Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Fey Dec 2020
The night isn't gentle anymore.
Its darkness has a vice-like grip,
shattered, unwelcome
on her fragile throat,
leading to a crimson door,
full of destructive, intrusive thoughts about
sleeping
with eyes never wanting to open
again.

The night no longer offers rest
for her shattered, melancholical, heavy head
to gently abide the terrors of
turning silver to red on her already scarred flesh,
beucase life seems to stay
just like that.

© fey (30/12/20)
inspired by LETTRE À ÉLISE | by Efisio Cross
288 · Feb 2020
envy towards a cat
Fey Feb 2020
The way you're sleeping with no worry in your head,
while I'm crying and weeping endlessly in my bed,
makes me wonder ever so slightly
"What the hell is going on in my psyche?"
You, a wonderful and humble creature,
I'm begging you to be my teacher.
I'm holding on to this heavy burden,
while you willingly embrace the uncertain.
As i am gently stroking that fur of yours,
the turmoil in my head is ending its wars.
And though I am aware that you're in no need of affection,
your glistening gaze is still seeking for my attention.
I'll ask myself "Are you lonely too?",
but your eyes wander to somewhere else anew.
I f*cking envy you.
But something deep inside me tells me
that as soon as I'll leave your side mercilessly
you will look after me sadly
and feel pity towards me

really, really badly.

and finally,
maybe

understand me?

© fey (21/12/19)
287 · Aug 2020
the dunhill girl
Fey Aug 2020
she inhaled happiness like a dunhill cigarette,
smoke lingering on her cherry-red lips,
eyes vibrant of her last lover's kiss.

but she could not fathom mundane affects
of short-tempered love, masked as the ordinary desire of men.

no one asked from where her dull smile and the fine, white lines on her arms originated from,
nor did anyone cared enough about the numerous bruises,
ironically aligned like
a blossoming sunset between her thighs.

she was just the briefly glowing ember
in one's snow cold and harsh december.

© fey (23/08/20)
sadness
286 · Sep 2020
serotonin is a butterfly
Fey Sep 2020
i'm feeling,
i'm dreaming
exceptionally lonely today

stumbeling from phrase to phrase,
like a toddler learning to
get used to the endless space
of walking.

serotonin is a fleeting butterfly
as equally lost as the moth that died
while diasappearing in the crescent moonlight

i need a better molecule structure,
maybe a more sophisticated formula
to deminish the activity of the stupid receptors

i just want to be happy.

© fey (14/09/20)
Fey Jan 2021
The auburn flicker silently danced across her half-closed eyelids. A barely noticeable smile ghosted around her lips, as her empty eyes bore into the flaming core of the candle. He watched her, mesmerized, in undefinable awe of what was going on behind that small barrier of flesh and bone above her eyebrows.

“Have you ever wanted something so insignificant to swallow the world as a whole?”, she whispered, eyes still locked on the tiny flame, caged inside the glass of the candle. He couldn’t manage to answer. The only visible response was irritation, unfolding between the tiny space of his eyebrows.

But then her smile widened, overshadowed by immeasurable melancholy.

And then he understood.

© fey (18/01/21)
278 · Dec 2020
shooting star
Fey Dec 2020
if i point a gun at the sky
will I have a shooting star?
because I can no longer believe in a lie,
spoken by imaginary gods from afar.
so I am going to create my own wish
with weapons made by human hands.
at least I can count on them,
for they will never diminish my devious plans.

© fey (12/12/20)
276 · Jul 2022
Home
Fey Jul 2022
The skies gleam soft, spun by cloudy filaments;
Seven vertical contrails, pearlwhite, pale;
Our time together; liquid, trickling away,
the color of alabaster, corundum, topaz -
and you have gone lost, in our broken hourglass.

© fey (25/07/22)
268 · Aug 2020
flavorless anxietea
Fey Aug 2020
I fear the moment the car key triggers the radio music to stop
   whenever it is pulled out of its ignition lock
and the moment the other one opens  the door to an echoless house with
   silence creeping out loud.

I thought that restless bees resided among the unoccupied spaces in our garden
   but it seems like they have chosen my hollow mind
   to settle in for another honey bargain.

