Break

We take a break from work

From life; and fights

People we avoid

People we adore

One and the same

When the head has already left.

Amongst strangers

Widened horizons 

On a rooftop somewhere

Playing djembe in the middle of nowhere

Far from everything

Suddenly it hits

Less or more,

Who am I 

Without my focal points? 

I will be richer

In memories

Come back tanned,

Stuffed and happy

The routine continued just fine

Without me.

Those I avoid

Those I adore

Sitting at work,

My life; and fights

One and the same

Once the heart is back in the apartment.

When we look forward to

Do we leave it all

Wherever we go?

Looking back

Did I not take it all

Wherever I strolled?

Untrue to my word

I am true to my word

Except when it comes to us

I mean when I say
Yes and no mean the same.

I need you to leave 

Go ape once I put it to ink

Thinking I will never kiss those lips

See that smile of his.

I am weak

Because you make me strong

I push you away

Because all this is wrong.

It is for the best

I feel worse once said

Back and forth

My words lose their worth

I promise I do not love you

I don't, I don't. 

Life continues as before

Life continues as before

I will press snooze three times

Before getting ready for work;

My waiter will ask me

How I take my usual coffee

And I will check dreams 

Off my list

As long as I breathe.

Life continues as before

Except in those quiet moments

I recall our moments

Written in stone.

Don't we all start off as strangers?

Before soon enough,

One takes a piece of your heart

You never want back.

We cross paths just to part

Everyone leaves 

And we are left with memories;

The waves will wash away our footsteps

But not the fact that we made them.

Life continues as before

The world will not stop

But I will –

Then for a second,

You and I share a moment.

Street poetry

Empty streets

Two souls

Filled with memories

Of the past

Our past ;

We have walked these streets before

Young and in love

Our entire lives ahead of us.

We knew everything back then

Until time taught us

Doubt everything.

I see these words for the first time

Though they have always been here

Long before my love of words,

I found.

Empty streets

A poetry reading

We have been here before

Why are we here once more ?

A word

As long as I live, the well is infinite.

Freedom

Sun kissed,

The warm wind skating on my skin

One hand on the shoulder,

The other one holding on tight to this moment.

A day for the books,

In mine nonetheless

Our past months rumbling in my helmet,

Taking me on this ride to where we are heading.

I close my eyes to see

Right here, I am free.

The real thing

Some people will never experience Berlin

Except through stories,

Have their thirst for the thrill quenched

Than by reading.

Close, but never close enough ;

I never saw that sunset,

Just the reflection of it,

And it was just as perfect.

Not all love stories have the happy ending

But that does not make them any less real 

Than the real thing.

The same poem

A new beginning,

A comparable ending

It is the same poem

I keep writing.

The message differs

The titles adjust

One more figure of speech

For picking up a broken piece.

Elusive alterations

Editing the outcome

A plethora of versions 

For my book of poems.

Another round,

Back to square one

Are there any words left

This heart has not said.

Foreign land

If he really loved you...

If he really loved me, what? 

I suffer from Fernweh constantly,

Which horribly translates to wanderlust in English

Read the irony;

Still, I am traveling.

His blue eyes gallivant for a split second,

Sensible to where his mind escapes to,

I let him. 

I go fetch him water

He sneaks up from behind

Never turning around, 

He sees my soul full frontal.

If he really loved you...

If I really loved him, I know

What works

He is foreign land,

And I do not own a map.