UNDER YOUR SKY

No explanations needed.

But maybe it’s the way you laugh,

throwing your head back,

like nothing’s holding you.

 

Something about that pulls me into long-lost summers,

into the first balloon I ever chased,

until the string slipped from my grasp. Leaving me helpless.

 

You feel like a home,

where the light always feels warm,

not in the way I expected.

Not empty walls and wooden floors,

more like a feeling that fills the deep empty spaces

in between my words,

like a river running into the ocean

without asking permission.

No explanations needed...

 

But I love how you get lost in your thoughts,

and somehow make me feel like

I’m part of them too.

  

You're pulling me back down when I start to drift,

keeping me from floating away into my head.

 

You're like the low and high notes of my favourite

song,

playing over and over in my head,

a vinyl on repeat.

 

From deep, sad blues to bright reds and yellows,

like a memory that hits me,

but still, that dusk sky never seemed to impress you

as it did me.

 

No explanation needed, and I don’t know if I can

explain it all.

But I love how you don’t try to be everything -

You just are,

and somehow,

that’s made me feel more at home than I ever

thought possible.

 

-dm

NOT A LOVE POEM

This isn’t a love poem,

Well, not in the way you probably expect it to be.

 

This isn’t a love poem,

not because of what it lacks,

but because maybe I carry too much inside me that

won’t fit on a page.

 

Maybe it’s the curse of those who overthink, those

whose dreams are too big for this world.

Hopes brighter than the truth,

and so there’s always a quiet hesitation,

a warning that lingers when the coin spins.

And when everything’s in the air,

it’s kinda hard to find where to land.

 

This isn’t a love poem...

or maybe it’s the kind of love that can’t be written.

 

And lately, I write with ink that bleeds my

mistakes, 

smearing on the page before reaching the point.

And how am I supposed to explain anything

when every sentence slips through my fingers anyway?

I think I can't write you a love poem.

And even if I tried, I’d probably break apart

because how do you fit an entire world inside a

single heart?

-dm

UNCHANGED

I never thought I’d find a hand

I wouldn’t want to let go of.

And tonight, I don’t wanna be alone,

but I am -

forced to be, because I’ve never known it any other way.

 

The night calls, but I live for the day,

always chasing what’s missing,

yet still, I feel empty.

 

And hearts will break,

the earth will shake,

everything will change, but

nothing will be different.

The pain will remain,

 

And I won’t be there.

Because I know, there’s nothing

that keeps me.

 

Not forever.

-dm

KNOTS

I want to believe that souls just crash into each other,

lost, desperate, with no reason at all,

pure, raw, unexplainable force.

It hits hard, almost hurts.

 

It doesn’t make sense,

doesn’t require a plan or purpose,

just two pairs of eyes that meet,

and without realizing,

the souls twist themselves together,

and that knot stays,

even when the eyes look away.

 

There was no choice but to fall.

The decision wasn’t mine to make,

it wasn’t about logic.

And this isn’t a promise, not a contract.

Because maybe someday these eyes will look away,

but the knot will still be there,

silent, unbroken,

holding us in ways words never could.

 

But maybe I’m wrong to think it’s all so clear.

 

Maybe it’s just the unconscious wish that forms the knot.

But today is not the time to question,

today, I don't want to face the reality.

-dm

FEBRUARY

Stay a little longer,

wrap me around your finger like a careless thought,

break my heart, love, before it even knows how to beat for you.

 

Rock me in this fever dream,

just to be tangled in your arms, even there,

 

Take the fear, take all of it,

stay a little longer, fall with me - no net, no plan.

Because maybe, just maybe, the crash will never come.

 

Maybe we’ll just keep falling,

until we forget what it’s like to hit the ground.

-dm

WATERLOO

I meet you here again, in another city, another reality.
It’s louder, colder, more chaotic. And I - I'm five minutes early. Nervous. My hands shake, my heart races, unsure of what I want, what you want.

And you - will you be here?

But as soon as I step inside, our eyes meet.

The ticking of the clock fades away.
My heart skips a beat, then slows, living in the memory for just a second longer.
The same closeness, the same warmth.

But we both know it’s just an illusion.

Because in the end you stay at the platform. I step into the train.

Oh Waterloo.

Our eyes lock one last time, and we can’t let go.
The glass between us, pulling us apart.

And then I hear it: the signal. The doors start to close.
I’m caught between two worlds, knowing I have to decide.
But I can’t.

And in that moment, I see the ring I gave you ages ago, a final memory. You hold it between your fingers, the light reflecting off the metal.

Adrenaline hits, and suddenly, I’m running.
Your face lights up, you step forward.
The moment stretches...

but the doors close too fast.
You stay outside.

I stay inside.

The train pulls away.
The distance between us grows.
And there I realize: it’s over.

Waterloo.
You stay there - and I keep moving.
What we could’ve been, what we never were.

Waterloo wasn’t our beginning.
Waterloo was our end.

-dm

QUIET BEGINNINGS

I would like to promise you an unwritten beginning,

light and gentle.   

Would love to give you more, dedicate a few poems to you maybe.

Proudly call you mine and tell my friends about you.

