• I like an empty airport
    I like a clean house
    An 8-hour train ride to nowhere
    a stranger
    and a “can I kiss you?” question
    I liked-liked
    before I loved

    The highs were always high; that’s just how it was in my head
    The lows were very low—always lying down on some floor
    I survived all my nights 
    No safety nets, no wiping my tears with pale hands by a yellow-haired-love-of-my-life
    I always liked a well-intended question
    and a sad-sad Girl Autumn Playlist 
    about a “sad affliction bravely borne” yet! misplaced
    substituted 
    like an object of daily use or worse
    rewarded with the real thing in the aftermath of the subsequent damage to my detriment: “a win is a win”
    I survived all my unkissed shins
    and new girls 
    the never seeing him again 
    a stranger
    wearing a hat
    a car brand hauntingly following me everywhere I go, ignoring my efforts of escaping the
    ineluctable 
    that’s your hell, my darling 
    burning in forever flames
    my highs have always been high
    and the lows? 
    …oh my,
    no safety net this time
    I am so ready
    so ready to jump
    I always liked a well-mannered soft sweet boy 
    not mine

    you always know before you meet the one
    they throw wide the door without knocking...now that I don’t feel anything? follow-on loss 
    or worse
    a well-versed major life setback: 
    “the moment your city starts feeling like a matchbook
    you are done, so done”


    I like an oversized hoodie and falling once and never again 
    An “I missed you” message never sent
    A soft spot; always telling the truth
    I like leaving dunes of ashes behind 
    carrying used matches in my very deep pockets
    only saving one intact (for emergencies)
    made in heaven 
    I like a cold floor in a bathroom—it’s like being happy on antidepressants 
    I cannot imagine how or why
    you always know before you meet the one
    I guess that’s the price I am paying for crying in his kitchen twice and never again—
    hell!

    In another life 
    my flight had a 7-hour delay
  • Humour me till it’s over
    I am another now and yet the same
    and all the things I wanted
    I don't want them anymore 
    unless you tell me to close my eyes and go back to that time, when...

    ...I was the one you wanted 
    how pathetic
    I know…I feel it all in my stupid sand-made bones 
    unbreakable unless you kindle them like a firecamp in the middle of nowhere in complete darkness—all you can see is the starry sky—it’s like looking back to that
    October 
    it’s like holding your hand—let’s go home—I blurt, twisting the threads to their tangliest Freudian slip
    from "we were happy" to "I don’t want to be here"—
    what a trip!
    and I’ll always be sad about it, 'cause
    misspoken words have killed us; that’s what happened, and I am heartbroken, 'cause
    there is a new "the one" every other year
    or maybe
    you never miss me; never regret the leaving and all the baggage ‘ cause leaving me meant finding her
    baggage-free
    All my poems, nothing less than
    colateral damage
    payback for missing on you
    or maybe I am just paying the price
    because you can’t be alone
    here I am rejecting everyone because 
    well, you know why , and still

    No regrets, no worries ...
    I’ve forced handles oftentimes 
    Just enough, to be sure
    ‘cause imagine waking up, years later, and realising that you had hurt her
    ‘cause imagine waking up in the middle of the night, drenched in the cold sweat of urgency,
    the dread of having walked away from someone precious eating you alive
    like a giving lover


    I’d rather run barefoot 
    and bruise my feet
    leaving behind bloody traces of effort
    At least my loyalty wasn't fake


    All the letters
    All my birthday cards 
    flowers, lions
    all the plants
    and the home-cooked dinners
    all the plans 
    and the blowjobs
    all that begging—


    All evidence of love:
    Imagine waking up one morning and realising that you had lost another friend - yeah.

