The Extreme

When I again and again begged you to be
Faire and share our hearts, you handed me
A gun in my right hand and held another in yours.
Sitting on the empty floor, after you gently stroked my
Black hair and touched my cheek, we stared at our gray eyes
And slowly pointed your gun at my heart, my gun at yours.

When the sound of the guns echoed throughout the room
Of the lonely lovers,
In your transparent tears from your eyes,
In your red blood dying your shirt and my face, I thought
I finally saw what I was aching to see.

© 2015 Kiara Belle * To subscribe on your Kindle, please click HERE!!!

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The Magical World

Approximately one more year remains in Germany. Most of the time, I try my very best not to think of the inevitable fact. I just let time pass by, focusing on the daily routines that do not seem to possess that much significance. But some cups of coffee and some train rides and some ordinary conversations later, the feeling of void that resembles heartbreak always ends up coming back. It is like the relationship that you are in that you know it is ending. Please don’t let me leave you.

Life can be funny indeed. I wonder how many of you are actually living the lives you dreamed of when you were ten years old. When I was ten, I was daydreaming that once I stepped out of Japan, the magical world filled with nothing but happiness awaited.

And the reality was dead wrong. To be honest, things could have been much easier if I stayed in Japan although it does not necessarily mean that could make me happier. I have lived in the United States, France and Portugal before my fate sent me to Germany. Five years ago, my life here started with zero German knowledge and zero friend. And five years later, the world became somewhat magical filled with a plenty of happiness. I wonder how the ten year-old me sees me now.

Germany already became my home and a big part of me, but again, I will have to let my fate decide where I am going next. I am not too hopeful because I am not ten anymore, but I have come to learn that it is up to me to make the world magical no matter where that is.

Unrequited Love

After absorbing the air,
She blows up
Into the red balloon.

The more she blows,
The more it grows,
Larger and rounder.
The more of her passion is
Swallowed
By the red balloon.

Making its skin worn,
The red balloon
Becomes more transparent,
Too visible, too naked.

Her red face, so breathless,
Can’t tell, Can’t speak.
No word can be voiced.

With full of her passion,
The red balloon is
About to explode.

Soon, it will.
Even if he never knows
The existence of the red balloon.

Soon, it will
And will disappear,
With the blast,
Hurting her.

© 2015 Kiara Belle * To subscribe on your Kindle, please click HERE!!!