Tell them how your eyes shine and how warm your hands are,

and how much I need them in this deep, icy winter.

How you’re like a fireplace, warming and soothing me.

How soft your voice is and how my cheeks flush,

when I catch your eyes on me.

But what if I have to hold you as a summary,

and not as the intro to this chapter of my life?

What if, despite your fire, I get cold feet?

What if I fail to hold on again?

-dm

APRICOT TREE

My favorite thought begins under an apricot tree, somewhere in the heat. The kind that sticks to your skin, makes the air heavy. But then there’s the wind, brushing through the leaves and your voice, cutting through the silence.

You spoke about the desert, about the Bedouins who knew how to move with the land, not against it. Life and death weren’t enemies to them, just two sides of the same coin. You told me stories passed down like a secret, myths that made the sand feel alive.

Under that tree, you told me that the world gives us enough if we’re willing to take only what we need. Two apricots, not three. Your hands lifted me up, higher than I could reach on my own.

When you spoke of death, I didn’t get it. It felt like a word too big for me. But you made it sound small, like a part of everything else, like the wind or the heat.

Now you’re gone, but sometimes I go back to that tree. I sit there, let the sun burn on my skin, let the wind move through me. I pick just one apricot and wait. Maybe for answers or just for the sound of your voice again.

And sometimes apricots fall, sinking back into the earth, like a quiet reminder of the cycle you once spoke of under our favourite apricot tree.

-dm

IN THIS LIFE

In this life, we’re not meant to be.
Our paths cross like fleeting shadows,
But never stay.
We’re whispers in the wind,
Echoes of something deeper,
Something beyond the now.

In this life, we’re just memories of each other,
Fragments of moments,
Glimpses of what could have been.
A touch, a glance,
Fading into the backdrop of time.

We are the past,
And yet, we are the promise of the future.
A reminder of what was,
And a quiet longing for what’s still to come.

In this life, we are apart,
But in another,
In another, we will find our way.
We will be whole,
We will be home.

-dm

PLASTIC REALITIES

Everything is plastic, shiny and smooth,
but it cracks under pressure, dissolves by the moon.
Faces of rubber, sculpted like dolls,
emotions suffocated beneath polished walls.

Bank accounts full, yet the soul runs dry,
relationships like contracts—transactions, not ties.
Bodies perfected, engineered to impress,
but inside they're shattered, light turned to stress.

Filters on filters, layers of gloss,
everything staged, a dance of the lost.
No depth, no ground, just floating deceit,
in a world where we lie to the truth we meet.

We search for the real but come up with none,
surrounded by shadows, blinded by the sun.
Artificial prevails, the natural dies,
a world that consumes itself in its lies.

-dm

WONDERING SOULS

Like searching for something you can’t name, never quite knowing what you’re looking for.

Through enough to wonder if there’s room left for anything else. Yet there's a quiet longing for something that makes sense, even if just for a moment.

The fear is always there. What happens after they see all the cracks?

A fragile vase, wrong move, it all goes to pieces. But what is a vase without flowers? What's a heart that's never truly given?

 

-dm

ILLUSIONS OF TIME

We destroy ourselves, everything around us.
We only believe out of fear,
Act out of despair, always chasing more,
Ending frustrated because what we long for
Remains forever out of reach.

Our aura - poisonous,
Contaminating everything it touches.
Our lies - so bittersweet,
A comfort that only hurts us.
The children, the family, we dream of,
Are nothing more than flickering shadows in the dusk.

Fear and greed rule us,
Sex and death in the headlines.
But we carry on,
Trapped in the illusion that we still have time,
That the world still holds all the doors open.

 

-dm

SILENT SHIFTS

With every year, everything seems a little more hazy.
Dreams fade, visions blur,
and the past is more a feeling than an accurate recollection.
The future? It never fully arrives,
but that isn't all bad necessarily.
Control slips through my fingers,
but maybe it was never mine to have in the first place.
Not a single tear flows, yet it doesn't feel cold.
I let go, because I realize that some things just need to flow.
It happens quietly, like the moment
when day softly turns into night.
Still, gentle, a bit sad, maybe,
but more like a slow breath that eventually releases.

 

-dm

FRAGMENTS

I’m like a mosaic, pieced together from all the moments that have shaped me and people I’ve crossed paths with.

Each fragment telling its own story - some shine brightly with joy,  others carry the shadows of harder times.

With every passing year, my colors and patterns shift.

New pieces are added, old ones fade, and somehow it all comes together, even if it’s never quite complete.

I’m not perfect, nor smooth. There are cracks here and there, marks of mistakes.

But in those very cracks, the light shines through the most.

I'm imperfect, yet alive.

 

-dm

TRACES

I leave traces,

like ink on damp paper,

sometimes a ring, sometimes a note,

scattered across streets that no one walks anymore.

 

In places no one remembers,

in hearts that still carry the weight of years.

A small taste, a bite of something sour,

that sinks deep,

and before you know it, I'm gone.

Just a shadow, a memory fading.

 

So hold me close.

Give me a reason to stay,

not just as the echo of my voice,

or the scent of my perfume in the air.