    Humour me till it’s over:
    two liars 
    two lies
    You are fine
    And you are not the love of my love
    Was it even real?
    All of it...
    Fediverse Reactions
  • Trust me, I am a better leaver

    If I were to leave
    you would have known
    you would have never had to guess
    I would have left my job and given up my awesome apartment  in Prague
    I would have moved cities, no!
    countries
    somewhere where you need to board a plane or reserve a train seat to get home
    I would have blocked you on WhatsApp and Messenger (even though we never used that one)
    Reddit too!
    I would have tracked you down and blocked your account (how? Idk: cool cool; hot stuff; true; some smartass joke; that's what she said; ofc, I missed you; you are a witch; oui, me too)
    I would have never stalked you on LinkedIn just to make sure you are still in the city I once loved or working at the same company
    I wouldn’t have bothered to remember their logo
    If I knew I wasn’t staying forever, I wouldn’t have learnt your last name, or your phone number
    not even your address
    I would have killed every butterfly 
    early
    with my bare hands
    I would have slept around
    often
    to make sure you hate me and never get too close 
    I would have definitely used a condom with you—skin to skin is too final—irrevocably decisive
    that’s love in my book (yeah, the one about you, 'cause I am obssesive, compulsive and crazy...or maybe
    I merely cared?!)

    I would have never kissed my shins
    No meeting your friends (not even the girls, especially the girls!!!)
    No Christmas gifts that forever ruined certain fragrances for me—I still flinch whenever—yeah,
    whenever, but it’s never you… 
    If I were you and knew there was no future, I would have dated other people  right away
    I wouldn’t have let you sleep on my belly and pick a side in my bed
    I wouldn’t have cooked in your kitchen, or bought a toothbrush for your place
    I wouldn’t have left mine at yours either—when I close my eyes, I see myself on that second day after—
    I threw it away like you never happened—fell asleep on the bathroom floor surronded by used tissues—my flatmate had
    to call an ambulance because, yk, inconsolable stuff—it would pass, they said, but that must be how death feels for someone

    If I were to leave I would have left forever

    If I were you
    I wouldn’t have let you wear my hoodies
    I wouldn’t have kept them overly long—yk, when you told me about her—it was almost like my skin had
    been made of glass, and you broke it with one casual “oui” like it was easy—like it was meant to be—
    this—me writing a bunch of poems—you fucking her—this whole time—there is no right way to grieve—we both loved—but then—if I knew I was leaving, I would have been good at it—you would have never learned about someone else—I wound’t have hid behind a two-week silence and a funny storry about my flowers which were really really dead in a box—kinda' poetic—it would have been romantic if I weren't hyperventilating—did you do it to hurt me—kissing her shins—raw and vulnerable—sleeping at her place—weekends together—holding her hand—doubling down were you fell short with me—basically copy-pasting us—basically testing heartbreak on me like a freaking guinea pig—did you do it to finish me off—knowing I know—
    knowing I called it—a witch is a witch after all


    "If you knew you were leaving, at least you could have been good at it—yeah, I am a better leaver—
    If I knew I was leaving, I wouldn’t have stayed for so long—I wouldn’t have said I loved you—whatever that meant—I would have stopped you—I would have looked after you"


    So tell me how not everything was about me?*

  • You don’t want to be me
    I am a menace
    my hair’s always messy 
    and my thoughts racing
    twisting reality 
    scheming my next grand affair
    I will look you straight in the eyes and say something like:
    “I really missed you. I cared. I loved you.” Yet, don’t you dare believe that!
    I am deceiving myself
    In truth, the past tense is still present—so very present
    that I’d be making breakfast in my kitchen and see her making breakfast in his
    and then I cry like I have no self-worth 
    perhaps I don’t
    I mean, I said: “I really missed you. I cared. I loved you.”
    and he said nothing back (again)
    maybe because
    there is a she making breakfast in his kitchen...in the kitchen I was making breakfast for us
    and then I cry like I have no self-respect
    I mean, I really said: “I'm just jealous, so very jealous.”
    and I was (I still am)
    of her, of him wanting her, of them eating breakfast in that kitchen
    and then I cry like I have no tomorrows
    only yesterdays
    It’s all desperate:

