Do you want me on my knees?

kiss_you_hard_in_the_pouring_rain_by_kris_kamikakushi-d8j79ttI was walking barefoot, tired and weary, when the skies turned black. It wasn’t unusual to me, it wasn’t strange or frightening. It was my world, my life with the desperation within. I was walking empty and broken when I found him.

He was waving a black flag, a symbol of a war he was longing to win, for he was battling the same angry winds that smashed our spirits to the ground. For an eternity, or so it seemed back then. He was walking in tears of anger when he saw me.

I ran to him like he would be my long lost friend, my prince or my savior. I convinced myself that all my stories are real and I was going to convince him that I’m his fairy. Selfish and naive, I was building a novel around this fantasy of mine. I ran to him like a homeless child searching for a shelter.

He opened his arms and almost smiled. A clear sign of a conqueror, even if the victory was bitter-sweet for him. After all, what kind of joy would bring such an easy prey? Nothing precious, no diamond hidden in a stone, just a broken heart with an uncommon desire to surrender. He opened his arms, but the gates to his heart stayed closed and sealed.

I cried when he first kissed me, and the light in me brightened the black skies. I let it all out, in a hopeless attempt to heal his blindness. But the torment and the pain were still there, no matter how tight I was holding to love! I blamed myself for the loneliness I felt in his arms. I cried when he kissed me, knowing it would be our last kiss.

He called me his princess, just like I always dreamed. He believed my stories and he pronounced the perfect words. And, as my heart was melting in his palms, he took my hand, taking me to a place he called home. He had a certain sadness in his eyes, as he walked me in, through the golden gates. He called me princess, so my cell would be paved with gold.

I searched for the black skies, but all I could see were the thick walls surrounding my golden cage. Locked with no chance to ever escape, to ever walk barefoot by the sea, I started to dream of storms and raging waves, to wash away this devastation inside. Imprisoned without a judgement, without a crime, I broke every vow and torn my innocence apart. I searched for the black skies and begged for an ending to this life sentence.

He admired the golden cage, for it was his creation. Years of anger and bitterness made it even shinier. His efforts were not in vain, for the view was spectacular! A free show, what a shame that the world couldn’t see it! How often can you see a heart breaking in pieces in front of you? How perfect is the soul the gives itself to the flames, just for one short glance at the deep blue in your eyes? He admired the golden cage and decided that the game is boring and dull, but we’ll play it anyway.

I fell on my knees, asking for one thing. One and only. The key.

He offered me his heart instead. 



I found the image at:

The title is inspired by one of my favorites songs: Scorpions, “Believe in love”




I see you…(can you see me?)


They said it’s a haunted place, so I shouldn’t be here when the moon is lonely over the dark lake. Haunted by melancholy, I saw no danger except for my bitter-sweet nostalgia. The one that leaded my steps so close to the edge…

They said there’s a ghost trying to sneak into the surface of what we call reality, so I should stay away from these deep waters. Ghosting into the abyss of my own desires, I saw no reason to stay on the safe side…

They said it’s a curse that’s drowning the innocents into the darkest of the dark, so I should better avoid the unknown. I laughed. I’m barely awake, drunk and weary into my own ocean of lost dreams, but not even there I would call myself innocent.

It’s my night and they wont stop me, not with their unwanted advises, not by shouting out loud from the other side, not through threats and promises, sweet lies and hurtful truths. There’s nothing they could offer and there’s nothing they could take. Brave or foolish, romantic or depressed, irresponsible or heroic they’ll call me!

Who knows, for I won’t be here anymore.

I see you, Innocent one, come, follow me…

And she smiles seductively, taking me to the place where the lonely moon never shined above.

I see you and I know you, I know where you come from…

Her voice like a melody reminds me of my childhood and I try not to cry, but tears flow freely, disturbing the mirror-clear surface of the dark lake.

Don’t cry, Innocent dove, the gates of your golden cage are wide open…

She promises freedom and painless dreams and I wish…oh, how I wish I could believe her!

