My first media to express myself were paintings and drawings, but recently I found out that I not just enjoy working with colors but also with words.

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  • queenofhearts1491 106w

    A Poet's Heart

    A poet's heart
    Bleeding on paper
    Feelings flowing
    Like ink from her soul.

    A symphony
    Filled with hopes and dreams
    A well-composed rhyme
    Speaking of love and desire.

    Letting herself
    Be vulnerable and weak
    By exposing her soul
    For the world to see.

    A poet's heart
    Is the bravest one of all
    Not trying to hide its sorrows
    Always embracing the truth.


  • queenofhearts1491 106w

    Are you happy now?

    You have ...
    ... A big house
    ... A fast car
    ... A luxurious wardrobe
    Are you happy now?

    I have ...
    ... A small flat
    ... A bus ticket
    ... One favourite dress
    Am I happy now?

    You have ...
    ... A pretty wife
    ... Spoiled kids
    ... Superficial friends
    Are you happy now?

    I have ...
    ... A caring girlfriend
    ... A reliabale family
    ... Trustworthy friends
    Am I happy now?

    You have ...
    ... A busy life
    ... A good job
    ... A huge amount of money
    Are you happy now?

    I have ...
    ... A peaceful life
    ... A job that I love
    ... A huge amount of joy
    Am I happy now?

    You are feeling ...
    ... Poor, because money doesn't satisfy you
    ... Lonely, because no one loves you for who you really are
    ... Burned out, because you have no time for yourself
    Are you happy now?

    I am feeling ...
    ... Rich, because there are so many blessings in my life
    ... Loved, because I am accepted the way I am
    ... Recharged, because I can take time and peace for myself.
    I am happy now.


  • queenofhearts1491 106w

    The Mask

    I have lost my face
    In the eyes of society,
    Not living up to
    The person I am supposed to be.
    I am a loser,
    I am useless,
    Why is my life so broken?
    How can I fix this giant mess?

    My mask is shattered
    For the eyes of society,
    Not living up to
    The expectations put on me.
    I am a failure,
    I am strange,
    Who is this person in the mirror?
    How can I fit into their range?

    I am showing my true self
    To the eyes of society,
    Only living up to
    The dreams I can feel in me.
    I am a winner,
    I am me,
    No longer questioning myself,
    Now I finally feel free.


  • queenofhearts1491 109w

    The Path to Tomorrow

    The door to tomorrow,
    Opens in the shadows of today,
    So brush aside the path of sorrow,
    And make your way.

    Let yesterday be your teacher,
    With so many lessons learned,
    But don't look back in anger,
    There's no need for regret,
    Because all the memories you carry,
    Helped to bring you where you get.

    The door to tomorrow,
    Opens in the shadows of today,
    So brush aside the path of sorrow,
    And make your way.

    Let today be your anchor,
    With moments full of bliss,
    But don't miss out to see them,
    There's no need to be in a haste,
    Because on all the seas you've sailed so far,
    Have been thousands of storms that you faced.

    The door to tomorrow,
    Opens in the shadows of today,
    So brush aside the path of sorrow,
    And make your way.

    Let tomorrow be your journey,
    With a destination untold,
    But don't look forward in panic,
    There's no need to be afraid,
    Because all that lies ahead of you,
    Is a path unknown that will surely turn out great.

    The door to tomorrow,
    Opens in the shadows of today,
    There's no need to drown your life in sorrow,
    Be sure that you will find your way.


  • queenofhearts1491 110w

    A Mother's Thought

    The time had come to start her journey. I leaned out the window, waving as long as I could while she disappeared into the distance. Releasing my precious daughter to conquer the world. A world dominated by materialism, patriarchy, egoism and survival of the fittest. A world that I wouldn't even wish for my worst enemy to live in. A world that you would now discover all by yourself.

    Of course I couldn't keep you here with me for the rest of your life, that would have been very selfish. I have to admit this thought has crossed my mind more than once, but no, you have to find your own way, I know that.
    Don't get me wrong, I don't consider you to be fragile or weak, no, not at all. I knew the way I raised you made you become an independent and strong woman.
    You have always been my little sunshine, brightening my day with your offbeat idea and your brisk imagination. I could have spent hours just watching you while you got caught up in one of your "projects", as you used to call them. Bitting your lips as you were focused, twisting your wild hair between your fingers if you got nervous, being lost in your own worlds. You are the most extraordinary girl I have ever seen and I am not just saying this because you are my daughter ... or maybe I do. But what can I say, I am proud of my little girl who has become such an amazing young woman.