    I want to be under his skin
    I want to be someone else 

    I hide in my bedroom
    I haven’t showered today
    brushing my teeth in the morning—an act of surrender
    getting out of bed—strenuous work to let someone go
    all a Sisyphus story—if I were him I’d let the boulder crush me—cheating on life like he has never loved me
    I am so used to “being” dramatic that I might think I am actually fine
    ‘cause it’s all in my head
    either way, it’s all a mind game—there is no such thing as depression
    you just move on; to the next one; you must do it anyway
    ‘cause there is no such thing as being unhappy
    all the time; all at once; a never ending battle with yourself and you are both losing
    a win nobody was betting on, and 
    he is still gambling against me
    leaving me in the buff
    ‘cause I am bluffing and there is no such thing as being always blue
    ‘cause “I am a sad person” I said 
    ‘cause “You are not,” he said 
    ‘cause “I am…” I said 

    You don’t want to be me, trust this

    I will never look sharp
    even when I try (and I try)
    my hair is always a bit funny 
    and my clothes are old, or wrinkled, or out of fashion
    I keep telling myself that it’s a choice: “I don’t care about this soulless stuff”
    but I do!

    I care about clothing that doesn’t fit me

    I will never look like the others. I am not a clean girl. I am a menace. I am a crazy person. I am a crybaby with sharper cheekbones. I am a mother. I am a father. I am an older sister. I am a best friend. I am a priest and a nun. I am an 89-year-old man dying of lung cancer who hasn’t smoked a day in his life, but his wife did, and damn it, it was all worth it. I am the girl he met on a dating app, waiting for him on the Rudolfinium stairs in mid-June. I am the girl he was afraid of losing on March 21 and the girl he watched leaving on April 6, and then again on July 2nd two years later. I am a tired woman sleeping 14 hours a day. I am a muse, a bro, an insatiable lover
    maybe that was the problem—he simply wanted me to be her (insert random)
    ‘cause I dress like a witch and I curse like one 
    I stumble and get lost all the time; I eat very slowly
    and my grammar is bad when I am tired, or ecstatic, or safe like a child
    that must have caused it…my bad grammar

    I can’t move when I am anxious—I don’t leave with grace

    leaving is easy
    the easiest thing in the world (ask him he must know)
    you don’t want to be me
    I really stayed. I really begged. I really wanted him to come back. 
    I don’t want to be me. I want
    to be
    someone else
    her, if I may

  • If you are going to leave
    leave completely
    leave utterly
    leave (what’s another word for describing a death?)
    cut the cords, and all the red strings
    untie all the destiny threads
    burn the bridges and the castle’s gates
    set on fire the entire city if you must
    and raze to the ground
    all my pillow fortresses 
    heighten defences—I am here to take everything from you
    that’s why
    that’s why I am crying

    If you are leaving
    don’t say: “I don’t know”
    say: “It’s time”
    say: “I made a mistake”
    say: “It wasn’t true”

    It’s one of those days when I miss you so much 
    I almost think you might too

    If you are leaving
    be precise like a headsman
    a clear-cut
    that’s it
    no room to bargain with the devil—’cause yk I have ways
    I’d be hexing and cursing
    caging you with my thighs
    don’t avoid my glance
    be cruel
    as if kicking a puppy, or
    stealing a candy from a child, or
    inviting everyone except one to a birthday party
    sit me down
    don’t say nothing, don’t say you are fine
    say you’ve been unhappy, and cannot sleep at night
    say it’s my fault
    say you are not ready—don’t kill me with kindness
    kindness is love
    hunt me down 
    for months
    silently waiting
    taking your time
    do not rush
    it’s almost like fucking 
    you want to hit that sweet soft spot
    when I am defeated and warm—all yours
    one shot
    and it’s done (I am done)

    If you are leaving
    leave by meaning leaving
    don’t leave saying 
    you love me
    too

  • You know what’s crazy? {Imagine wanting something that you already had and knowing you will never have it again, and forever remembering every single minute of it}
    
    I’ll be damned
    ‘cause nothing’s quite as good
    
    It’s almost like food had lost its taste
    and the sun is not warming, but burning skin, hair, bones, everything faceless
    
    I keep watching myself from above
    like I’ve already been here before, and I had everything I ever wanted. I will always taste the salt
    on his lips
    their warmth
    and drops on my cheeks almost like kissing under the rain
    but wetter
    sadder
    'cause he had her
    there is nothing else to be compared.
    
