Sunset Beach

I’m having sandy sunset beach longing.
But if I do not sense.
If the feeling does not linger.
The night will ignite a spark.
Flames burn at the horizon of my being.
falling stars above me and hot watery kisses.
I will close my eyes for sandy sunset beach longing.
For I can not stand magic fading out.
Waves not touching.
The dead of night falling over me.

M.P.Yasmine

A Life

The last few days a part of me wants to die so badly.
You see, It’s not that I want my heart stop beating.
I just don’t want old mistakes repeating.
I simply want to be truly alive.
Well, not simply.
I want to be truly, explosively, passionately be alive.

M.P.Yasmine

Cinnamon

I would like some sugar in my tea.
But what I like doesn’t matter.
Like the cold of an old winter, my already sweet dead heart.
And the lost attempts of warming it with sugared water.
Let me try some cinnamon for now.
Letting time in and.
Let all that I desperately want go by.
And give in to nothingness somehow.

M.P.Yasmine

Time

I’m sick of time and more.
Time needed to go.
So I tried to ignore time for some time.
But time kept staring at me.
And when I stared back.
I knew it takes a little time to love time again.

M.P.Yasmine

Live

”Sometimes you have to let blood relatives die,
so you can live.”

M.P.Yasmine

Cyber Stalker

Year after year.
You pop up once in a while.
Messaging me behind the many masks you wear.
The choke hold of me you will not let go.
The grip of your lifetime self hate.
Suffocating yourself while standing in my shadow.
It is not even me you try to follow.
And I do not wish for you to be dead.
Because you already died many years ago.

M.P.Yasmine

Us Fools

People discussing and fighting over things they can’t control.
And the Grim reaper is watching us fools.
Ready at any given moment to take our soul.

M.P.Yasmine

Humanity

The process of dying is what makes me living.
Living with unkind humanity.
Death smiles at me.
Like no human does.

M.P.Yasmine

No.7 II

Written and read, so you will not forget.
That I would live on rhythmic sounds.
Touching, tragic, jovial and timeless.
Play this musical movement.
When death has collected my debt.

M.P.Yasmine

Debt of time

I can’t imagine living without the debt of time.
Not caring or daring to waste it all and let go by.
But the fear of dropping dead.
Makes living with time a nightmare.
And brings shivers down my spine when planning my life ahead.

M.P.Yasmine

Death Letter

With each decision I make for the better.
I’m rewriting my existence.
Reprogramming my being.
All that was fades away.
Saying goodbye to you and me.
All written down on this dead letter.

M.P.Yasmine

Panic Attack

Many sensations coming through.
My legs shaking steady.
Thank God for gravity.
My heart racing immensely past his place.
Like a train derailing disastrous.
My breathing stops.
Swallowing I must have forgotten how to.
A terrorized child I am.
Closing up completely for all input.
Each vital sense no longer working.
My body in freeze and my mind running.
I think I’m dying today.
Again.

M.P.Yasmine

Children

”The day I saw death creeping in on my father, I saw a lost child lying in bed yearning for his mom and dad.
Since that day I see children everywhere.
Lost children.”

M.P.Yasmine

I forgive you

I wish i could scream from the top of my lungs that I have forgiven them.
So even my dreams that haunt me at night could hear me.
Frightful whimpers wake me up each night.
The dead still much alive.
Haunting me, hurting me.
My hand covers my mouth.
I softly speak…

M.P.Yasmine

Father

”I trusted the Grim Reaper so much,
I slept on a bed right next to Death.”

M.P.Yasmine

Orphan Child

I always felt like an orphan child.
No mother, father or siblings supporting, comforting or loving me.
Still I was strong enough to comfort my parents to death.
The one and only thing they seem to be afraid of.
Ironic isn’t it?

M.P.Yasmine

Peace and Freedom

My empath self wants to write a poem about you and mother.
Because four years ago you both decided to let life go.
Six months in between.
Not all dead can be beautifully written about.
Death itself sure.
Both of yours brought me peace and freedom.

M.P.Yasmine

Ghost

William Shakespeare said,
Cowards die many times before their death.
The valiant never taste of death but once.”

”What about being killed numerous times before death.
Who will be what?”

M.P.Yasmine

Moral Circus

Moving through life, lying in bed alone, covered with memories and emotion.
Our hearts beating with warmth.
Backbite, gossip and dirty slander being told.
From our haters no love, loyalty or devotion.
The lonely night brings death to our bed.
Covered with silk and roses.
Bad anecdotes and lost memories are told.
Tears from our haters will be shed.

M.P.Yasmine

Humanity

The majority blending their being.
In a cocktail of misery and self medicate.
Not aware of the vortex from death.
Bringing them high in oblivion.
And their children even unmindful.
Shallow thinking.
Teaching not feeling.
Until dropping dead in the vortex of true living.

M.P.Yasmine

Eternity

The sound of love has changed.
Its beat lingers in death.
It makes me wonder.
If this is the only love I search for.
Eternity.
Many years from now.
The sound of immortality.
The beat of love waiting for me.

M.P.Yasmine

Thoughts

What if it does mean something.
To die meaningless.
Feeling nothing.
Living without meaning of.

M.P.Yasmine

Mood

I’m in this not so average mood.
I’m dead inside with an attitude.
My existence for you will be cloudy.
I suggest you don’t touch my cold body.
My heart turned into stone.
I suggest you leave it alone.
Being dead sure feels good.
I’m irresistibly trapped in this not so average mood.

M.P.Yasmine