    You have never cared about what others said or thought about you. You would have always stood up for your view on the world. And oh dear, you have a view, a vision ... Many have called you idealistic or naive, but you just want to make this world a better place. A place full of love, spirituality, empathy and equality. You are sick of all these stereotypes and prejudices, and who could blame you for that? I have never heard anyone standing up for their opinion as passionately as you do. Not even I would dare to do that.

    Maybe this bravery is what concerns me so much. I know you won't back down if someone tries to surpress you. But what if they will take it as a challenge to break you? What if a strong and confident woman is too much for them to swallow? What if they will destroy your confidence?
    It hurts me to think about what might happen to you, to the greatest teasure I have. Of course you have told me not to worry, that you were old enough to look after yourself. But you know, a mother's heart is always concerned.
    Nevertheless, I guess only time can tell what will happen. Just be sure that no matter what, I will always be here for you as a counselor, a listener, a shoulder to cry on, as your mother.

    I hope you will achieve everything that you are striving for and so much more.
    Farewell my precious pearl.
    Farewell on your journey into a world unknown, full of challenges and stumbling blocks, full of chances and opportunities.
    Farewell my dear daughter.
    I love you.


  • queenofhearts1491 110w

    A Demonic Heritage

    I blinked as I regained consciousness. I had hit my head hard, or had someone hit me? Then I realized I was holding a bloody knife in my hand.
    Blood? How?
    What the hell has happened here?
    I was trying to focus but my head was pounding as if a deathsman was splitting it with his axe. A sharp pain that didn't let me think straight.
    I was looking around, trying to figure out where I was. The room looked dusty, ancient, abandoned, full of antiques. A chest with golden flower ornaments ... A huge medieval chair, maybe a throne, but with a broken leg ... Some chandeliers made of thousands of small crystals hung with heavy spiderwebs ... And a canvas, very impressive, but cut wide open in the middle ... Wait this looked familiar ... I knew this place from my childhood days. I used to play hide and seek around this old furniture. This was my grandfather's house and I was lying in the middle of his attic. I came here because my mother had asked me to take care of all these things after my grandpa's mysterious death. My memories came back like small puzzle pieces ...

    Ignazius, my grandfather, had died about six months ago, yet no one could tell what had happened to him. At first the doctors thought he had had a heart attack or a stroke but no trace of this could be found so his death remained a mystery. He had lived in his Victorian mansion all by himself for many years. Since my grandmother had died at the age of fifthy-one, he had isolated himself from our family and the rest of the world. Ignazius was considered to be weird, some would have even said he went completely bonkers, so no one cared about him or took him seriously anyway.
    Years passed by like this, actually almost two decades, without hearing a word from him. Then one day I had received a letter informing me that my grandfather had passed away and that he had named me to be the new owner of his ancient mansion. All this came to me as a big surprise because we weren't even close. The last time I had seen him, I had still been a little child of five or six. So at first I wanted to decline my heritage, it felt weird to accept it after all those years. But then I got curious about it and I told myself, I could take a look at it at least once and then decide what to do about it.

