love

Soul Mates

~ Gita ~ Leave a comment

I asked him: are we soulmates, you think?

He says: of course… or maybe not, I don’t know.

Those are opposites, I said.

I think that’s the definition of who we are, he replied.

To which I asked: please explain which one it is and what you mean?

He said: I think we’re meant to be together, I don’t know if we’re soulmates. I think those are two different things. On certain levels we are, yeah.. but I don’t know if we truly are soulmates.

But so if we are not soulmates, although we are meant to be together, wouldn’t you regret not being with your actual soulmate, I asked in return.

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Emotional slavery

~ Gita ~ 1 Comment

It has always been like this and it will always be like this. Men just want me to fulfill some kind of fetish or fantasy. I’m a challenge, a trophy to them. Once won, it’s done. Nothing left but to polish and admire from time to time.

I am not worth any trouble. I am not worth any effort. I am not worth the time or thought. I am not worth to work or try for after the initial goal is achieved. I am not worth to be loved, that’s why I compensate with over-loving others. So at the end, the general love balance is still evened out somehow. I always put in more of myself because I already know I can’t count on anyone filling in the gaps for me. What I anticipate for others, can’t be done in return, because people would have to care and understand too much, too far out of their comfort zone.

I’m supposed to be satisfied and even impressed by little irregularities that might flatter me. I may not receive grand gestures or even just consistencies, and I may not ask for or expect them. I may not express any disappointment, or criticism on how unfair and unbalanced the reality of my relationship is. I should count myself lucky, as difficult to love as I am, that people put up with me as it is. I feel as though I buy people’s love and affection, care and understanding, time and attention, paying with everything I am and have… getting just less than the bare minimum in return. Emotional slavery.

Brown Angel

~ Gita ~ Leave a comment

Brown walking angel
Your hairs are your wings
You stumble yet always arrive
Around my shoulders
You’re wrapped
In my heart you thrive
I like to capture
You in my hands like fireflies
Glowing while fluttering
I’ll never reveal your disguise
Our tiny secret
Like our kisses
Under velvet night skies
Sparkling with hope
Bourbon glistening angel
With your wings draped and dark
You came down from heaven
Yet you shine like above the stars

Life line.

~ Gita ~ Leave a comment

All she wanted was a hug
A kiss, a warm consoling hand
On any part of her skin
When she told you she longs to no longer live
All she wanted was a few seconds of your time
Not hours, like you assumed
And yes you gave hours of your day to her
Spending time together, having fun
Watching videos, cuddling on the couch

But in this moment
She lost all of herself like the fleeting reflection of a moons full cycle into the new

She knew it would return, but right now there was nothing
Not even a speck of light
And all

She needed was a hug, a kiss
A warm consoling hand
On any part of her skin

But you said you had to work
You don’t have time for this right now
She asked you if she could die
You said no, but you showed her yes
By dismissing her pain, dismissing her clear call for your positive attention
You had to work cause your deadline wouldn’t wait

Wasting all week for the last moment to never make it in time to keep your promises anyway
Maybe she’ll jump your dead line some day
That used to be a life line but you pulled it away.

Depression

~ Gita ~ Leave a comment

This is not about you
But you won’t understand
Or consider even
What I might be feeling

This is about battles I fight
Have lost a million times
Have the proof in the lines
On my wrist up to my elbow

This is not about you
Or anyone else
Because I can’t call for help
Because I don’t want to
Scare or worry anyone

This is not about them
I don’t want to hurt anyone 
But I need to not want
To hurt myself as well
I can’t remove that feeling

If this is not about me
Then who am I doing this for
Staying strong
Not giving in
The urge to cut my skin

If this is about life
I don’t want any of it
Never did
Never will
Nothing good for me to come
Nothing good to remember

If this is about love
Then why is it not about me
Why can’t I love myself enough
To protect myself from this
Hurt inflicted by myself

This is not about anything
I want to feel nothing
But the hurt I feel inside
Is worse than any wound
I’ve ever caused

This is not about me
Or you
Or them
This is about depression
A disease I will never defeat

Every battle I win or lose
Is just postponing
The next to come
It will always merely be a wait
Until my heart will not longer beat
Until the final breath I take

Message in a bottle 

~ Gita ~ Leave a comment

I wrote down my love
Rolled up the message in a bottle
Sealed with a kiss
I put it to drift in the sea
To travel across oceans of hope
To reach the shores of your heart
Ever since we grew apart

