“I couldn’t write a word about it, although I died in my head.”

— Sylvia Plath, from The Unabridged Journals Of Sylvia Plath


You just can’t go around blaming people for the things you feel.

My chest was griping too hard to my “sanity”. That alone, made the idea of breathing hurt. I wished for a split of a second that my throat would sting less, and I’ll be able to swallow the anger pilling in the back of my palms. Cuz they were closed shut, nails eating trough flesh, leaving moon like scars behind.

The light was too bright for my eyes, and they were desperately fighting to wash away the pain filled with the stubbornness to not lose focus on the blurry letters in front of me.

Blame me! screamed Hope.

So I did.

I spit up the excitement and the sparks that were seeding slowly in me for days. I whipped my lips with the back of my hand, like I’ve been wearing the wrong shade of lipstick. The one, that didn’t fit me at all, but somehow I managed to pull it off just to make my smile look real.

I sit across from you. You smile softly. There’s that warm sensation that feeds my blood and gets my heart pumping faster. Have I ever told you how much I enjoy seeing you smile? That, so beautiful, yet so rare smile of yours. Million times before.

You’re grabbing my hands, cupping them between yours, and that, simple action, makes me go fuzzy inside. You whisper something into my ear. I can’t hear you, but I nod and lean over to kiss your cheek. It feels so soft under my lips, that goose bumps start rising on my skin. I can’t take my eyes away from yours. They’re a soft brown. The one that takes you places and make you feel like home. I shift my hands and move them over to brush your hair. I always wanted to do that, to tease it, you. I move closer. I dreamed about kissing your neck and how your skin would feel under my lips. I take in your smell and I remember a song. That makes me giggle. Can’t keep my hands to myself.

You watch me curious, and I wonder how long it will take for the elevator to stop and for me to wake up, and step away.

I sit across from you. But inside, you pull me closer. I shiver.

Protejat: .Act of 3.

Acest conținut este protejat cu parolă. Pentru a-l vizualiza te rog să introduci parola mai jos:

Protejat: .Act of 3.

Acest conținut este protejat cu parolă. Pentru a-l vizualiza te rog să introduci parola mai jos:




S-a rostogolit grăbită,

surprinsă de lumina palidă a lumânării,

purtând urme de doliu în atingerea sa.

S-a frânt sub degete furioase

înainte să păteze buzele roșii

să dea satisfacție Păcatului.



It stumbled hurried,

A blurry glimpse

Catched by the pale candle light

Wearing shades of black in its touch.

It crumbled under angry fingers

Before she stained red lips

Giving the Sin satisfaction.

Broken hearts


  • C’mon ! Jump ! Embrace it Em ! There’s nothing for us here, but smiles, dancing and oblivion.

She jumped,  the pale pink oh her dress swallowed by water, her last words lost in the autumn wind. When she reached surface, her blue eyes were beaming, the sunset reflecting its fire in her determination.

And that’s how she will remember Lila. Like the girl who tumbled into the river even though the water was freezing, like there was nothing there to stop her (beside that nasty cold she got after that). A smile slowly curved her trembling lips. That moment engraved in a frame in her memories.

She looked at the cloudy sky, and raised the beer bottle.

  • For the mess you were, for not giving up on me, for taking that leap of faith when the world didn’t give us the slightest chance; I miss you! You horrible selfish person. You left me behind, you … you…

As the first stars peered through the clouds, lighting the grave, the moon found in its shine, a curled up Em asleep and a couple of empty bottles, scattered in the grass. There was so much pain and tiredness engraved in her features.  So she watched over them that night, making sure they’ll see each other one last time, in a place where sorrow couldn’t reach them.