    That must be the definition of losing things...now that's something I surely know)
    Fediverse Reactions
  • try harder
    explain more carefully
    watch your body language
    do not take too much space
    watch his body language
    read his eyes
    read the subtext, the subtitles of his broken language
    take care of his inner child
    make him feel safe
    completely abandon yours
    begging and crying in the hallway
    send another message
    another lengthy letter
    reassure over and over again 
    this time less needy, less clingy, less lovingly
    get a PhD in psychology
    enter psychosis but never text him 'cause boundaries!!!
    learn all about attachment styles
    go to yoga 5 times a week, find another studio—anything just to keep him comfortable and it doesn’t matter that
    you've been giving up everything you ever loved. God forbit he’d think you are stalking
    close the door, but never lock it
    if you can, make sure it’s slightly ajar
    just in case
    one Saturday morning he wakes up ready (for someone else)
    wish him happy birthday even though he’d failed to be your friend that last time you hurt yourself against his walls
    protect his walls at all costs, but make sure yours are low, and fenceless
    delete every word you’ve ever written, God forbid he’d accidently stumble upon your blog and realize you are still in pain
    do not move on
    stay stuck at arm’s length, stay loyal, stay in love
    but do not! do you hear? do not show it!!!
    never cry never scream never speak up
    just be quiet and bury it all inside
    if possible stop existing and if you run into him on the street in the same neighborhood where you work, pretend you don’t kow him, actually no, just evaporate like a cloud that used to be rain
    never stop yearning
    keep writing books and soapy poems just in case he ever considers to consider you
    cut all your hair off and then let it grow out 
    get off pills and start taking them again, different ones, stronger ones, anything just to forget yourself and fall asleep
    spend all your money on mental-health support while watching him buy a new car
    also, very important! never, but never hold him accountable!
    just skip a few steps and blame yourself; ideally, tattoo on your forehead: Not the one, but still around! 
    let it die! where possible, pretend it never happened, just move on and never talk about it
    and under no circumstances tell him you love him!!! 
    never admit you are unhappy; never ask for his help
    and if you do, say it as a joke, or casually, or nonchalantly
    keep the conversation shallow, never go too deep; the ships are sinking when the goods are too heavy 
    but again, the best case scenario is to throw yourself aboard
    understand every hesitation, every voice crack, read every thought 
    never expect a confrontation
    believe the “I am fine” but follow up anyway
    however, never trust the “nothing” ‘cause it’s always “something”; it’s just your job to know that
    act ok when he moves on, no jealousy, no crocodile tears, no drama
    act ok when he brushes you off like a bad dream and never reaches out 
    act ok when he is "figuring it out" with her while he is in the red in your book
    underlined!

    There is a reason he left, and it’s you!

    Fediverse Reactions
  • The crying 
    smelling my hair in the hallway that second time you left
    kissing my shins that last time you stayed

    Telling me about her

    breaking my trust; breaking your promise—never figuring it out 
    Taking everything from me—funny how the tables have turned
    wasting my words, my light, my joy
    making me feel stupid for caring
    calling me crazy
    being my safe place
    lying straight to my face
    avoiding me on the street
    making my yellow flowers mean nothing