Stick your feet in the sand
Let it coat your skin
Feel the suction of the water
You might see a piece of me within
When you do, all I ask
Not for a response, but
Read my love for you

Some Day

~ Gita ~ Leave a comment

Some day you’ll say
You were never in love with me
That I was just a lesson
A justified mistake
Because I seemed better
At first than what I turned out to be

Some day you’ll be
Happy that this regret didn’t continue
That you are released
A relief it must be
Now that it’s over
At last nothing is any longer bothering you

Some day perhaps
Though, you will come to see
What you have done also
How I was affected
By your demeanor and rejection
At least feeling worthless wasn’t new to me

Love, kindness and maybe art

~ Gita ~ Leave a comment

I will sleep when I need to
Leave me alone
With your structure and standards
With your routines and rules
System this, regulation that
I will live as my
Body, mind and spirit
Feel adequate so
I live to heal and grow
Feed my soul
Nothing of this world constructed
By mankind other than kindness
Love and maybe art
Are in which I’d want to take part
Or enclose in my heart
Leave me out of your
Over socialized society
With only lonely people
Attached to detachment
Plus vice versa
Pretending, lying, masks on, dying
Always crying
Never showing
Always trying
Never knowing
The only life I’m in
Is of learning and growing
Not surviving ongoing
For flying and soaring
Leave me out of your life
Of grids and boxes
Of lines
I want shapes and colors
Unnaturally
Inexplicable
And unpredictable
Keep the organized
The crime and cruelty
The steps and plans and forms
The maps, the can’ts and won’ts
I will not ever participate to conform
Bury me wherever you need to
My being will burn either way
My scars will guide
Towards a brighter day
For anyone who agrees
I dedicated my release
Freedom is all I’ll ever be
A life of how I am free
All I’ll ever have
Want and need nothing else from me

“My man”

~ Gita ~ Leave a comment

Somebody called you “my man” today… doesn’t seem like much special, but I caught myself in the act. I can’t believe, that after over 3 years of being in an exclusive, passionate, insane, magical and committed relationship, with healthy -and unhealthy- doses of attachment, obsession and infatuation, when someone refers to you, today, as “my man”… I still get the uncontrollable urgent tendency to say: “I don’t have a man”…

How is this even possible? When all I clearly, obviously want is to be yours & you mine. But see, that’s the thing… No I don’t know what the thing is, but there’s a thing.

I think I’ve never come to terms, or reconciliation, or agreement even, with myself that this, that you… that this with you is real.
Somehow it always stayed lingering, simmering, marinade-ing on ‘fairy tale’ level. Maybe this clarifies a little of my mechanisms surrounding you and your behavior and disappointments related to you.

I can just so easily write you out the story. At least I think I can, but evidently I really can’t. If it’s surreal, like a dream, then I am lucid enough to control what happens. Except with you, I’m never in control. Not over you, which I shouldn’t even have to want (if you would only behave), not over any situation with or regarding you either, because you’re equally if not slightly more stubborn and prideful than me.
A constant power struggle, and the mindful positivists tell the people of worries (like I am) that if controlling the situation is impossible… it’s OKAY, because at the very least you can control yourself and how you deal or react. NOPE!! not me, not this one, I can’t. Not with you, ohh irony, “my man”.
Maybe that’s exactly what really does make you “my man” and this struggle won’t end until I realize and more importantly, embrace you as you are,
MY MAN.

but what if you
put me to shame?
what if you make
me look like a
fool? what if you
betray & play &
I’ll never know
… control …
… anxiety …
who ever has any reason to trust anyone?

Ours

~ Gita ~ Leave a comment


I don’t think I’ll ever stop writing about long distance relationships, until I’m finally released from one. Love crosses borders like the wind, with ease and we allow it to sway us away, as we please. Many might not last but when they do, it’s as romantic and exhilarating as it is terrorizing, terrifying and destructive. Because all that you feel won’t ever fade away as long as you know it’s true. Maintaining equal amounts of love, trust, respect and communication is essential and impossible in the same extent.

We grew closer than I’ve ever been to any other soul, than I’ve ever allowed another near my core of cores. I’ve caught myself underestimating the true essence of this power we both share. So pure a love that it makes the universe stop and stare. In the eventual awareness of this, I know you are made of the same fire as I. We burst from the same flame and traveled around the globe through epic places and times until our hearts met again in the most twisted circumstances. Only to realize, this was all for us, ours, all along.