With delicate movements and diligent striving
   they sweeten my flavorless anxietea
and reduce what's left of my juvenile entity.

© fey (27/07/20), (14/08/20)
I wrote this a few weaks ago when I felt anxious in my car and didn't want the music to stop suddenly. I was scared of the silence and returning to our house alone, since no one is present at the moment. I tried to capture this emotions, hope you might enjoy it!
252 · Jul 2024
Sunset eyes
Fey Jul 2024
I tint your eyes in hues of an auburn sky,
set aflame a starling's wings, flapping lazily in delight.

You are my sunset, a gentle murmur from within,
I will see you again, when the sunken snow drops return back in spring.

© fey (06/07/24)
250 · Oct 2020
two kindred coffee spirits
Fey Oct 2020
her world is not laced with sugar and milk
and yet she decided to put them inside.
a flavor of alienated, saccharine silk,
her otherwise pitch-black morning coffee had died
maybe, just maybe, because of him.

his world levitates on honey-like force,
sticky sweetness reigns tender lips,
one evening, a bitter intruder enters with no remorse,
he stepped into her world with long regretful sips,
eager to be enchanted by this “triste malheur”,
maybe, just maybe, because of her.

they were two kindred coffee spirits,
one leaving a sugarcoated sphere,
the other one becoming a brave pioneer.
although neither of them liked
the other one’s caffeine-induced sight,
they still thought of each other,
either on sweet, milky mornings or disgustingly bitter nights.

© fey (30/10/20)
One friend of mine really hates plain black coffee when there is no respectable amount of sugar and milk inside of it. I, on the other hand, rarely drink the mentioned baverage with any of the additional ingredients. But today both of us drank the exact type of coffee the other one of us prefered, without knowing. I prepared mine in the morning and thought "Nah, why not" and put sugar and milk in it. It was disgusting. He prepared his coffee on the evening and didn't implement anything fancy. He also said that it was digusting. We thought of each other subconsciously while consuming our weird coffees and after finding out about it, it was was such a funny coincidence that I decided to write a poem about it.
Fey Mar 2020
i want to dance nonchalantly in a dust-ridden library
to all the cheesy ol' love songs from 1953,
with someone just as lost in the world's rapid haze as me

in the lazy afternoon sunlight of early spring
we could smile at the clouds messy formations in pink
ask ourselves if nature was really meant to be so god-**** pretty
while staring at each other with unspoken mutuality

sometimes i wonder
whether a person like that will ever come across me
or if this will stay a hopeless romantic's daydream forever

we'll see.

© fey (26/03/20)
This is inspired by the song "Can't Help Falling In Love" from Elvis.
246 · Jun 2024
🌹 Our rose garden 🥀
Fey Jun 2024
I buried your smile beneath the rose garden,
for when the buds pick on the cry of the purple martin,
you'll be there,
never apart in
the winter-y longing, so strong, an
easy way for the dreaming soil to catch wrens,
you prolonged underneath, before me,
before us, before the rain-drenched, silvery shining stems
for all the world to catch, for all the prying eyes to see.

So let me water your gentle dimples, where the petals fimble.
Because I love you,
and I love our messy rose garden,
alluring bees, always keeping them from starving.

© fey (08/06/24)
246 · Mar 2021
It's in your eyes
Fey Mar 2021
It‘s in your eyes
and how those honey-clear gazes draw small circles around the sky, whenever
a lovely smile vanishes in the dim afternoon light,
like a swarm of youthful birds with wings wide spread,
ready to conquer the earth's terra incognita,
utterly remaining unread.

© fey (10/03/21)
240 · Sep 2020
amitriptyline
Fey Sep 2020
they never told me that
happiness would be hidden
in a teeny-tiny rounded tablet
witch a notch to divide and reduce
30 mg to 15 like
it's some humorless joke in which
only the cynical people would get
the punchline from and laugh.

i never thought that my smile would be a result of
a molecule structure, synthesized and
ready to be sold for 5 euros but only if
you live in a country with a non-profit health insurance.

i also would never have guessed it to be
such a creepy tongue-twisting name.
i'm tripping on my words like
amitriptyline trips on my jittery nerves.

what's the point of being myself when being myself means
being miserable?