But I’m far from being innocent.

And my darkness is far from being peaceful.

I am expected to return, back to life, back to light. One day…

So I must go and she must cry…

For she was real and I was her ghost…for much too long.




The source of the image:

The castle built on shifting sands


I will always remember that winter…Freezing cold outside, but warmth in our hearts, fire in our eyes…brighter, stronger than the sun itself! Do you remember?

I came home that morning, after shopping for Christmas, my cheeks were two red apples and my lips had the taste of strawberries, that’s what you said. Do you remember?

I looked around me and it was so beautiful! Toys on the floor, unpacked gift boxes, two different pairs of gloves, matched completely wrong. Our home! Do you remember?

I put my arms around you and your beard scratched my skin. I was giggling, pushing you with both of my arms, in a playful fight, until you were giving up and that’s when I was pulling you closer. “I’ll let you win, just don’t let go”  – Do you remember?

I spend days and nights playing. A big child, happy and innocent, unaware of what’s waiting around the corner. My prince and my castle, it was all about love! You used to joke about my self-centered definition of happiness, but you were happy too, I saw it in your eyes! Do you remember?

Six years of shifting sands and devastating storms.

Six winters of trying to forget what we had, so the pain of losing it could somehow pass.

Pills. Rituals. Suicidal thoughts. Virtual worlds. Dissociation. Self-harm. Six ways of destroying myself, in a desperate attempt to destroy this void you created inside me.


My perfect winter, with Christmas carols and ginger bread. My last winter. My lasts memories about love. I can’t remember anything that happened after.

The tragedy isn’t the lack of love. Not even the absence of joy. Nor the lonely nights when we sleep on a river of tears. It’s in your eyes…

…the eyes that never truly saw me burning for them.

Lost in shifting sands, my castle is slowly sinking. It doesn’t hurt, love, not anymore.

For I’m not here anymore…





Just like in movies…


She gently placed her hand on his chest. “I want to do it just like in movies.” Then, without a warning, her arms were around his neck, her head resting tenderly on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” he asked, a little confused, a little amused…and it was enough for her cheeks to turn into red flames.

“I’m…I’m hugging you!” she whispered, terrified of being ridiculous. But he approved and even seemed to like her little gesture. So she believed it’s the right thing to do.

The sea in the sunset was breathtaking so she just wanted more.

“Don’t let go…just hold me like you did before, just a few minutes, that’s all I need to learn…”

“To learn?”

He was holding her, just like in movies, stroking her golden hair, caressing her perfumed skin. And she trembled at the thought that she may forget…

“I want to learn this by heart! Every sensation, every color. The sand on my feet and the sound of the waves. I want to have it here, with me, within me…”

He smiled, a little sad, a little overwhelmed. The risk of forgetting was never a serious threat, but with her, for her…he would be frightened too…

“What I love the most about you is your kindness, your gentleness and your way of giving hope to the hopeless.”

His words were a painful reminder of the way she used to be. And, regardless of every wrong step they took, just for here and now, she desperately needed to re-define herself.

As the girl who ran barefoot to the sea…

As the happy child who used to love every teddy-bear in every store…

As the free spirit who ignored the rules, just to be there, for the less fortunate ones.

“If I could turn back time” -just like in movies- to go back to the place of love. To turn this heart shaped stone into a river of healing tears, I swear they would be all yours…”

He ignored her, a little worried of her aggravating depression, a little annoyed of her ever-lasting complains.

So she remained silent.

“I have something to confess and I need you to look into my eyes while I’m saying the words. Promise me you wont be cruel…”

“Cruel, me??? When was I ever cruel to you or anyone?”

“When you laugh of me and you ignore my stories, when you pretend not to see, not to feel…”

“Okay, just say it as it is. The confession, please.”

She took a deep breath.

