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..was auch immer du sagst ..wird nicht verändern ..wer oder was ich bin ..deine Wahrheit ..muss nicht die meine sein ..deine Sicht der Dinge ..kann sich von meiner unterscheiden ..ist es nicht das, ..was Individualismus ausmacht..(?) . . . . #story #instadaily #words  #reallife #socialmedia #humanity #einsamkeit #lonelyplanet #gedanken #leben #welt #love #human #ignorance #poems #moments #lyrics #love #poetryisnotdead #kindness #poetry #writers #träumer #gedichte #musik #dreamer #writersofinstagram #poesie #nature
The Last Time I’ll Write About You, available where books are sold worlwide. 🤗
I was given 5 words by my second oldest nephew to use in a poem. Just as a fun exercise. I hope he likes it.
Old writes from an old laptop😪 ************************************************************ Today sounds a whole lot like the formula of a seamless destruction, the one that has become my friend when you left again, after being gone for a while. Here now under the covers, bed-ridden from the ailment of your origin and paralyzed from this fresh version of starving for your skin. The monsoon is raging outside but the urge to reach out and beg for your return, is the only storm wreaking havoc in my flesh. I have failed to dissect this disease you infected me with but I know that by doing so will only render science into a state of baffled and unknowing.  Why is it called Love when it’s only losing? Losing our hearts. Losing our spirits. Losing every regard for our dignity and self-worth. Losing our minds from reason. Losing our sense of right and wrong. Inside my chest is this unfathomable well that’s gushing out of me. I don’t know how to drain it but I must. I’m drowning beneath its undertow from parts of my body that’s screaming for your name. My heart is suffocating, near implosion from this broken record of the words,“I miss you.” I’ve sought refuge within these four walls, still tasting your kiss from my lips, still famished for our love that has dissolved into the floorboards where we used to lay. I hear your laugh and mine through gin-riddled breaths and wine stained teeth. You told me I was yours and I said you were mine, even though you weren’t. You lied. I lied. And we both bathe in them inside the tub filled with rose petals and blind eyes.  We were love’s rare but clandestine mission, always behind closed doors, and only meant to live in the dark. Arms around each other, courtships, picnics in the park, dinner dates on the balcony under the merciless moon- mere aliens to our world. I know we tried to make things right, to sow our love beneath the stars but plants don’t grow in a sunless earth. Our final destination has always
******************************************* Darkness is daytime’s plaything  Marred by the massacre of love Scarred by its abstract, and putrid, Yet mesmerizing painting  That many eyes have willingly  laid arms for its blindfold  To live safely  in the alternate world  where “what’s right” meets a sweet genocide  Here, the carcass of our honor  sweeps reluctantly ashore  as we watch the sun plummet only for us  Hoping that our sins  keel over to the sea  and find in its depths the heart to  forgive  For in digging the best gold, we have gotten our hands dirty... Elle Bor
************************************************************ Oh the many moons it takes to bring you back my stardust  and it’s always a deep impact when you crash down here  so beautifully Then I have to break my own fall because you can’t catch me  Even when your arms are ready to, the universe always tells us NO... Elle Bor
******************************************* “My name is Ophelia” Often with grave assertion  but mostly, a defense  to my own question  On nights I look at my reflection  and feel like a tourist  in my own body  On days I trade  pleasantries  with strangers Unaware that it’s my own hand  I’m shaking  I fear my mind and the bog  where it rests at night  when it betrays its creed to keep myself  within the line of sight  And it reminds me that one can break while remaining intact  run away  without leaving  That it is possible, to be abducted  and still lay in your own bed... Elle Bor
******************************************************** I’m head over heels  to the madness cursing through your blood  The branding of your name on my skin came only from a single touch  You are bad for me  a tornado at sunrise  a rabid wolf that I welcome back too kindly  You never return on announcement  always an arrival of havoc and these broken bones  could very well build your monument  I have tried  to keep you locked up  in a solitary cell within my mind within my heart  But I always find myself  slipping quietly  under the covers  with your body  Bathing in our heat and ecstasy  Here now,  in the fleeting absence of you  my heart sprawls in the compost  of my own sadness wretched like a crack addict  awaiting to be born anew  Thus, a storm  I keep chasing  even on sunny days my soul spellbound  in a million ways  With you,  there’s no  slipping and falling only crashing to the ground  head first  in the cold morning  Maybe you are who she warned me about, the tug I can’t seem to defeat. I never listened to my mom  when she said look left and right  before  crossing the street ... Elle Bor
Why did you let the sunrise go unseen?