© fey (04/09/20)
238 · Sep 2024
You are
Fey Sep 2024
You are
Tender twilight dangling below
Chiaroscuro paintings of snow.
And when those meadow eyes of yours glow green
And pale the glistening emeralds beneath
Tender necks of aristocrats,
My love enlightens the shadowed sea
For you and only you to be.

© fey (18/09/24)
234 · Jun 2024
Roses
Fey Jun 2024
In the garden, roses bloom,
Casting shadows, scenting gloom,
Petals whisper, colors gleam,
In their beauty, lies a dream.

Life's grand tale in blooms unfolds,
Each rose a story softly told,
From bud to blossom, swift to fade,
In their essence, truth displayed.

Thorns remind of trials faced,
Yet in pain, pure grace is traced,
Life, like roses, sweet and brief,
Balanced between joy and grief.

Morning dew and evening light,
Kiss the roses, pure delight,
Cycles spin, time flows and flows,
In each moment, wisdom grows.

In their fragrance, love resides,
In their bloom, all time abides,
Roses teach us, life is this –
A fleeting, fragrant, tender kiss.

© fey (15/06/24)
228 · May 2024
The poet's garden
Fey May 2024
In the garden's tender shade I lie,
Underneath the azure sky,
Where whispers weave in harmony,
With the rustle of the leaves so free.

Beneath the boughs, I find my seat,
Where words of poets come to greet,
Their verses dance in the gentle breeze,
As I immerse in their symphonies.

A tapestry of blooms unfold,
Their colors bright, their stories told,
Each petal sings its own refrain,
In a language only hearts can gain.

The sun, a painter, strokes the air,
With golden hues, so fine and rare,
Its rays caress each blade of grass,
In a choreography, oh so vast.

And as I lose myself in verse,
In the garden's blessing, I immerse,
For here, between the earth and sky,
I find the beauty that will never die.

In nature's arms, I gently sway,
As time itself just slips away,
And in the silence, I'm not alone,
For poetry and nature, they are my home.

© fey (09/05/24)
Fey Apr 2020
i can't feel the paper anymore.

the gentle white hue slipping through delicate fingers,
words crumbling, unwritten.

i want to grasp the remaining ideas, before the malnourished muse decides to leave for good.

like the rest of them.

© fey (01/04/20)
222 · Mar 2020
getting drunk alone
Fey Mar 2020
getting drunk alone
is something i never thought i would experience

gettting drunk in general
is something i would never do on purpose

but today i felt so alone that i
almost naturally gulped one beer after another

and the warmth that spread inside of me
was like a welcome embrace out of the dark

i couldn't get rid of.

© fey (09/03/20)
222 · Feb 2020
coffee stains
Fey Feb 2020
one might say 'it was a good day',
had some eye contact with ernest hemingway
[only his books of course, not his face],
also a large amount of caffeine,
while listening to the beatles 'yellow submarine'.

a teaspoon of long forsaken melancholy,
longing for joy and mischievous folly.
and all that remained
in my sorrowful mind to contemplate
were two cloud-shaped coffee stains.

one was bright, the other frail.
two might say 'it could be a fairy tale'.

only

that it was not.

© fey (23/09/19)
212 · Feb 2020
eternity
Fey Feb 2020
as charming as they might be,
the spirits of those with no remorse,
i was only endebted to the eternity,
in the ember of your eyes infinite beauty.

[german]

so charmant sie auch sein mögen,
die geister derer ohne reue,
ich war nur der Ewigkeit verpflichtet,
in der Glut deiner Augen unendlich Schönheit.

© fey (20/09/19)
210 · May 2024
Évasion
Fey May 2024
Sometimes I want a life I call not mine,
nestled in watchful eyes of untold dreams,
like night slips through the crack of bones
and moonlight calls the wary veins home.

But I know that want would dissipate
right after its imaginary completion
Because desire keeps an ephemeral business
and suffering is not as fleeting.

Life was never meant to be
this artificial currency
people call it money,
but it's bankruptcy
of life, of possibilities.