    So one rainy afternoon, I packed up a few things and drove all the way to the old Victorian mansion. It still looked as impressive as in my childhood days. It resembled a museum with its old paperhangings, the ancient furniture and its huge portraits hung upon every wall. Even the air smelled dusty and full of history. This house was like a remnant of long forgotten times, fascinating and mysterious at the same time.
    As I wandered through the numerous rooms, something seemed to pull me up the stairs like an invisible force that I couldn't escape. So I climbed up step by step and reached my grandfather's attic. I could feel this suction getting stronger as if I was attracted to a magnet. Slowly I unlocked the door and it swung open with a loud creak. A ghostly silence welcomed me as I entered the room full of fear and suspense. What would I find in here?
    The air seemed to be filled with a silent humming that kept vibrating in my bones, leaving me bewildered and fascinated at the same time. The room was full of antiques just like the others. At first glance there was nothing special to it. But then I saw it ... Framed by some medieval chairs ... Placed in the middle of the room like a relict of a saint ... A huge blank canvas. The scene looked almost surreal. Why would my grandfather keep something like this up here? Had he started painting after my grandmother had died?
    The white space seemed to pull me closer and I gave in to it. Step by step I kept approaching it, inhaling its mysterious aura, unable to resist. As I gazed at its blankness, a sudden transformation was about to begin. At first I thought it was just a shadow or a change of lighting, but then I realized that one side of the canvas was shifting its color ... Light-grey ... Middle-grey ... Dark-grey ... Black.
    Was I hallucinating? This couldn't be real.
    As I got closer, I could observe that black paint had appeared on the canvas, there was no doubt about it. Maybe I should have turned away, run while I still could, but I was unable to take my eyes off this painting no matter how hard I tried.
    So I kept staring and the transformation continued. A redish glow started to form behind the fabric, very light and subtle at first, but with every second that passed by it grew more intense and bright. A pair of eyes appeared right in front of me, one eye on the black side, the other on the white part. The thought of Snow White's magical mirror crossed my mind and almost made me laugh. This was too weird to be true. But then those evil red eyes focused on me and every cheerful thought was gone. They were looking daggers at me like the devil itself, they didn't blink or move, they would just stare. And every inch of my body that was touched by this gaze was on fire. The smell of burnt flesh started to fill the air but this couldn't be real.
    And then all of a sudden there it was ... A laughter ... None that was filled with joy or happiness ... But one made of malice and pure evil. I couldn't tell where it came from. I didn't know how to stop it. This merciless laughter kept invading my head like a pulsing inferno. I was afraid to go insane, started to scream to make it stop, but the laughter just grew stronger and louder ... "It's the canvas." This thought hit me like a bus. I had to destroy it. I had to end this insanity ... But how?
    I looked around ... A weapon ... I needed a weapon to win this war. My brain was paralyzed by this evil voice inside, it wouldn't let me focus, I couldn't see clearly. I was slowly losing my mind but I couldn't give in ... There it was! An ancient knife, maybe an old pirate's comrade, lying on top of one of my grandfather's chests. It wasn't far from the place where I had been held captive, but still every step I took felt like I was lifting a heavy weight.
    Nevertheless I had to fight my way through.
    And I made it, reached out and got hold of the old knife's handle. It lay perfectly in my hand. I would put an end to this insanity. "Focus on the eyes! Hit the knife right in the middle!", I kept telling myself. It became my mantra to survive. Just a few more steps ... It took me a lot of strength and concentration ... I took aim at the canvas ... And I hit it very hard. The laughter turned into a sharp bloodcurling scream as I ripped open the fabric. Then it fell silent. I felt a triumph, release, it was over ...
    But what was that? Blood started to run down the canvas where I had cut it and the voice seemed to get closer with every breath I took. The blood felt hot under my feet, like lava burning the ground and it kept flowing like a river, aiming to drown me. I couldn't get away. And as the room got flooded with this liquid fire, the canvas opened even wider. Red evil eyes were staring right through me as a dark shadow emerged the painting. The voice in my head was rising once again, louder than ever as the shadow approached me at a pace that was faster than light. I could feel its heat floating through my body as it hit me hard. Then everything around me turned black ...

    I blinked once again as I became more aware of what had happened. Maybe it was just a dream. Maybe the dusty air had made me tired and I tripped over one of the antiques, fell and hit my head. But then again there was this canvas and the knife in my hand ... I wished I could shake off this confusion.
    I was trying to get up, my legs felt so weak, it was a struggle. Just when I thought I had made it, I heard it again ... The evil laughter in my head ... A brain-splitting noise ... A thick blackness started to cover the room like an inescapable haze.
    It was here ... All of a sudden it became crystal clear to me what had happened ... That's how my grandpa died ... I had released a demon ... It would kill me too ... Now ...


  • queenofhearts1491 110w

    Just who do you think you are?

    Just who do you think you are?
    ... Treating me like a doormat.
    ... Drowning me in work and expectations.
    ... Accusing me of being lazy and useless.
    ... Letting your moods out as you please.
    ... Ignoring me whenever you think I have made a mistake.
    ... Talking bad about me behind my back as soon as I am out of sight.