“I have to tell you what I should have told you long ago. Ever since our first embrace, remember? Ever since I wanted to learn by heart the sunset and its sensations. Ever since I turned my heart into a stone…”

“Just say it, for heaven’s sake!” he shouted, a little frightened, a little angry.

I’m an alien, okay?! That’s why I never knew how to hug, how to feel, how to be. I’m an alien, in love with you, a man from this earth, and I’m struggling to act like a human being!

Her tears, like golden lights, turned into emeralds and diamonds. He turned his back, leaving her hopeless, helpless and desperate.

And then, just like in movies, a miracle happened. He turned and cupped her face.

“I want you to stop struggling and start loving me. For I am an alien too.”

That’s when she saw him for who he truly was. A stranger among strangers. That’s when she decided to love all the weird little things that the others called “unacceptable”.

And they lived happily ever after…


So, for all the aliens out there, please don’t turn your hearts into stones. There’s love and hope waiting for you with open arms. Somewhere, by the sea shore…




The source of the image:

Life after love…


He asked me “How’s life?” like we would be best buddies, like our paths would have never separate, like he wouldn’t know a thing about the abyss he pushed me into.

So I did what I know best: I smiled and kept my head up.

“Life’s good, like any life. Good days and bad days. Busy days mostly.”

A woman is strong by nature. Weakness, fragility, vulnerability and teary eyes…they’re out of my league. So he is. And the only regret concerns my broken illusions.

“Are you okay?” he said, but I sense no worries in his tone of voice.

“Of course I’m okay, thank you for asking. How about you?”

“I’m good, thanks.”

He’s not good, even if, for a long time, I believed in him. I thought I see a light surrounding him, like he would be an angel. I even imagined that, somehow, God speaks to me through his voice. He’s not a good person, I’m not a good reader.

He has no idea about love, I have no clue about people. End of story.

But life…oh, I know about life.

Life after love is bitter-sweet. Is a constant battle between a normal feeling of anger/pain/rejection/sadness and the joyful contemplation of a feeling so beautiful, so special and pure: love.

And love was there, in my soul, by the grace of God, not by the mercy of a man. I loved him because my heart was ready to blossom, not because of his poisoned poetry.

I loved him because I needed to love. I felt beautiful, I felt complete, my faith grew stronger and my wings reached to the starry sky. My only mistake was to believe that all these miracle were because of him. So when he took away his attention/poetry/lies I was so lost…

So lonely, so sad…(I called Heaven many times, asking about my “angel”)

But now, seeing him in front of me, I feel no pain. I guess I finally understood.

“Life after love is pretty good.”

“Excuse me?” (oh yes, let’s play pretend, let’s say you don’t understand my English)

“Well…you’ll never know, ’till you’ll try it.”


“Love, of course. So you’d know how life feels after…”

“I can’t take this anymore.”

“Ohhh, I’m sorry, I forgot! You’re only a shadow. You don’t have life because you cannot feel love. Well, then…”

Feel free to vanish! 



Sad woman, don’t you cry! (a child’s perspective on depression)


It’s 1 o’clock in the night and I’m not sleeping. I’m trying so hard not to move, not to make her aware that I’m there, sitting in my chair, with my arms wrapped tightly around my knees, imagining I’m inside my protective ball, where pain cannot pierce in…

I see her crying, it’s almost an hour since she started and she’ll probably continue all through the night. Her moves are automatic, robotic, she’s washing the dishes and she has plenty to wash. I’d offer to help, but I’m afraid to speak. I’m also afraid to cry even if I’m convinced that she wont notice.

She’s carrying an imaginary dialogue in her mind. I know it because, from time to time, her lips are moving and her eyebrows are raising just like in a conversation. I’m thinking that she might lose her mind, I’m thinking that she stopped loving me, I’m thinking I’m a burden to her.