© fey (01/05/24)
208 · Feb 2020
pearls on a string
Fey Feb 2020
(I)

I once had friends,
gathered like pearls on a string.
I kept them with me,
as a bird would
with its pretty wings.
But once they outgrew me,
they all fell apart
and along with them
my fragile heart.

(II)

I heard a nasty sound,
with shaky hands I searched
their presence on the ground.
But they were gone,
already rearranged.
So all I had
was a tattered ribcage.
Frozen in time,
lost in space
a heart with no beat,
just a shallow haze.

(III)

I made friends with words
instead.
Once they were written,
they would all stay in place.
The letters on paper
toneless, they said:
"you are my creator",
to which I replied
"with pleasure.
as long as you are not a traitor."

© fey (16/07/17)
208 · Dec 2020
au revoir, euphoria
Fey Dec 2020
And when you're searching for that paradise of yours,
built of inscrutable mist, balanced on a spider's fragile webs,
don't forget to invite me in as well.
Because this place was not made
for both our lost souls to stand
against rusty mechanisms of a mad world's wry farewell.

© fey (02/12/20)
206 · Feb 2020
my coffee filter mind
Fey Feb 2020
my coffee filter mind
consists of bitterness.
I let everything in
especially nothingness.
Something, I would like to keep
always flows through
these paper thin walls,
which only made me blue.

I wish to be loved,
I wish to be friends with,
I wish to exist

if only for oblivious bliss.

I ADMIT IT.

Instead, I hide myself
in a metaphorical beverage machine,
that enchants the taste buds of
every sleep-deprived lover of caffeine.

I secretely long
for those things I despise
because I'm so f*cking scared

of ripping my paper thin disguise.

My coffee filter mind
more or less cries.
Because it's not comfortable being around
others of her kind.

I want someone  to tear open my heart,
not to invade but rather comfort

my obnoxious coffee filter part.

© fey (16/07/17)
201 · Dec 2020
decayed heart
Fey Dec 2020
i haven't watered my flowers
equally less
as that fragile beat
inside my chest.

© fey (08/12/20)
200 · Sep 2020
haiku
Fey Sep 2020
Inside the forest
a nostalgic alike rain
dies on a flower.

Mori no naka
natsukashii ame
hana de shinu.

© fey  (27/11/19)
I wrote this in my Japanese class once. Unfortunately, HelloPoetry doesen't allow me to post the Japanese Kanji and Hiragana. I guess that from a grammatical viewpoint it is not quite correct in Japanese but it was in a time where I freshly started to learn the language, so keep that in mind please.
197 · Feb 2020
sharks
Fey Feb 2020
sharks are passing through my brain,
for a second I thought they were beautiful.
but as I looked up again,
they were consuming my happiness away.

© fey (27/11/19)
197 · Nov 2024
Wanderlust
Fey Nov 2024
I am longing manifesting itself through ink-splotted pages,
right when the evening sun hits the crown the distant oaks are facing; reigning the hidden realms of forests fading. Autumn fell right through the plaster cast my heart had build through you, waiting, pending, just for another trace of touch to cave in. You would know. As I am speaking winter had long accumulated snow,  not knowing if its featherlight swift should strife your skin or march right in with blizzards where only spring light would keep out the cold. Sometimes the paper fills itself with words I barely manage to rest upon, strong; strokes of blind passion passing on, onto the next, onto the next one. I sigh deeply, I blink in the distance, forlorn. You see, life had me once in its reverie, pale blue dot, green moss moth, things with no sense, things I touch through this rose-colored lense. You wouldn't know. Maybe you do but mostly you don't.

© fey (15/11/24)
196 · Feb 2020
i wrote this in the dark
Fey Feb 2020
reading romance novels is my closest experience to love
i bought myself some flowers due to the reasons I mentioned above
my bangs cover the darkness behind my forehead
sometimes everything coherent slips through my melancholical mindset

© fey (09/09/19)
Fey Sep 2020
the sad frog in my wallpaper
watches me suspiciously;
narrow eyes full of decay,
nostrils small and insignificant.
we are having an ambitious staring contest
each with their own emptiness.

