Writing request: Write a story or a scene where the main character suspects that the voices they hear are hiding a secret from them.

The voices were louder than ever before:
They don’t like your writings. It’s all about your lack of fantasy!”
“You’re a coward! You hide behind your fictional characters instead of taking responsibility for your problems!”
“But maybe that’s your way of healing…”
“Don’t be stupid! It’s not about healing, it’s about getting attention!”
“No, it was never about that!”
“So, you don’t care about the likes and comments, right? You’re such a hypocrite!”
“Because of your stupid writings, someone might feel hurt or offended. Someone might start hating you and you know what? It’s well deserved!”
“If you could be more interesting!”
“If you could care less about their opinions!”
“If you could stop crying like a baby every time someone bullies you! It’s normal, this is the world we’re living in!”
“It’s not normal, other people are loved and admired!”
“Just not…you”

She shouted out loud, so loud that everyone turned to see what’s wrong. Some even left their seats and came closer, with their phones, already smiling, thinking of the views they’ll get on YouTube for posting it…
STOPPP…please, just stop…
She said it again and, just like magic, the voices stopped. The stillness in her mind felt awkward and dangerous. Felt empty.
She knew it right away, they never stop, unless they’re planning something. Usually against her. That’s how they are, mean and secretively hateful. What is their secret now?
The video got viral on YouTube. On some other social media too. Titles like:
“Crazy blogger-girl has a meltdown in restaurant” or
“Seeking for attention, this blogger only becomes ridiculous” or
“How to embarrass yourself in public” became her new normal. And voices remained silent.
And people forgot about it completely.
And no one ever wondered what happened to the girl who hears voices after she deleted her blog.

She left a note saying “I know their secret now. They want to kill me, but I won’t give them satisfaction…”

Image from

Is this the way?

Writing request: Write a poem which describes the feeling of betrayal.

My naked body smells like dirt and anger,
You touched it with your dirty hands…
Is this the way you touch her too?

My tender lips covered in tears and bruises,
They tasted poison from your hungry mouth…
Is this the way you kiss her too?

My gentle heart beats self-destructive rhythms,
You poured your wicked lies where it was love…
Is this the way you hurt her too?

Hate has a name, and I’ll proclaim it
As just another story of a murdered trust…
Say it out loud, I need to hear you, baby!
Is this the way you play her too?
It’s called Betrayal.

Image from

The Keeper

Writing request: Write a story about a character that quits its job or gets fired and what does this mean to him. The character can be fictional.

The keeper looked at his own hands in awe, as if he’d never seen them before.
“A thousand gates these hands have locked, oh sweet old hands!”
Shaking from the core of his being, his eyes filled with salty waters.
“A million stories these eyes have seen, oh precious eyes of mine!”
Stumbling in front of the light, he mumbled words of blasphemy and pain.
“Ten times more pain these heart would carry, ten billions souls this lips would judge…
but I am worthless…I am useless…I am fired…”
He knew the gates of Heaven by heart, for he had kept them locked ever since Adam and Eve, broken and numb, left to search for a different kind of bliss.
So he shouted out loud to the white sky:
“Have it your way, oh, God of thunders! I’ll leave, for you don’t need me anymore! The gates are open, for your own creation! To come and to enjoy! To fill your boredom with laughs and violins! And me…oh, God of lightnings?! What am I left to keep?”
He fell and hit the solid ground, scratching his hands and knees, crying and bleeding his heart out…
God smiled: “You, silly angel! The gates are open, so wide open, so is my heart! So is my Love! You’re fired and you’re hired and you’re all mine…your job will be to Love them above all…cause they will loose the path so many times…remind Me again and again to guide them Home!”
The keeper smiled and a whole world saw the rainbow of forgiveness once again.

Image from

Here on my knees

white-dove-2678003_960_720What is this special feeling, nesting inside me like a seed of pure light, unseen at first, yet so rewarding in its sweetness? It’s Gratitude or is it so much more?

I’m grateful, Father, for every beautiful soul I was blessed to meet along this journey. For all the love I ever receive when I was down. For life, for health, for every trial! For every moment when I doubt myself, for humbling my arrogance…Thank you!

How would I name this river of tears flowing from this heart of mine, reaching the deep seas of other special souls? Is it Forgiveness, or is a miracle?

Forgive me, Father, for every moment when my heart was closed and hardened, for now I feel so free, embracing the ones who harmed me, knowing that no mistake defines us and we are given the chance to forgive each other…Thank you!

Where is this power coming from, if not from Heaven? Stronger than demons, faster than any shadow, brighter than fire? It’s Faith that’s building hope inside me, or is the voice of Angels?