It’s cold and I’m trembling, but there’s no way I’m going to sleep. I’m playing with the crumbles of bread on the table. The leftovers from our dinner…the table looks devastated, ugly, dirty and I don’t want this food! I wont eat and I wont sleep, I wont speak and I wont cry. I wont smile until…

She’s turning to me and I can’t even look at her. The swollen eyes, all red from crying, the greasy hair…She used to be beautiful, I hate this ugly side of her! She stars at me, but she can’t see me. She takes the big, sharp knife, the one I’m not supposed to touch and she’s starting to eat. That’s so silly, I’m laughing inside me, a nervous laugh. She’s eating the whole cake, piece by piece. She’s overweight and she’s eating the whole cake! The one I refused to taste before…

It’s my fault. I don’t know how, I don’t know why and I have no idea how to fix this. But it’s my fault. And I’m so small, so powerless, so…invisible. I hate her and I love her at the same time. I’m only 9…and I’m already a horrible person.

She needs a man in her life. Someone who’d make her laugh, someone who’d make her feel loved and beautiful. She needs the whole package! She needs a vacation, a sunny place. She needs a honeymoon. And I’m a burden. And my dad it’s an idiot. And she’s ugly, fat, depressive and hysterical. And I love her more than life itself…

It’s 2 o’clock in the night, I have school tomorrow. I leave her there, with the big knife, with her imaginary dialogue and her broken heart. I’m going to my room and I’m closing the door, using the key I stole from her. I open the window.

The boy from the Moon smiles at me. I smile back and I climb to the edge of my window. I open my arms like flying, but still I’m not brave enough. I still can’t take the fall. Maybe tomorrow.

“I swear I’ll never be like her! I’ll always be pretty and thin! I’ll never cry so my face wont get so ugly and wrinkled! I’ll wear pretty dresses and my hair will be long and shiny. My husband will love me! He’ll take me to sunny places and we’ll have the perfect family.”

Yeah, right.

You know how flames can hypnotize…


I will blame the full moon for my loss of reason, I will take no responsibility at all. I will assume that I’m too weak to resist, so I wont fight at all. I will let them win. Flames. Temptations. Attractions. Desires. They’ll lead me to the gates of hell and that’s exactly where I need to be.

“Do you want to dance?”

I do and I don’t. His blue eyes are filled with promises of lust and agony. But I can’t dance, I’m too busy running away from myself. I’m going deeper and further into this fire, but still, no one will see the burns. They’re hidden, secret scars, unspoken and unknown.

“Do you want to lay in my arms, here under the starry skies?”

With lazy, seductive gestures, he shows me his own paradise, convinced that, once I’ve seen it, I wont be able to say no. Sweet naivety, you are truly the fools blessing! I’m here searching for the gate to hell! Don’t ask me why am I going there, don’t!

“Or maybe you need someone to talk to…”

Or maybe not, since the effort of quieting the voices inside me left me breathless. I wont even try to be polite, I wont even pretend that I don’t know his true intentions. But he’s not, he’s fake…he doesn’t hold the keys, so I’ll simply walk away with my sarcastic smile.

“Or just a shoulder to cry on…”

Little does he know that my tears dried and my pain is a silent one. And even if he would know, why would he care? A meaningless expression of an impossible friendship. So much compassion and care here, on our way to destruction. Ironic, right? Where the forever flames burn high, there is no time, nor place for tears.

“Do you want to join us?”

Moment of truth. How should I play it? We’re at the gates of hell, surrounded by burning flames and deep temptations. Faith, honor, honesty and friendship mean nothing in here. Care and compassion, love and tolerance are simple words meant to bring us closer…

There’s only one way. With the sweetest smile and the gentlest voice, soft moves and a polite approach.

“Full moon brought me here and I was too weak to resist…”

“That’s good, we love your fragility.”

“Will you open the gates of hell for me? Just once? Please…”


“Because you know…flames always hypnotized me, just like your eyes. To dance in the flames, to let them burn the very last trace of light…I need you to open the gates for me…because maybe I’m just too weak…to do it myself.”