© fey (01/09/20)
don't even ask what tf this is about, I am officially a mental trainwreck
Fey Feb 2020
And he asked her,
auburn eyes filled with awe,
hands stretched to the above
like a freshly blossomed branch in summer,
thoughts lost in innocent slumber:

"Is there anything more beautiful than the sky?"

She smiled and shook her head sheepishly,
assuming the contrary that,
indeed, there was something more beautiful than the sky.

But hed didn't need to know that yet.

© fey (5 weeks ago)
Fey Apr 2024
In silence lay concealed and still,
The blue of heavens here ahead,
It held the reins of clouds, yet frail,
While petals strove a lasting thread.

Astray she turned her hand away,
Towards the pale horizon's line,
In despair the black birds sway,
Around bare branches fading shrine.

In endless gleam of sun so pale,
Averted from the longing death,
Carnations scent, so bright and hale,
She staggers back to life's last breath.

There, where light falls veilly thin,
Enveloped in the darkest night,
A whisper of peace softly spins,
A distant melody, a laugh still light.

In whispers of transience frail,
Unfolds the delicacy of a strand,
That through time carries without fail,
The warmth a set of hands prevails.

And in life's chaos, heavy dire,
A spark of hope ignites within,
Thus moments so deeply inspire,
That life’s enchantment does begin.

© fey (23/04/24)
188 · Nov 2024
Not to the moon and back
Fey Nov 2024
I may not love you to the moon and back
but
I still cherish the bulky craters you have left
on
the surface of my withered heartstrings,
oh the wondrous perils of heartache.

© fey (18/10/24)
185 · Mar 2020
00-00-0000
Fey Mar 2020
sometimes
i just wanna rip the whole world apart
and never put it back together again

© fey (01/03/20)
182 · May 2024
I'll be yours for a sunset
Fey May 2024
In the realm where twilight weaves its dance,
A canvas of gold, a crimson trance,
There lies the rosy sunset's embrace,
A symphony of hues, a tender grace.

Upon the horizon, where day meets night,
Ethereal whispers in soft twilight,
The sun's last kiss, a fiery blend,
A story of beginnings, a start with no end.

The sky ablaze with passion's glow,
As shadows stretch, the world below,
In hues of rose and amber fire,
Nature's grandeur, a divine choir.

Each cloud a brushstroke, painted bold,
In whispers of stories yet untold,
The earth below, in rapture sighs,
As daylight fades and darkness tries.

Yet in this moment, time suspends,
As heaven and earth, their hearts transcend,
In the rosy sunset's fleeting gaze,
Eternal beauty, a soul's enraptured maze.

So let us linger, in this divine art,
Let poetry sing, and dreams impart,
For in the rosy sunset's tender hue,
We'll find the beauty, sustaining truth.

© fey (05/05/24)
181 · Nov 2024
For Kafka
Fey Nov 2024
In the corridors of your thoughts,
where shadows climb walls,
time trembles like a shy bird,
trapped beneath the dome of the self.

Every step a struggle,
every door a verdict,
and behind each key
the whisper of worlds
you will never enter.

The air tastes of dust and silence,
of machines spinning without purpose.
Your heart beats to the rhythm of uncertainty,
an insect
striking the glass of the world.

Was the metamorphosis a curse,
or simply this:
what we all are—
losses in endless spaces,
stains on maps
no one reads anymore?

Yet in your pain,
fragile as cobwebs in twilight,
there lives a secret:
to grasp the invisible,
to feel the unnameable,
and to find, in silence,
what we long ago forgot.

You build yourself a room of mist,
windowless,
yet filled with the whispers of voices long gone.
The walls breathe heavily,
like creatures you cannot see,
who settle in the hollows of your dreams.

A beetle crawls across the ceiling,
slower than time itself,
each leg burdened by a question
you never dared to ask.

Outside—
the city of paper,
torn by a wind
that refuses to rest.
Streets lead to nowhere,
and the nowhere bears your name.

Your footsteps echo like murmurs from other lives.
A labyrinth of faces,
their eyes forever closed.
You search for the exit,
but find only mirrors,
their glass fogged by your breath.