I believe, Father, with everything inside me, I believe in You! For I saw hell, even inside me, and I sensed evil in so many actions, I tasted the bitterness and touched the flames, and still grew stronger…Thank you!

You feel it too, this warmth that guides us towards each other? This innocence that makes us believe that, even in labyrinths of pain and darkness, we’ll still find each other, we’ll still save each other? It’s Love the name of the wonder, or is it YOU?

Here on my knees I’m lost for words, so please receive this prayer flowing from my heart:

I love you, Father…Thank you for loving me back!



All credits for the photo to I.A. from



Sweet second life…

TRIGGER WARNING: depression, substance abuse, physical/emotional abuse, suicide thoughts


I’m nesting it in my palm, like it would be a sacred treasure. Mine. No one knows it and no one sees it, because it’s my secret. The key to my second life. A password to open the bright places in my being, so that I can join the happy crowd.

I’m keeping it safely, for it was hard to obtain it. I only have a few of them, all blue and perfectly round, like the blue full moon. My pills. My keys to an existence less painful. I will only take one, because tonight life’s rough and I’m entitled to a little gentleness.

I look at the light blue of its surface and it reminds me of a sunny sky. Ironically, I bought it during a terrible storm, the one that crashed my love to the ground and left me agonizing. And then I found my second life, where voices are soft and touches are tender.

I put it on the tip of my tongue, it feels so sweet. I know that I’ll be dancing soon, embraced by arms that never harm me, and all the colors will dance around me. I will be child again in my second life, I will be safe again. Soon…

I let it roll down, but I don’t swallow it, not yet. I like it when the sweetness turns into bitter, when the soft surface gets scratchy. It’s like in real life, when, instead of a bed of roses, I find myself smashed to the ground. Reality is bitter, isn’t it?

It rolled down to my throat, leaving a sour-bitter-acid trace, and now my eyes are filled with tears. It will be alright, soon I’ll be flying. In my second life I always fly. I find bright places inside me, but I can’t stay there for too long…no, I have to fly, I have to dance, ’cause if I stop the walls will tumble over and I’ll die…I’ll just die…

But now I’m here, inside my second life. The sky is sunny-blue, the voices are soft, the touches are gentle. I’m in a cloud of cotton candy, swirling around a rainbow of colors.

And friends will not betray me here.

Promises wont be broken.

There will be no diseases.

And he will love me. Eternally mine.

Tomorrow it’ll be raining in reality, but I wont feel it. Sarcasm will prevail and voices will yell, but I won’t know it. I’m not coming back! I built my castle, here, inside my dream, and blue soldiers are guarding me.

Release me, please…


NOTE: This post is dedicated to the ones fighting depression/substance abuse/suicide thoughts. To all the calls for help that were ever ignored. Please don’t give up.

The post is NOT about me, or my personal experience. I do not encourage substance abuse. I merely try to present the reality from other perspective, without judging or giving any unwanted advise.


All credits for the photo to I.A. from



Towers of gold…

woman-2610972_960_720 (1)He dressed my naked body in gold when all I craved for were his kisses,

bathed me in diamonds when all I thirsted for was the taste of his skin,

placed a ruby on my finger when all I was aching for was to feel his grip on my lustful hips.

And I…drunk of too much glitter…high on sparkles and shining stones…I gave myself.

And he…delighted by this easy pray, aroused by the sweet agony of a fresh new capture, he lied.

That diamonds are forever.

And gold is never broken.

And ruby stones stay perfect. An eternity.

But then again, my heart was craving for a lover’s kiss and lust became an agonizing desire for more. And then again, my restless hands explored his empty side of bed, and sinful fantasies occupied the lonely fields of my body. Calling his name, screaming in pleasures I never should have known…but only darkness responded.

It gave me a sense of fulfillment. It took away my peace. It broke my innocence.

So here am I, shamelessly exposed, without my towers of gold. I lay here, my love, tired of all the dancing. Tired of fooling my own heart. It rained with tears, can’t you feel them burning on your skin?

Come near me, love, forgive me once again, I broke the ruby stone. I crushed the diamonds and even gold is rusty. My love for you remained my only treasure. 

Make it yours.


All credits for the image to Efes Kitap from

Title inspired by the song “Never enough” by Loren Allred


Among the undead


They pointed to the old house, then ran away laughing and joking about my craziness. Who could blame them? A lost village, a road that’s not on maps, a dream, a calling…A stubborn, reckless heart that, once again, loved the wrong one! The blind one, the insane one, the undead one!