The yellowed eyes demon smiles. His arrogance is my advantage. He opens the gates of hell for me, at the right time…

…to grab her by her reaching arms and to pull her out. Out of the hell. 


Sometimes it’s not enough…

To just stay in a safe place, on a green hill, surrounded by golden light.

Sometimes, a cry for help comes straight from hell. Addiction, abuse, depression, eating disorder, suicide attempts, obsession…Call it as you chose. I will call them hell.

And I will cross the bridge to get there. In the heart of their agonizing pain.

The deep burning scars I’m getting…I guess I’m just blessed…

God heals me every time.


To be loved and to be free!

Health insurance or love conceptI’m here to give it all to you…

My love and my heart. My life and my destiny. My world and my everything. Every hope, every lost dream, every whispered prayer. Every tear.

Every fantasy of a world full of bright colors. And my everlasting desire for peace. My powers and my strength, along with every lost battle. All yours.

Because I am yours.

Here I am, putting my heart in your hands. You are my safe place. You, who took me into your loving arms when all the walls were tumbling down. You, who took my hand and guided me back home when I got lost. You, who loved the lost, vulnerable, crazy me!

And me…I shouted out so loud! Poisoned words, words of hate, words of anger. Rejection. Frustration. Denial. Pain. You heard them all and you stayed with me. You let me run away and still take me back, every single time.

I fell on my knees, begging for forgiveness and you smiled. You lifted me up, showing me the blue sky. Telling me how much you love me. How deep is your forgiveness and your understanding.

I love You.

And I need to tell you something, because it made me cry. You told me to bring you all my tears and pains. So, here is my story…

The class was almost over when I met him. The little boy with grey eyes and the desert’s sand color in his hair. He looked at me smiling and I felt a cold shiver.

He never smiles. Rarely speaks. Autism, they said…but there’s more. Much more. His smile was mean and he got closer, whispering through his teeth:

“He’s coming after you.”

In a complete lack of tact and inspiration, I just asked who…who’s coming after me…

“Your master. You know him. He’ll take you away. No one can help you.”

And he just ran with the meanest laugh I ever heard…

I was afraid and I shouldn’t have been. I was driven by fear too many times. I’m turning to you now…

It destroyed too many Christmas Eves. I let it take control over me completely and yes, it took me away. Year after year. And no one could help me because there, where I was, no love can survive.

I let it become my master and it played with my soul. I was alone, feeling unloved, unwanted, unsafe.

But here I am now, my Lord, my Christ, my Light…

This is the first year when I’m winning this war. Your love is my shelter.

And this is my prayer…not for me…but for so many people who struggle with an emptiness inside during Christmas time.

Depression was my master until You saved me. Please shine Your Light upon every blue heart, all around the world.

May they feel loved. And may they be free…

Merry Christmas, dear friends!

My soul is yearning for you…

The-BreakupI want to run to you with open arms and I want to cry like I never cried before. I need my tears to wash away this bitter fog that’s covering my senses. Because my eyes are blinder than ever and my ears can’t hear anymore the singing choir of angels…

I want to stop denying this fragility inside me and to break every fake smile into a thousand sharp pieces. To let them pierce this useless empty shell – my heart. Maybe inside of it I’ll find my inner light. Or not. But it wouldn’t matter, even darkness is brighter than my blurred visions…

I want to let it all go and to discover the fear of losing myself. If that’s what it takes, if that’s what I need, if my soul only awakens when being afraid. I need to be scared again because I don’t know how it feels to be loved. I’m not willing to learn…or am I?

With you as my guide. With you holding my world into your hands. Take me to the edge and show me the abyss, but stay with me till the end. I’ll gladly gave away an eternity of blue skies for a walk in the storm. With you.

I love you.

The piece of paper slipped from my trembling hands. I watched it flying away from the bridge to the black water below us. I saw it becoming one with the mud and I still couldn’t cry. I still wouldn’t grieve. I witness its disappearing in the dark waters and I blamed God. Me. You. Us. I blamed the blue skies, the withe pigeons, the smiling people around me. I blamed LIFE. And I hated it with despair.

