching for a love that I cannot save, come back to me my love, do not part so far away,

Leaving me with nothing but acute memory, why must your love be so temporary?

Come back to me my love, abandoned in such a way I can't march away, I can't help but cry your name, whilst my hope withers and my skin shivers.

Where are you, my love? Yearning for you I cannot possibly do any longer,

Because as the sun retreats beyond the distant hills, Itoo, fade like whispers swallowed by the chills.


How could I ignore such passion?

Between the two of you, surely. I didn’t belong

For the room of loving you, is far too crowded.


Behind a glass window, there I stand.

Hands clutching and eyes tearing.

I witness your eyes beaming,

With a smile on your face, so rare I can't help but stare.

Those memories of yours flash by She stands beside you, while I cry.

1 find myself invisible, between the shadows of your past.

Between a conflicted boy, and a resentful girl

Your time together went by too fast.

Here, in the present, behind the glass It's my fault for being so short sighted.


As i walk down her forest, i see flowers Of all colors of all shapes and scents

High trees „carved quotes and initials on their wood

I see broken bottles of ink and torn paper I see teddy bears ,posters, and lipsticks

Colorful disks of all kind of music genre and many unsent letters

I smell a citrusy peachy savoury fragrance over here and an oddly comforting caffeine aroma over there its all so overwhelming, almost confusing

As 1 go in further 1 find a cabin when i open the oddly decorated door i find a valley of seemingly endless collected antiques

Old paintings, bizarre jewellery, books,a lot of books ,cheap looking clocks, red ceramics.

In a dark hidden spot of the room i notice unfinished poetry spread on the oaky flooring along with lyrics sheets

Further into the cabin i face an astonishing view through the surprisingly immense window

Despite the thick fog that covers everything beyond my eyesight 1 catch the glimpse of many separate roads

Some of which blinding light shines through, others hidden by gigantic intimidating trees. And I can't help but wonder which route of mine am I about to enter


The hardwood floor is bitterly


Faded-orange-coloured leaves are laying on the dusty ground,

And the coffee machine is broken. The first aid kit on the top shelf is empty,it has been for a while now.

While sitting on the floor, I wonder if I should just have tea instead,or if I should get a new kit.

The house was now flooded,with unwavering, raw,aching emotion or with disturbingly red liquid,I couldn't tell.

The wind was still blowing,so brutally it made my ears ring,my mind suddenly became lighter, not making me feel so ill anymore.

Suddenly,the world around me blurred,

It instantly became so much quieter, almost peaceful,

Making me feel as though,to this wind I will forever be faithful.

The faded-orange-coloured autumn leaves are now stained with a deep shade of red.

As a gust of wind creeped into the room,I felt a lancinating pain surging through my wrists,

Along with an usual feeling of relief,as though the coldness helped with the hopelessness,

As though the bleak weather that was storming on the outside, cooled its sharpness.