Dichtende Designerin

Hidden away from the world,

She spilled her heart,

Into the only thing that seemed to care,

A lifeless piece of parchment,

Her escape, her refuge, her solace.

In her secret hiding place,

She spilled ink on paper,

The only thing that listened to her,

A white sheet, a book, a blog,

Her home, her safe heaven, her comfort.

Perhaps she found a peace in the paper,

That she couldn’t find in people,

Her thoughtful eyes gazed into nothingness,

As her mind spun wonders with words she wrote,

It was the only place she had ever felt home.

Perhaps she was just searching for a friend,

A friend who would understand her without judging.

As she stared holes in the wall, she saw words appearing on the white.

Whenever she felt homesick for a fictional place, she found home in writing.

She needed someone, anyone, a friend, to just bear this life with her,

With whom she could share her worries, anxieties too,

Yet she couldn’t find one, so she found solace in only thing she could,

Writing her heart and mind, pouring her soul onto paper, as only she could.

She never showed her poems to anyone

Until one day the cute boy from her neighbor hood found her notebook on the street.

He read through it, even though he knew he shouldn’t invade her privacy.

Her most intimate thoughts, her longing, her sadness

All scribbled in black ink over hundreds of pages.

He knew he shouldn’t have but he couldn’t stop himself,

From reading the words of the quietest girl in the neighborhood,

With eyes so deep he had felt himself getting lost in them countless times,

What he read moved him so much he fell in love with the girl he had never even talked to properly,

Gave her notebook back to her with an apology note, scribbled with “You’re beautiful” in the end.

Written in collaboration with DG

His verses