You chose wrong. Why on heaven and earth would you chose to love another empty shell? Why in God’s name would you want to learn about love from a stoned heart? Why is it always too late…too dangerous…too complicated?

Why can’t you come back and tell it to my face? Every written word, every wasted heart beat? Why are you there and I am here, surrounded by Christmas’s lights, laughs and embraces? When I want none of them!

Come back into my dreams. Let me feel the pain of losing you again and again. Don’t stop, this pain will keep me alive. Because you died and I never had the chance to tell you…

I love you too.

In the loving memory of the love we aren’t given a chance to fight for. And for you, Gabriel.

That was when I ruled the world…


Who would have known that perfection can be so devastating? 

I didn’t understood her words. Whispered words, like talking to herself. In my own world, the main rule was surviving. And that didn’t included analyzing someone’s perfect life. None of my business…

She laughed.

I’m being silly, right? But today was the happiest day of my life. I guess I’m allowed to play a little. Wanna see my happy smile?

I mumbled something. A sort of yes and no at the same time. I couldn’t care less for her happiest day. Good for her! Rule number two: if they’re happy, let them be.

She smiled with bright, glorious eyes.

It’s not like every day you’re winning a beauty pageant, right? Imagine a huge stage and, when they called my name, all eyes were on me! I never felt so…Hey, let me show you the crown!

I looked at her trying to show just a little enthusiasm. I couldn’t. Half-smile from half-heart. The rest of me was frozen. “You have inner beauty, that’s more important than being pretty.” That’s what my dad said when I asked him if I’m beautiful. I hated him. Rule number three: If you can’t say something nice, keep the silence. So, I’ll be silent…

She sighted.

I felt like I’m in top of the world! You know the feeling? Have you ever felt like you rule the world? 

I excused myself, saying that I’m in such a hurry…In fact, I never knew the feeling. I was always like a falling leaf, carried by a wicked wind…Rule number four: Don’t speak about what you don’t know!

She wiped away an imaginary tear.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I shouldn’t feel so tired. I was there, on the stage and I had this crazy sensation like I need air. Like something was suffocating me, but it was…from inside of me. And I felt like crying and people believed they’re tears of joy…

Yeah, probably…(Rule number five: be polite but don’t be nosy. Stay away if it’s none of your business.)

…and they started to applaud. And I felt…lost. What could it be? Am I catching a cold? Oops…the elevator is here! Gotta fly like a pretty butterfly to the seventh floor! See you upstairs…hey, do you know you have amazing eyes? You could be a beauty queen yourself! 

She ran away so fast that I couldn’t say thank you. She said I have amazing eyes! And she said I could be a beauty queen! And I knew, right then, right there…The feeling. This is how it feels when you rule the world. A fifteen years old world!

A few hours later I was writing in the diary. The daily post. Entitled “I had the feeling that I’m ruling the world!”. I was just writing an inspirational ending when I heard a knock on my closed door.

With trembling hands, all pale and crying, my mother asked me to “don’t look down”


“down the balcony…they found her…what’s left of her anyway.”


“you know her…the girl from the seventh floor…it looks like she jumped.”


“just…please don’t look down. It’s a terrible sight…I can’t understand…she just won another beauty pageant…”


“oh, you’re in shock…actually, is not that shocking…she tried before, with pills, but her mother said it’s just…teenage moods…it seems that she was depressed…”


“please stop repeating the words. Yes, she was diagnosed with depression…but a very tricky form, because she was always happy and smiling and laughing around here…okay, go back to your home works or whatever were you doing…”

Rule number…

No. The Absolute Rule, cancelling all the rules ever made up by human minds:

Listen to the desperate call of the lost butterflies. Love them. Don’t let them walk alone when they’re so close to the edge. Love them again. Say it a thousand times and say it out loud. 

So they would ask for help before it’s too late…