In this house of night, you are king,
prisoner, and creator all at once.
A butterfly without colors,
fluttering through rooms
that no light has ever touched.

© fey (23/11/24)
174 · Mar 2020
broken wind chime
Fey Mar 2020
your sounds are no longer consistent
the breeze gently brushes the memory that was once your voice
the echo being trapped in the split glass forever and
sometimes I wonder
whether glue would be enough to make the symphony play again
but that's a thought I'm not quite fond of

© fey (24/03/20)
kina - can we kiss forever?
171 · Mar 2020
you will be ok
Fey Mar 2020
this tide won't carry you along
take a deep breath, i promise
the force within you is strong
there are no boundaries upon us

let the wave pass gently,
i know the sorrow is tempting,
but out there are people
appreciating your whole existence immensely,

your story is yet to tell,
let time speak for its ending

and not your pain.

© fey (10/03/20)
Naomi Scott - Speachless
168 · Feb 2020
depression
Fey Feb 2020
forget about the plans you made,
the pit in your brain cracked open
once again,
and gone are all the mental band-aids
you enveloped your weary heart with
so much strain.

Instead,
prepare yourself for the darkness of your room,
resembling your inner turmoil,
Netflix binge-watching while hording snacks like a hungry racoon.

It's called depression.
and it won't let you off the hook
ever again.

© fey (25/02/20)
165 · Jun 2020
dancing knife
Fey Jun 2020
her eyes were empty, the once sparkling iris forgotten already,
abyss-like mind filled with decay, shadow-tinted mood unsteady
“I don’t feel my body”, she whispered
limbs moving rapidly like snowflakes in a blizzard, hazy
when she imagined the edge, it was smooth and gentle
no sharpness, no pain intended
but instead of dancing with the knife she rather
watched its stillness with calm and collected anger
why was the metal shining so endearingly
when in reality it hold so much potential
to end her already

© fey (09/06/20)
164 · Feb 2020
"friends"
Fey Feb 2020
today my heart is aching,
ugly beats resonating from its chest.
friends are all fcking traitors,
masquerading empathy with ignorance.

take your st
pid advice somewhere else,
I respect my shattered pride way too much
to care about your so-called "distress".

Where have you been
all the time
in
MY
mess?

© fey (23/02/20)
164 · Jan 26
Small-Town Melancholy
Fey Jan 26
Resting in the rift
of January’s frozen stillness,
where ephemeral light
breaks through the rooftop's
halogenic heart strings.
Above me,
the gray-streaked
shyness of the treetops,
and my feet drift through
the fragile maze of asphalted
spring crops.
From afar, clausthrophobic crowds
press on
toward a remnant of living transience,
stretched across a pale blue ground,
fluttering jade-green,
the bleak expression of the working man's transgressing weariness.
And where I still went to school today,
fatigue
lingers on.
And where I still went to function for society
fatigue
carries on.

© fey (25/01/25)
163 · Jun 2020
her eyes
Fey Jun 2020
her eyes stay out of line
from the suffocating staccato of life
But what about your eyes?
They absorb the sharp edges
of the self-indulgent human kind.
Tell me about the stories of love,
maybe I will get to know it in
the deep dark corner right above
my blurry, dust-ridden forehead,
no one seems to care about enough.
So then, lay me to sleep,
let us wait for eternal slumber,
as we dive head-deep,
becoming incredibly number.

© fey (25/06/20)
161 · Feb 2020
outer space
Fey Feb 2020
eyes in the color of outer space,
the milky way lost its enchanting glow,
whenever you lifted your reticent gaze.

apropos

you are a solid caldwell 39,
six-thousand-five-hundred-twenty light years away,
probably the "acid to my alcaline",
even the matrix to my data storing array.

I am quiet. I am calm. I am out of control.
maybe even slightly delirious.
my rationality got ****** into a black hole.

my heartless state in a temper tantrum; furious.

you are in outer space,
close to my everlasting hope.

If we won't meet face to face,
I will continue watching you through my telescope.

© fey (28/12/29)
Fey Feb 13
They dressed me in whispers, in silken deceit,
Painted my face with a love incomplete.
A puppet, they called me, a doll made of glass,
Shaped by their hands, by a past I surpassed.

