Timo Schmitz

No connection

No connection, battery empty,
Be my charger, bae!
Yet still lonely, you don’t know it,
Because we aren’t walking on the same way.

Let me inside your world,
Let me gain your trust,
Face what you feel for me,
Is it eternity or just bodily lust?

Climbing to the peak

Colors which are in the mirror unseen,
Sunsets so orange, yellow, blue green,
Through breathlessness where I hike,
In the moon nights’ sweet delight.

Where the fog is getting thicker,
Walking further through the night,
In the dawn the sun is breaking,
Galaxy-like shining light.

Myriads of breathless miles,
Melting in a thirsty might,
Reaching the mountaintop
With smiles.

I don’t want to lose you

Every morning when I wake up,
I know that I have such a luck,
– That you are with me.

But life is dangerous and one hush,
An unattentive moment in a rush,
And nothing would be as it was.

I am so afraid of losing you,
Because you filled me with life.

~~~

Timo Schmitz is a language fanatic, philosopher, journalist, poet, and book author from Germany. He authored poetry books in German, English, and French. His poetry was also featured among others in Luna’s Poetry Bar, I Write Her, The Short of It, and the anthology Social Justice Inks. Schmitz is currently doing his Ph.D. thesis in philosophy. Timo was first featured in 2022, and had his work appear in The Short of It – Volume 2, Reflections & Revelations.

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Hanging Back

will non-existent
surrounded by the living
growth at a standstill

“Just like the dead trees in a forest of luscious and vibrant green ones,
our society has people that aren’t growing.” Susi Bocks

Thrills

It sure was a challenge to build the tent at night. The thick trees of these mountains made it difficult, but we had to try or succumb to the elements. 

I tried to erase the doubts about my camping abilities and focused on the task and hand, forcing myself to breathe deeper until my lungs felt full. The oxygen was a tad thin up here.

Bent over, with a stake in my hands, I heard a deep growl behind me. My planted stance remained firm, but my skin instantly got moist, and I felt myself trembling with regrets

Oh, shit.

Shielding

Redux

The injurious are on the prowl.

Instinctively my guard goes up.

Hurling words to pierce the psyche.

Expectedly waiting for more of a beat-down.

Another and another and another.

The taunts ricocheting inside me like a ping-pong ball. 

Humiliation the game, the victor, no one.

I feel desperate and alone. I want to cry.

Fear, sadness, and agony achieved.

I don’t know how much longer I can take this!

Bored, looking for the next target to feel superior to.

I’m exhausted from this continued abuse.

I need to push myself over the edge to freedom.

Originally published 7/16/2018 on I Write Her.

Unoriginal

Redux

Originally posted on I Write Her 7/8/2018. Published here with revisions.

pixabay.com

my thoughts are unique
or are they
am i an original
or just a borrower from the inspirers of my past
i fear the quality words
will all have been spoken
i wonder when it’ll all have been said
will my voice be muted before i die
before i leave my mark…

A Visit From Charlotte

i must be getting more compassionate
when a visit from an itsy bitsy spider
doesn’t send me in a tailspin
and elicit a scream

it’s either that or i’m loosening up
this creepy-crawly fear of mine
well hello there, girl
move along in peace

Peace, Please

Brandi Alexandra – Unsplash

Inspired by Reena’s Exploration Challenge #219 – War is at the doorstep.
What do you expect me to do? & Eugenia’s Weekly Prompt – Lovers

“We’re lovers, not fighters!”

War is at the doorstep. What do you expect me to do?

“Don’t let them in.”

Skipping A Beat

Taina Bernard – Pexels

Inspired by Reena’s Exploration Challenge #183 & Eugi’s Weekly Prompt – Flutter

my gaze
off in the distance

my mind
in the land of wishes

my heart
beating with a flutter

my fear
never seeing you again

Burnt

like a candle melting
hot little piecemeal pontifications
emerge from between the edge of lips

they’ll singe and sting for a bit
one utterance forward and two psychosis’ back
to a place where anxiety takes the reigns again

add in a bit of depression
where the blackness overrides the chaos
sleep becoming a refuge

like a candle doused
this flame inside extinguished
a life rising up as dead-smelling smoke

Not Repulsed

subjecting ourselves
to scream-producing eerie things
vile and sick things
or revolting and heave-inducing things

wanting fear to take over
allowing ourselves to be unnerved
a freakish desire for jolts to our nervous system

…what is wrong with us or rather, you?