************************************************************You were my cloak and dagger and I, your lethal secret  a touch of heaven  in the backseat There, you held me close letting me know  without telling me  that it will still be love  when morning comes  when it’s time  to return to the city  Yet we’re always lost,  chasing the wrong kinds of fire in your run down Chevy  And I think  our hearts were screaming to their grave  through the black coffee staining the passion of our midnight  kisses but it wasn’t loud enough  through the rumblings and engine hisses  My hands always  gripped hard  around the roof handles when we make it  to the corner lot  each time  I had to  bring myself to slide out the door, After collecting my heart from the floor  We don’t often  make plaques for these  the near successes, and being on the verge  We could have had everything But where’s the win in that? when we’re both sitting here wondering about what we  could have given up  to ransom our pride and haul back the merciless tide  Our recipe was the makings of forever  but almost still falls under never... Elle Bor
There’s so many versions of our future But you and I, will never be together... Elle Bor
************************************************************ If you skipped to the end you should know by now that this is the last but you would have missed the many times I returned to rescue our sandcastle Your back to me as you sat and built your own  Some hearts we burn The memories die into ashes And we plant them back into the earth Yet I kept ours inside the urn  And some great things are not meant  to be held by you and me Now I understand that our love is much like the sea Elle Bor
************************************************************ This is not a tsunami siren  but a loud calling  to us kindred spirits  who too, ache at mouths  who call us black sheeps and stepchildren  of this civilization  All because, we color outside the lines and refuse to tear  at the perforation We don’t form a single file and  rules suffocate us into resistance  I am with you in feeling different  even as my feet followed the crowd my voice suppressed  from expression passion killed by practicality  I share with you this pain of un-belonging Artists not outcasts Let it be said right  We were always meant  to escape the confines of a world blinded by the ordinary  Our hearts steer us Our souls possess us  We are renegades of normalcy  Bleeding profusely with creativity  And remember that we are free Elle Bor
************************************************************ The demons I fight in my head, they all look like you  seething with fury  as my sanity lays endangered  I’ve been wasting away  sucked dry from your touch Skinned Gutted  It must be time now  for your coincidental exit But you will return  soon enough  after the distance restores me and my body  becomes ripe again  for your voracious taking I will be ready  sledgehammer in my grip  breaking the  same concrete walls I once used to keep you out  You and I, it goes like this: The way I know of love, it has always been an illness  Only true, in front of empty bottles  Only real, behind slamming doors  And the way I was taught about letting go, it never means wanting to Elle Bor
************************************************************ He smiles gingerly to the day that’s ending  The antique clock now ticking  eyes never catching the tug  from the wild rose Nor the scent at its falling  And he reminds me that even the most beautiful things are taken for granted.. ************************************************************
This is for you, not him... ************************************************************ I remained mum about the time I touched the sun And instead of burning, I stole the very reason  why it shines I was a villain on this one But now I confess  inside this cocoon  of guilt and its inception  giving  due merit to this stabbing realization  This isn’t about him  This is for you  the one who held me  as warm and delicate  as fresh cottons in the field the one who picked out  the stars from behind the clouds  so I could see  Not “him” whose memory  is a permanent resident in my words  Yours we’re never spun  into a concoction of kisses and tears  but of sweet righteousness and honesty  I’m sorry that I could  only dip my feet in the ocean that you gave me that I doused myself in gasoline rather than suffocate in your embrace We were mismatched pieces from a perfect puzzle  glued by ideals  In them, we saw love A tale that was already ending  at its start  Our link was always meant  to fall apart  even in the absence  of rough  handling  But I can’t apologize  for leaving I can explain that now  The taste of new emotions  only one person can stir I understand now  why I chose to fight  a raging bull  I chose it over  walking on the ground strewn with rose petals  I set you free  so you can tell about  precisely how I feel with the one  who carries  the other end  to your broken piece  I speak for so many of us  who chase stories  that are destined for tragedy  and saturate our paper  with words from the bloodbath When there are already those  who write without fatality  and tell us  that we are poetry Elle Bor
Here I am, a masterpiece of his ruin. Elle Bor ************************************************************ 📷🛠 @atil.design
I want to be loved the way one would a hidden paradise-carefully...
************************************************************ The yellow tape around me may tell you that I am a storm, sweeping the  stillness of the waves  in the middle of summer  After all,  no formal dress can detain  my wild spirit  into the exiles of poise  I will laugh at my own jokes  dance to the beat of the drum and leap silly for a photograph  The way I run the gas tank until it’s empty,  and my mismatched socks  have scared them plenty  I have formed a  ruthless league  with the king of havoc  that has since been my accomplice  against the world, riddled with shallows  All seem afraid  to learn me better and see  that even in my clumsiness my falling knives  don’t cut and there is no burn  that accompanies my touch  No one yet  came  close enough to see that this caution sign  is only meant to shield me After once  when I  was crippled  by heartbreak  Near death  on frozen ground  And I have since been making sure I don’t fall down  the same way again.. Elle Bor
The wind is like my spirit: beautifully rambunctious