They spoke with conviction, their tongues laced with gold,
Took what they wanted and left me in the cold.
A prize on a shelf, a mirror of need,
Fed on control while I learned how to bleed.

But cracks tell a story, and glass learns to shatter,
Chains lose their strength when the soul grows much flatter.
I gathered the pieces and stitched them with flame,
No longer their object, no longer their gain.

Now when I speak, my voice shakes the air,
No longer a whisper, but truth laid out bare.
They see me, they fear me; no longer confined,
For I am not theirs, I am finally mine.

© fey (13/02/25)
158 · Feb 2020
isolation
Fey Feb 2020
maybe it's the winter's tiptoeing snowfall,
the endless white on the monotone rooftops,
the silence of my room is louder than any hysterical scream,
i think i heard a breath leave my hollow chest
and elimenating my inner child's glowing sunbeam.

if i'd see a color pass my peripheral view,
just a tiny speck of a sunset's lilac hue,
i think my shattered heart would dance
and pretend to experience a solemn romance.

why does the winter always feel like
a suffocating grip around the throat of
those, dreaming and disappearing

of everyone's initial thoughts?

© fey (27/02/20)
Fey Oct 2020
i loathe the nightly routine of
complex human emotions.
the insecurity induced fear of
never knowing what intimacy might feel like
because my outer layers won’t invite
any invidivual in, since sharp daggers are
what a gaze of mine would spill

I loathe the nightly routine of
crying myself to sleep when I read
all the lovey-dovey descriptions of
some couples won defeat
over loneliness and feeling utterly incomplete.

I know you know what I mean.
being the first to hide and the last to dream
of idealistic connection in a world
lost in translation.

I see you.
behind the screen.
misunderstood.
not able to cross the line of
wanting to be alone and
never wanting to be alone again.

I get the hint.
I wish I wouldn’t be so bothered about it.
listen to the piece of advice saying
“it happens when you least expect it”,
**** their optimistic mindset, really

we live in a society,
where connection might be easy
but hard to develop as something
more than a swipe to the next inviting beauty.

video may have killed the radio star
but the digital absurdity of modern society
suffocated the hopelessly romantic
and gave him a good ******* amount of
overdeveloped anxiety.

© fey (05/10/20)
155 · Apr 18
To my abuser
Fey Apr 18
Sometimes the shadow of you still lingers
in the books you once recommend,
among the verses of the bands you mentioned.
You ruined the experience of certain videogames too; the one where you spoilered
a certain character death in Assassin's Creed II;
said Silent Hill was silly for foreshadowing monsters with the soundtrack to creep out a *****,
****-talked Alan Wake for using a flashlight to eliminate the enemies;
but forgot to mention that you were a monster too.
Yeah, you liked to portrait my favorite games as silly and aloof,
what were you so insecure about?
I remember how you pushed me to touch you,
in this tent when we went out with our class back then.
Didn't accept me feeling scared and not wanting to.
You didn't accept my boundaries then and demanded other atrocities as well.
Where you never ashamed?
You contacted me ten years later, while I was playing Kingdom Hearts with a friend.
Had the worst panic attack but that didn't interest you the slightest, am I right?
When I found out your twitter and how you whined about still being a ******,
have you forgotten to mention what you did to me back then?
I guess that would be too inconvenient.
******* about having anxiety and depression,
you put me through hell and you dare to speak of mental health?
You are still disrespecting women like this pathetic Incel
you still are.
And guess what? I still read Eragon and play Dark Souls and Halo and Skyrim without you butting in.
I won't let you ruin the fun I made for me.
Goodbye then.
Goodbye for real.

© fey (18/04/25)
#tw
154 · Mar 2020
void
Fey Mar 2020
is it boredom or depression
when a void - the size of three universes colliding alltogether-
settles down in my brain?
is it a lack of motivation or
a serious serotonin oppression?
am i shallow or am i unsure
of what to do next?

is it the serious will to die
or to just cease of existence?

What is it really?
And
What am I actually?

© fey (23/03/20)
Next page