    Just who do you think I am?
    ... Acting nice and respectful no matter what.
    ... Putting your happiness before mine.
    ... Swallowing your behaviour without a bad word.
    ... Taking care of your life while my own goes down.
    ... Tolerating your egoism with a smile.
    ... Being happy without hearing a nice word or a "Thank you!".

    Just who do I think you are?
    A hypocrite because you pretend to be so nice and caring ...
    An egoist because you always put yourself first no matter what ...
    A block of ice because you never show your true feelings ...
    A liar because you are not able to admit your own mistakes ...
    A tyrant because you won't listen to others' opinions ...
    A pessimist to the core because you will always just look at the dark side of life ...

    Just who do I think I am?
    A sunshine because I have learned to dance in the rain ...
    A smart mind because I have made mistak es ...
    A wisecracker because I know what sadness feels like ...
    An artist because I have seen how grey life can be ...
    A survivor because I have faced so many battles ...
    A proud and strong woman because I have made it through rough times ...

    I know I am not perfect,
    And I don't strive to be,
    But before you point your finger,
    Make sure your hands are clean!


  • queenofhearts1491 112w

    The Monster on my Way

    There's a monster on my way,
    I don't even know its name.
    Gazing at me
    With ominous merciless eyes.
    A creature so huge and intimidating,
    I don't dare to pass,
    I don't dare to stay.
    It won't let me reach the bright side,
    Leading me the other way.

    There's a monster on my way,
    Its name is spelled DEPRESSION.
    Gazing at me
    With sad hopeless eyes.
    A creature so dejected and irritable,
    I don't dare to pass,
    I don't dare to stay.
    It won't let me reach the bright side,
    Leading me the other way.

    There's a monster on my way,
    Its name is spelled ANXIETY.
    Gazing at me
    With fearful worried eyes.
    A creature so fragile and afraid,
    I don't dare to pass,
    I don't dare to stay.
    It won't let me reach the bright side,
    Leading me the other way.

    There's a monster on my way,
    Its name is spelled LONELINESS.
    Gazing at me
    With empty desolate eyes.
    A creature so powerless and insecure,
    I don't dare to pass,
    I don't dare to stay.
    It won't let me reach the bright side,
    Leading me the other way.

    There's a monster on my way,
    But now I know its name.
    Gazing at it,
    With tender understanding eyes.
    A creature so depressed, anxious and lonely,
    I don't want to pass,
    I don't want to stay.
    So I put it on a cart and take it,
    I don't mind the extra weight,
    Together we can reach the bright side,
    Together we can find a way.


  • queenofhearts1491 112w

    Heart made of Sunlight

    If your tender smile is like a ray of sunlight,
    So love blossoms in our world ...
    If you bring your heart's wishes to the light,
    So they can grow strong ...
    If you take loving care of your thoughts,
    So they can blossom beautifully ...
    Then your heart is made of sunlight.

    If you remember,
    That your thoughts are magical ...
    If you believe,
    That out of every low, wonders can arise ...
    If you keep the faith,
    That no matter how often the sun sets, it will always rise again ...
    Then your heart is made of sunlight.

    If you cherish the small moments of bliss,
    To collect rays of sunlight for rainy days ...
    If you let your heart guide you,
    To touch the sunny side of life ...
    If the sun's smile stays with you,
    To be visible behind every dark cloud ...
    Then your heart is made of sunlight.

    If you hold the sun in your heart,
    So strength and confidence will arise ...
    If your heart is filled with light and love,
    So you can pass it on to others ...
    If you carry the sun in your heart,
    So it won't just shine for yourself ...
    Then your heart is made of sunlight.

    If every sunny thought,
    Becomes a grain of shining wonders in our world ...
    If every light we carry in our hearts,
    Becomes a lantern to make our world brighter ...
    If every caring thought,
    Becomes a little fragment of bliss and peace in our world ...
    Then our hearts are made of sunlight.