    Telling me about her 

    the stupid dismissive “oui”
    dancing with her on my grave
    leaving like a fucking coward, not once, not twice, three times is a charm
    sharing a bed
    Feigning as my soft sweet boy—in truth a two-faced whore
    letting me want you, want you, and wanting
    reading my letters, not writing back once
    giving me flowers twice, that's it, that's fucking it
    making a promise 
    never walking with me
    leaving the life—on my account
    lingering
    always being tired, hangover or something 
    “yeah…”
    the stupid cheerful “oui” 
    Not answering my messages for 2 days, then ruining me and my Sunday night (I didn't sleep btw, for like 4 days after that)
    Spending weekends together—and was I supposed to know what you meant by that? I did.
    Never watching my shows
    Not fixing anything 
    Never trying 
    Locking me away in a mental box labelled “bro” and “DANGER - she loves me!” RUN!!!
    Mirroring my microexpressions in a random bar
    Never being sorry…
    Hiding behind not knowing and “a convoluted joke” or “a girl I am dating…
    yeah, off-and-on more than a year now, I guess”
    Building more walls
    smelling my hair in the hallway that second time you left
    playing stupid
    Watching me leave with your door ajar, not going after me, not saying anything, just watching.
    Trying with her
    not trying with me
    wearing masks
    acting all healed and nonchalant…fucking disgusting 
    Saying you loved me right before 
    never actually checking in on me for a whole year!!!
    not touching me for 3 weeks after a fight where I did all the fighting, because you just checked out…fucking dead weight 

    Telling me about her like I was an old buddy—I used to swallow your cum, I am sure you remember—it ruined my night, btw and my morning, and my following week—I am still waiting to feel something—it’s like the world is spinning while I am falling and can't seem to stop
    living on a fence—
    crying in my arms then saying the most heart-retching shit you can imagine
    something like: “I am not enjoying spending time with you anymore” 
    implying something like: “I did enjoy spending time with you, at some point, but not anymore, no” and
    calling that shit love—love is a verb, not a unicorn feeling—it means little if you never show up
    Chasing the thrill of being always right
    using me as a placeholder for the last ex—every other year—I see a pattern 
    abandoning a drowning friend
    Making me the villain 
    barely initiating 
    Never going out to dance
    pursuing someone who told you on the third date she wanted to get married 
    Always “needing to see my face” in fucking missionary
    Puppy eyes, shaking hands, spending weekends together, Wednesdays, afternoon sex, Monday mornings,
    meeting your friends, dinners, watering your plants, giving you head, wanting more of that, promising to figure it out, bro and “oh, my…” and
    never holding my hand in public
    calling me a “witch” in May 2025 and right after 
    “trying again” with someone else (I never was too good at math, but I am assuming that's what “more than a year” means) 
    Telling me about her like I am made of candyfloss—if you stub me I'll bleed. I do remember how you cried while leaning your forehead on my belly and I am
    losing my mind
    still
    dancing on my grave, yet breathing every day
    proving your ex was right
    calling my grief ranting

    NEVER COMING BACK

    Refusing to face the shallow, the empty, the soulless
    Crying in my fucking face not once, not twice, three is a charm 
    Trashing everything alive in me 


    To love love


    ...if there is any god…you’ll make it right, right?

  • The bridges had burnt a long time ago; you haven’t even noticed
    I know you tried to save the ashes
    I guess the bird got tired of dying and rising and dying again
    It’s kinda romantic if you think about it
    I couldn’t be a witch forever
    you had to burn me at the stake
    this is no miracle
    I have no superpowers
    If you kill me I’ll stay dead


    We only say the truth when we know it's too late to change something:

    The bridges had burnt a long time ago; I haven’t even noticed
    There was no goodbye kiss at 2 am, no last words, no lingering looks

    It’s way worse

    I want to pack all my shit and leave
    I want to run barefoot through broken glass
    I want it to bruise my feet—I want to feel something, something else
    I want to fuck a stranger and let him cum in my mouth—I want to hurt myself like that
    I want to unlove, uncare, uncrave, unremember
    I want to cut pieces of myself into smaller pieces and then, then break down into dust, get
    blown away like a dandelion, but of flesh and bone—it’s all brutal
    I want to sink deeper and deeper within until all that's left are long black hairs and poems
    I want to stop writing; delete every word; hide every thought—yeah, I want to hurt myself—
    I got so good at explaining that I forgot to be understood
    I want to scratch my eyes out
    It’s all ruthless: my shins her shins
    my kisses her kisses
    my head her head
    my side of the bed her side of the bed
    my kitchen my spatulas my ice cream in his fridge her kitchen her spatulas her ice cream
    my 10 months her over a year
    my warm water her warm water
    my soft sweet boy her soft sweet boy
    my yoga studio across the street her yoga studio across the street
    my Wednesdays her Wednesdays
    my hoodies her hoodies
    my loft in New York her loft in Brooklyn 
    my sex on the windowsill her sex on the windowsill
    my shows her shows
    my weekends her weekends
    my books on his shelf her stuff
    my toothbrush on his sink her toothbrush next to his 
    my vanilla body milk her tampons

