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



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


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.


boat-2751842_960_720When moonlight rises into twilight, turning my silence into lullabies, I’m hungry for your love.

To paint the white echoes of your memories in crazy, vivid nuances,

Tell me you want me…

When angels leave and ghosts are nesting in my soul, only your voice will calm the hurricanes that scream inside me!

Trying to save my long lost conscience from drowning in despair,

Promise you’ll be…

When shelters crash and walls are breaking into this homeless, loveless inner world, I need your body to become my safe place.

Destroy the barricades between your heart and mine,

Say that you can…

I’m homesick and you know it, it feels in every kiss!

So bring me home, my love

Back to the place where you were yearning to adore me…

This time – Make it eternal.



All credits for the photo to the talented Patricia Alexandre from





Lavender fields

lavender-2426376_960_720Meet me where blue petals dance in swirling winds and air is filled with wonder and bewilderment. I’m waiting there, my love.

Dressed in flowers and white butterflies, my skin will mesmerize your senses, sweet scents embracing naked souls in their flight to the promised bliss.

You’ll ask me if I’m a fairy, but I’ll only smile, leaving all witchcraft behind, for you were mine since the beginning of the earth.

I’ll ask you if you’re my long lost warrior, the one who fought odds and hazardous labyrinths, beasts and villains, kingdoms and infernos.

You’ll stop me with a kiss, for talking is nonsense and logic is overrated. I’ll laugh.

My hair will taste like summer on your lips, long golden curls nesting on your bare chest, like seraphs roaming between worlds and universes.

My sweet, you’ll call me…my everything you’ll be…

I’ll whisper your name like a spell that kills all heartbreak, in melancholic songs you’ll praise the beauty of this endless yearning for warmth.

But then, out of the blue, I’ll cross the bridge to reality, leaving our love behind, while you sleep smiling in your dreams, in cradles made of tall grass and tender blue petals.

Don’t be so sad, it’s not unfair, nor cruel or devastating…

For we belong to the lavender fields

and we will meet again…

when blue is blooming in our foolish dreams.



All credits for the photo to the talented S. Hermann from


No need to forgive, no need to forget…


“Was it just another metaphor? People closed the churches…”

“…so God opened a church in every loving heart. It sounds like a metaphor, but it’s what I truly feel. It wasn’t me who said it first, but I just love the feeling…”

There we were, sitting on a bench in front of a closed church, searching for a closure. As ironic as it sounds. Me and Christian…both of us knowing that good stories never truly end. That there’s no way to define this relationship that seemed to be old as time and still new, every time we see each other.

“What are you truly asking me, Chris?”

I said it in a soft voice, almost like talking to a child, because, despite of his bravery, in spite of his anger, his heart is just as fragile as mine. And his relationship with God is marked by bitterness, pain, resentment, rejection. His searches for love are always ending in tragedy. Not this time, not with me.

“The church in your heart, does it offer any salvation?”

I smiled and gently touched his face.

“We saved each other far too many times. I’m more than that girl you once found, crying in the rain, completely broken, so alone and so ravished…You held me through the hardest part, so my church is built on your love for me.”

“I’m more than the broken man you once smiled to, the lost, the drugged, the suicidal, the dark one. You said I can be more, so I became more. I became stronger and better. So where’s my reward? You should have been my reward! So my church is built on this never ending longing…”

And suddenly, I understood his anger. His resentment. His determination to play this role of “dark knight”. His choice for a “church” in complete opposition to Christianity.

Because I was there too! I still am…in love with the one who can’t love me back.

I thought that my love will move mountains! I thought that being the perfect wife, partner, lover, friend will be somehow rewarded. I loved until I was too exhausted to live. And I broke down in pieces when I finally realized that I loved in vain.

“I guess it’s too late for me to be forgiven…”


He mistook my silence for rejection, so I just cupped his face, getting lost, once again, into the burning flames of his eyes.

“I love you, Chris. In ways I cannot explain. I don’t think this could ever change, nor I want to change it.”

“Forgive me. For stalking you. For hating you. For invoking demons, for using black magic, for every stupid, mean, wrong thing I ever did in order to have you. For stealing, for lying, for shocking you in every way I could…Forgive me.”

I hugged him tighter, knowing how hard it was for him to take off the mask, to abandon his role, to be fragile in a world that demands us to be made of stone and iron.

“No need to forgive, you are loved…” I whispered.

And this time, I spoke to myself too.



All credits for the photo to the talented Jakob Wiesinger from

Nothing holy about us

powder-snow-496875_960_720” -You have angels in your hair.”

He reached out his hand to touch my rebellious lock of hair, that escaped the braid and kept dancing in the wind. But then he stopped with his fingers in the air, his eyes lost somewhere in the unseen.

I found myself speaking:

“I have a confession to make. I did something.”

” -You did something…Okay, I have a confession too.”

“Aww…sure, tell me.”