  • queenofhearts1491 114w

    Muted Horror

    "White is Black and Black is White"

    Blank ... empty ... numb ... I am waking up from an ear-splitting silence, returning from no man's land. I am surrounded by an unbearable white noise that seems to kill off everything that approaches me. I try to focus. My body is aching, every muscle is in burning pain. Still I have to be brave, I have to move, escape my silent prison ... but I can't. Something is holding me back like an invincible force.
    How is this possible?
    I try to open my eyes, every millimeter is a battle, a war against agony and gravity but I have to face it. Suddenly a heavy pain hits me as I am blinded by a bright glistening white light. I am struggeling to stay strong, to hold on ... but I can't and my eyes fall back into darkness.
    I can't stay here like this, I have to brace myself for this barbarous sharp pain and open my eyes again. It is the only way. Silent screams escape my lips as my eyes are torn apart by the light. Tears start running down my cheeks but I have to bear it, I have to stay strong. So I lie and wait until my eyes come back to life ...
    Glancing at the ceiling ... white. Trying to move my head a little bit but my brain is muted by pain again. Staring at the walls ... white.
    Am I in heaven?
    Am I dead?
    I doubt they would pin me down to my bed over there. My arms and legs are tied up with some strong leather straps bound by heavy iron buckles, making my hands and my feet feel numb. I can't move a finger or a toe.
    What happened to me?
    Where am I?
    And how did I get here?
    So many questions are running through my head but my brain still feels like a vacuum. Think ... Focus ... What are the last things I can remember?

    I see myself walking down a lonely avenue. There is no one around, no house, no car, not even a bird is singing. The road is dusty and every step I take, sparks a little cloud of filth over the ground. The air feels hot and heavy, it is hard to breathe. I keep going, not remembering what was my destination anyway. And then there it is ... A small house.
    At first I think it to be an illusion, that the heat has made my brain weak, but the closer I step, the more real it becomes. It looks very shabby, some windows are broken, many roof tiles have fallen off, the walls are covered in dirt. This house must have been abandoned for many years already.
    As I am stepping closer no sound can be heard. I guess I am all by myself out here. Walking around the house, peeking through the shattered windows ... Nothing. I am about to leave when I am struck by surprise and horror at the same time. There it is ... A totally surreal yet fascinating scene.
    A pair of lovers, a woman and a man I guess, standing in one of the rooms. He is dressed in a black suit with a white shirt and a black tie, looking formal, stern, intimidating. She is wearing a red dress with some pieces of white lace, leaving her arms bare and vulnerable, looking pretty, delicate, fragile. The man is holding her in a tight embrace while they are united in an innocent kiss. He seems to be in a dominant position as the woman is leaning her head upwards to meet his lips. Together they look like the metaphor of a merge of love and death, completely lost in each other.
    Still this bizarre scene leaves me struck by horror and disgust. Their faces are covered with a white scarf, erasing their individuality, stealing their humanity, turning romance into perversion. Like two contrary forces being confronted, the closeness through love and the impossibility to communicate. Everything is muted, there is no intimacy, just a blank space.
    Maybe the woman has been kidnapped and is forced to be here.
    Maybe this is part of some cult's sick ritual.
    What is happening here?
    Should I save her?
    I continue to observe the scene, unable to look away. No movement is visible, no breathing, no heartbeat.
    Am I going mad?
    Is this even real?
    Maybe it's a statue, a piece of art that someone has forgotten over here a long time ago.
    Wait ... Did the man just shake a little?
    He is slowly moving his head towards the window. I am terrified, there is nothing but white emptiness. No eyes, no nose, no lips, no ears, all senses muted, no face can be seen. I try to scream but my voice gets stuck in my throat, unable to be released. Panic is rising ... My heart is racing ... I am breathing heavily ... I can't move ... I am doomed.
    The world around me starts spinning in circles and everything turns black. Then I must have passed out because the next thing I remember, is waking up in this room.
    Black turned into White

    I am lost in my memories, still trying to put the pieces together, when I hear the noise of cracking locks being opened and footsteps getting closer. I am trying to move my head but there is no one to be seen and everything around me is falling silent again. Maybe I was hallucinating.
    Time keeps passing by without a trace of hope and I am sure that my mind is playing tricks on me ...
    Until a familiar whitened face appears in front of me, Once again I am struck by horror, fear and panic are washing over me in huge waves. I try to move but there is no way to escape. The face shows a silent and merciless laughter. His invisible mouth wide open, turning into an endless white void.
    He is moving closer to my face and my screams are muted by my own voice. I can't get away. He is pulling out another white scarf, getting closer ... Closer ... Closer ... Touching my face ... It is too late ...