The young ones always laugh…

The voice came from all fairy-tales I ever believed in. Her smile was wrinkled but her eyes had the brightness of forever youth. And I stood mesmerized, unable to explain…but then I just ignored the weirdness of all, and said hi to the sweet old lady in front of me.

You have to cross the bridge, it’s shaky, so be wise!

Inside me I was shouting at myself, hating my lack of wisdom, my inability to guard my feelings, this naivety that brought so much pain. Inside me, I was crying.

If you find a dead-end, if the forest rejects you, you do not push your luck! You go back home and you’ll be safe.

Home…they say that home is where the heart is, so I guess I’m homeless…Rejection…yes, I know the signs, I’ll take it bravely, like I always do…but I’ll never be safe. Not when darkness is creeping inside me, biting hungrily from the core of my fears.

So here I am, crossing a bridge that seems alive and angry. The howling waters, the whispering wind, no birds or butterflies to calm my anguish…just a hopeless dream, just a loveless life…there’s nothing scarier than this emptiness inside me, so…LET ME CROSS THE BRIDGE!

I said it out loud, ’cause all noise stopped. The forest smiles, laying green stairs at my feet. White butterflies play in my hair and there, in the sparkling green grass…there’s a white feather. An angel…could it be watching? Could I be loved? That much, that deep…no, never.

And then I see her, in all its beauty.


“They say you’re haunted, but I’m the haunted one…his words left me broken…I feel like an undead walking among the undead…a living ghost…

Am I that worthless? Is he that heartless? Does Love even exists in this world where words don’t heal anymore…So if you truly see inside the broken hearts…I need a friend now…”

Some say she speaks to their heart, some blame the wind…

Some swear she listens, some leave more burdened…

Some worship cold stones, some turn their eyes to the sky…

Some love…

I just embraced the lonely forest’s lady, and I felt an aching heart beating strongly against the cold, old stone. My heart. Still alive, my best prove that love blossoms even in a soulless world.

Even among the undead.



You left me defenseless

portrait-3216933_960_720I can make you forget…he whispered, drawing circles on my bare shoulders, only to fill them with butterfly kisses, only to fill my soul with this agonizing need for more.

…about pain…and his thumb found a secret place on the back of my neck, where perfect pressure combined with his hypnotizing voice turned my resistance into yearns for pleasure.

I can make you burn in flames of unspoken desires…his warm breath on the sensitive skin of my neck, turning shivers into waves, and waves into butterflies and sparkles all through my restlessness.

…or just turn your body into a playground for my shameless fantasies…his eyes grew dark while wicked fingers and hungry kisses pushed me deeper into surrender, further beyond the boundaries we were breaking.

And, mesmerized, I was about to plead…don’t waste another moment, don’t wait for second chances…don’t let me go this time…just make me yours!

but when my lips finally parted, I softly mumbled the forbidden words:

I love you

That’s how I lost him.



All credits for the photo to Stefan Keller from


I’ll wear a smile for you…

One day you’ll see the flames inside me and, suddenly, hell will make sense in your sleeping conscience.

One day you’ll love me too.

Not today. Today is about masks that hide our deformities. Our scarred hearts. Our blinded eyes.

Today is about being wrong.

One day my naked body will be the altar for you to lay your love at.

One day you’ll want me too.

Not today. Today is about destruction and disarming the enemy. You and me, soldiers fighting against each other. You hurt me so bad and now I’m deadly bleeding!

Today is about laughing of my pain.

One day you’ll realize the damage we have done and the blessing in the love we were given.

One day you’ll regret it too.

Not today. Today you’re the king of destiny and I’m the queen of broken pieces.

Forgive me, Your Highness!

One day I’ll wear a smile for you. An honest one.

Not today. Today my heart is dying.

When silence isn’t quiet anymore


Do you know that sometimes, when is dark,

-really dark

your ghostly eyes do light my path, like white, slow fires,

and in their flames I see desires?

-you think I’m blind?-

Is it true that, sometimes, when it’s cold,

-truly cold-

your icy lips do freeze the sweet and soft caresses

and all I hear is bitter guesses?

-you think I’m deaf?-

Have you see that, sometimes, when love dies,

-actually dies!-

your hopeless heart still speaks its free, wild prayer

and I am tortured by despair?

-you think I’m voiceless?-

Oh, don’t you know that silence screams the coldest blasphemy?

It turns my soul into a scene for wild obscenity!

It shouts into my helpless agony…

-that you are lost-

It isn’t quiet in its cruelty!

-When all we are is dust in savage wind,

you think I’m made of stone?-



All credits for the photo to Abigail from