” -You first”

He was different and, yet, the fire was still burning in his eyes, the calm was still hiding the monsters he’s fighting, his silence was still speaking louder than any scream. Or, maybe, I was different today. With him. For him.

“So…I have a blog. I wrote about you. I know I should have ask for your permission… I protected your identity, I swear I did! I might have exaggerate a little and some parts were wishful thinking. I created a special category on my blog and I named it “Christian – the dark side of love”. I thought it could be a novel some day. But only…”

” -A novel?!”

“only if you agree. Christian…I know it’s wrong…”

” -Wrong?”

“and if you want, I’ll just delete the whole thing. I will! It’s just…when I wrote, even the bad parts…it was…I wrote it…”

That’s when I got lost. Completely blinded by the ocean of dark flowing from his eyes.

” -You wrote it with love. That’s what you’re trying to say. I read it, I loved it. Even the part where I’m pictured like some kind of deity of shadows. Even when you turned my luciferian beliefs into a worshiping of Hell. You lied.”

The pause in his speech made my heart escape a beat and my eyes filled with tears.

“You lied. I’m not that hot!”

And he started to laugh, seeing the panic in my eyes, and it was so unfamiliar, so relieving, so normal…that I just burst into tears, laughing at the same time.

“You’re not that hot? That’s something only I would say. You were supposed to be more…more…angry…And, wait, you knew about the blog? And you said nothing? Why?”

” -Maybe I wanted to see how our story will end? Maybe I wanted you to be mine, even if it would be only fictional? Or maybe, just maybe…”


He got dangerously close.

“maybe I love being the prince of darkness in all of your fantasies.”

I smiled. There was a little part of me who was still dreaming of running away with him. He was more than the classic “bad boy”, he was crossing a certain line, a certain limit I was told not to get close to, ever.

” -It was the dark in you aching to be acknowledged, expressed, accepted, even loved.”

I nodded. How is he always reading my unexpressed questions?

” -It was the light in me that needed to burn brighter. With you. And that’s not a sin, nor a bravery. It’s just who we are. Pure as snow, cold as ice, we are the sum of our fantasies. 

And, you know, there’s nothing holy about us. Except for Love.”


(to be continued)


All credits for the photo to the talented Anja from


dream-catcher-4065288_960_720I see wild storms rising in your eyes. 

That’s what she told me with a smile, the lost little girl. She was wearing her favorite dress, with blooming flowers on a pink horizon. She smiled and light rolled over her blushed cheeks.

I think you’ll wander for a while, lost in the rain.

She played with the big white ribbons in her hair, until blonde curls flew freely in the summer’s wind. Then, as a last symbol of her resistance to monotony, she threw away her white shoes. She laughed to see them floating and disappearing in the highs.

You’ll see the light eventually, but you’ll be too frightened to admit it.

You always are.

Her palms drew circles in the thin air, leaving golden traces, coloring the unseen into a million sparkles. She turned to me with impossible bright eyes.

You’ll run away a thousand times. The storm will almost break you. I see you searching, foolishly choosing, settling with less than crumbles. Blind to real love, for you mistook it for addiction! I see you – You Fool! – and it makes me cry.

She stood there, silently crying rivers of blue diamonds, until the sky above us became one with this ocean of hopelessness and pain. That’s when I fell.

Down on my knees, I was begging the Heavens above for one more smile.

For one more glimpse into the Light.

You have to step into the darkness, to return home. Where love is everlasting and wishes do come true. Where you two, silly dreamers, will rise in love. 

“Who are you?” I asked her, while she spread her wings and melted away in rainbows of light.

“Who is he? Who is my silly dreamer?” I whispered into the wind, too weak to find faith, too lonely to care about my losses.

Look for green eyes and lighthearted smiles. For the poetry that rhymes like a love song and for the rhapsodist who’ll write with light into your soul. Search for the everlasting.

And morning dissolved my mesmerizing dream.


(to Frankie)


All credits for the photo to the talented Anke Sundermeier from










Bless me with rain

cherry-blossoms-in-the-rain-2090345_960_720Silky and airy – fingertips touching clouds,

Insatiably sweet – rain on my lips,

Kisses from a thirsty burning sky…

Old cherry trees, slow dancing in the misty light.

Blue petals in my hair.


Where do you fly so suddenly – white birds of summer?

Behind the dark, is there a brighter place?

Thief, playful wind! Give me the kisses!

The butterflies you stole from yesterday’s dream!

Soft whispers of my heart.


One with the sky – my dream was dying,

From ashes to restore my faith in Love!

This time I will…I promise to remember

How roses bloom in corners of my mouth.

The traces of your light.


I know this storm, it’s gonna be so gruesome!

I feel its voice, it hollows through my soul…

Bless me with rain, oh, God of thunders!

So that my cry would stay unseen

Into the blindness.


Blue petals in my hair, soft whispers of my heart,

The traces of your light into the blindness.

Is it a dream? There’s no sense in this rain!

No sense at all

To feel so lonely.



All credits for the photo to the talented Jan Haerer from