    it’s all vicious

    I want to throw up 3 times a day and choke on a tiny piece of apple
    I want to jump from a very tall building and spiral down a vortex, like draining a bathtub after a failed attempt, almost wasteful
    I want to be 18 again and cry in my bathroom, and harm myself with the truth: “I don’t want to be here”
    I want to burn all of my clothes and 
    my shins her shins it’s all the same it’s all twisted 
    I don’t want to be here
    I don’t want to be here

    I don’t want to be here
    I don't
    want
    to be

  • “She is very pretty and doesn’t like me at all”
    “I like-like you”
    “I am not going anywhere”
    "I like how you move your wrists"
    “I am glad I met you”

    “Bro”
    “Take everything from me”
    "I AM happy"
    “You are gorgeous”
    "Shall we rename this to Maj Poem?"
    “You smell really good”
    “I love the little dance you do when you eat something you like”
    "Would you want to meet my friends?"
    “I love how you just rolled your eyes; is it that good for you?”

    “Oh wow”
    "I am taking you on a secret trip as your birthday gift...not a hike, I am not an idiot"
    “You are slow-eating-your-way to my heart”

    “Me too”
    "We'll figure it out"
    “I am still here”

    “You are easy to talk to”
    “Ofc we can be friends”
    “Ofc I will come, just got home after my basketball game, but I will come”
    “Ofc I missed you”
    “You have me”
    “You are fascinating”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    “You are a witch”
    "You are a witch"
    “You are a witch”
    "..."

    ***

    I care about you
    “I don’t care if you sleep with other men”
    I care about you
    “Don’t you have a life?”
    I care about you
    “I don’t want to kiss you sometimes”
    I care about you
    “I think we lack chemistry”
    I care about you
    <Do you want me?> "Yes...?!"
    I care about you
    “I am not ready”
    I care about you
    ✓✓
    I care about you
    “It’s all moving too fast”
    I care about you
    “There are so many things I need to do with my life”
    I care about you
    "I can't sleep"
    I care about you
    “But I think you are not the one”
    I care about you
    “I don’t want to date ANYONE”
    I care about you
    “I don’t know if I will ever find someone as beautiful and smart and funny as you, but I cannot do this.”
    I care about you
    “I will try again (with someone else)”
    I care about you
    “You are making yourself cry”
    I care about you
    ✓✓
    I care about you
    “You are crazy”
    I care about you
    “You are being invasive”
    I care about you
    "She doesn't laugh at my jokes, but you do"
    I care about you
    “I don't enjoy spending time with you anymore"
    I care about you
    “I slept with a coworker of mine”
    I care about you
    “I know what women want (OTHER. not you. I never asked.)”
    I care about you
    “Am I supposed to remember your address?”
    I care about you
    “I am not that scary”
    I care about you
    “I can’t help you”
    I care about you
    “You didn’t wish me happy birthday either”
    I care about you
    "hence, the mirrage"
    I care about you
    ✓✓
    I care about you
    “I asked a girl I am dating to pick them up (the flowers, yellow, the same flowers I used to give you)”
    I care about you
    “...off and on for over a year now…I guess”
    I care about you
    “I don’t want to discuss this with you”
    I care about you
    ✓✓

    all my friends hate you now
    and don’t wish you well
    all your exes hate you now
    and don’t wish you well


    I care about you
    "Me too"






    "I care about you"

    Fediverse Reactions