I feel

trapped

in my own body

I feel

nothing, yet everything

I feel

my stomach tangled in knots

I feel

my lungs scream for more oxygen

but breathing faster never helps

I feel

my heart aching to be felt, to be loved

I feel

my brain wanting to be understood

At a first glance, my dad is not someone you would call a free spirit. He lives for his job, values law and order and always pays his taxes on time. That sounds very conformist, which, I’m sure, he is. At least to a certain extent. But deeper down, I know there’s another side of him.

I remember one phrase that he loved to say:

‚Peace, Love and Happiness, that‘s all you need in live‘

I use this sentence as a mantra and it has always accompanied me. It also reminds me, that there‘s a hippy hidden in everyone, not just my dad.

As the last sunrays enhanced the crimson highlights in his otherwise golden hair, he smiled. It was a genuine smile. One that is contageous. He put his arm loosely around my shoulder, a gesture that made me feel at ease. I was finally happy.

The sunlight somehow made his ashbrown hair look aggressively red. He smiled, but it was a scornful, ironic smile. When he put his hand on her back, it looked imperious. Was she happy?

he broke me.

not just my heart

he broke my trust

he broke my pride

he broke my confidence

all that I slowly, but steadily built up for years

just for him to crush it all in one single night

maybe being broken is not the end

maybe being broken asks for repair

maybe it asks for new beginnings

and maybe time will fill all my cracks and holes and being broken is something that I once was but no longer am.