 

Don’t let me be just a flicker in your past,

a rustle of my dress in the wind.

Give me a reason to stay,

so I’m not just a memory.

 

-dm

THOSE EYES

I don’t know what it is, but everything feels lighter.

Your eyes catch mine, and I feel my heart stumble - a curious dance of nerves and calm, like holding a secret that slips through my fingers.

I blush when you look at me that way, steady and real, you actually see me.

And usually, I’d overthink it, break it down until there’s nothing left. But with you, I just want to stay in this feeling.

And believe me when I say, listening to you isn’t about finding my next words; I'm trying to understand you.

It feels like the first page of a story I somehow already know will be my favorite.

 

-dm

ANOTHER YOU

Who would you be if no one knew your name?

Would you still love the same colors?
Would you go to work each morning in gray clothes
that cost you more than you’d care to admit?
Would you laugh at the same jokes?
Take the same route? Crave the same meals?

Or would you be free - free of every expectation?

Would you pause to marvel at the stars?
Breathe deeply each morning and listen to the quiet?
Would you wear the red dress with flowers,
yellow tights beneath, bright and bold?
Would you sit with the homeless man,
listening instead of dropping a coin?

Would you lie in a field, close your eyes,
and simply live - hear how the world breathes?

 

Who would you truly be,
if you didn’t have to be you?

 

-dm

CITY OF LIGHTS

A city that shines, but no one sees. Blank faces, eyes cast down.

Stars blazing above, yet no one looks up.
A city of wonders, yet no one cares to wander.

Endless possibilities, yet no one reaches out.
Emotions waiting to be felt, yet no one dares to feel.

A life filled with fascination, yet all anyone wants is to endure.

A city that shines, yet everyone is blinded.

 

-dm

RESTLESS

I am tired.

Tired of endless possibilities that lead nowhere,
of painful moments, of never ending life lessons that haunt me like ghosts.

I am weary of the shallow gloss of our times,
the lies we tell ourselves and each other,
the weight of expectations that have led us nowhere.

I am tired of the wreckage, the madness, the bruising of souls around me.
Of promises made and broken, of people drifting in and out,
never willing to stay.

I am tired of explaining myself.

Time rushes on, relentless, without a single breath to spare,
everything racing by so fast I can’t pause, can’t feel,
can’t think, can’t even understand.

I am tired.
Deeply tired.

 

-dm

LWB

I see you again after what feels like an eternity.

We embrace, slow and careful, distant yet still warm.

Your eyes, a little sadder now, search mine as if asking something unspoken.

And then you ask if I still talk in my sleep, your smile almost the same as I remember. I nod and wait, hoping you’ll order that same dish you always did. When you do, we both laugh, soft and brief.

You glance down at my hands, searching for a ring.

I look at yours—bare.

But we both know it’s still too late, don’t we?

And maybe this is our final goodbye. Maybe it’s our last hug, filled with everything we never had the courage to express.

And how it hurts.

 

-dm

HOME

And if you ask me where my home is, I find it hard to answer.

Home has never been a place for me. It has always been the people.

So I say:

Home is the laughter of my closest friends, the warmth of the hot tea they bring when I need comfort.

It’s the embrace of a stranger I meet on my travels, which feels like the warmest welcome.

Home is the food my mother cooks, the joy of my sisters’ achievements, and the pride I feel for them.

It’s the cake my new roommate bakes, someone who already feels like family.

Home is the peace I find in airports, the excitement of being far away, full of hope for what’s to come.

Because home was never a place for me; it has always been the people.

 

-dm

NOW AND THEN

And I will see you torn between the two of us again.

Between now and then.

Between there and here.

Then, when our hearts have calmed and found the rhythm again.

We will fall out of step once more when we meet again.

Our hands will find each other again,

Our gazes unable to detach from one another.

I will find you between the lines, in moments that don't even remember you.

In the conflict between life now and then again.

But be sure, my love, we'll meet again.

 

-dm

A  LOVERS HEART

Oh, a lover's heart...

How to describe its tumultuous dance,

Consuming, yet illuminating in its trance.

Like a child in summer rain, carefree,

Yet the warmth turns to icy tears, you see.

Oh, a lover's heart,

Destined to love, yet bound to bleed,

In the darkest depths, love's light indeed.

A hymn for those who feel the same,

For lovers' joy, for love's sweet pain.

Oh, a lover's heart,

When will it learn,

Perhaps never, for love's fire still burns.

Oh, my lover heart, when will you learn?

 

-dm

MOMENTS

We are just a moment away from falling in love.

Just a street corner maybe or just a personal story that we tell someone in a weak moment, maybe someone we already might know.

Just a second before maybe two strangers' eyes meet.

Before two similar souls find each other.

Just 5 minutes before the one.

Maybe it's the last week we spend alone, thinking we'll never find it ever again.

Maybe another year, just for ourselves, fortunate to enjoy it on our own, heal old wounds, process sad events, and become the better version of ourselves.

I think the downside of love is that we never know when and if we’ll find it.

But I truly believe that the beauty of love is that we never know when we’ll encounter it.

 

-dm