The Red is the colour of my life

Why are the traffic lights of my life always red? 


Even when I want to go, yellow stops me, in the moment, and doesn’t let me move an inch.


 I stand, I expect, hope exists, but is fading away.


I’m not going back where I’ve been, I want to go, go forward.


 But the green light does not come on. 


Is it a sign? 


Do I have stay where I am, and face all the memories from the past, before I move on? 


Again,  go through all the mistakes and harsh words, wrong acts, reckless thoughts……




Who decides where I’m going?  And when?


Am I not  the one who has the right to decide the moment is right or wrong?



Why anyone thinks that he is entitled to play with my traffic lights??


I am completely faced and aware with the consequences of what I have done.


How long will this purgatory last ?


In  eternity? 


Too long for me.



Please,  whoever looks at it all and knows all,

the one who gives himself  the right to decide instead of me,

please, ask him in my name- to let me pass through.


 I have suffered enough, and Red is not my color anymore.





Crveno je boja mog zivota

Zašto je na semaforu moga života uvijek crveno?

Čak i kada krenem, žuto me zaustavi u trenu i ne mičem se.

Stojim, očekujem, nada postoji ali je sve manja.

Natrag se ne vraćam, želim naprijed, naprijed, bilo kuda.

Ali svjetlo se ne pali.

Da li je to znak?

Moram li ostati tu gdje jesam i suočiti se sa svime prije nego što krenem dalje?

Opet proći sve pogreške i teške riječi, pogrešna djela, nepromišljene misli.

Zašto i čemu? Tko odlučuje o mojem putu? Zar nisam ja ta koja ima pravo ustati i otići? Zašto netko smatra da ima pravo koje nema? Ja sam svoja, ja sam ja, posve suočena s posljedicama svega što učinih.

Koliko će trajati ovo čistilište? U vječnost? Predugo.

Molim onoga tko gleda sve i zna sve, onoga tko si daje pravo odlučivati da uništi taj okov i pusti me, konačno. Odslužila sam svoje i crveno više nije moja boja.


Boy and his sorrow dragons


One winter morning, a boy woke up.

He was not any particular boy, or the morning was in any way special.

He knew it was Christmas, but he had long ceased to believe in the Tooth Fairy, Santa Claus, St. Nicholas, and everything else that makes kid feel like a kid.

Under the Christmas tree stood a gift. He knew what he got. He felt no happiness or joy. He didn’t care. At all.

Mom was still asleep. It was early in the morning.

The boy took his favorite books about dragons, made himslef some warm milk, and read.

Outside, it was snowing.

He wondered if maybe later he’ll go out, but even for that he had no will.

He read and enjoyed his imaginary world.

Where there is no contention, grief, loss, illness and tears.

For his age he had seen too much.

He decided to open a gift when mom woke up.

He will fake joy and play with her.

He knew she was looking forward to it. Knew she loved him soo much that it hurted.

When he was telling her that he loves her, then the tears came. She cried for because of so much love she had.

But the boy was in pain because she was always sad. even while she was laughing with him, while they watched movies, drawing, he could fell some kind a void inside her.

He knew why. He was just a child, but not in his mind. He knew.

When she wakes up, he’ll make coffee. That would cheer her up.

His friend Fred called to meet with him this afternoon. To play outside, in the snow.

He refused. He did not like to leave mother alone. He loved to be with her, every possible moment he had.

Maybe mum did not know how he sees everything. How he feel everything.

Although being just a child, he learned to suppress emotions. Just like mother did.

Their grief turned into something invisible but always present and touchable, like a soap ballon ready to burst.

He replaced this surrounding grief world, with his own, in whom dragons ruled, mums didn’t cried, didn’t have to take medications, and mums never had to leave home. Sometimes she was gone for days, weeks.

It didn’t make a difference if he knew where mum left. When she returned she was different and changed, less sad, but always brought that bubble again with her. Invisible, yet touchable.

He did not want to change anything. He knew that everything would be fine. He just to be there, for her, for him.

To be good. To laugh. Tell her that he loves her. Every day.

It didn’t matter he had only eight years, he understood very good that life is not easy.

Does not always bring what you want. That ugly things occur.

Once, a long time ago, he had a father. Now he had only mother, occasionally in rare moments.

There where times when he asked her something, but she didn’t reply, she just stared at the wall, empty and silent. Sometimes for hours.

He got accustomed to it.

He got accustomed to such a way of life. Mother was all he had, anyway.

He decided to go out with Fred.

Mom will be fine.

Yet, today is Christmas. Maybe, just maybe, Santa heard and fulfilled him one wish that he never, ever told anyone. He did not want to admit this wish even to himself.

But it was the wish from the deepest place in his small child heart.

All he wanted was Christmas morning full of laughter, favorite vanilla cookies mum used to bake. And a family.

He knew that it was probably too much to ask. So he returned to his book, to that what was real for him.

Red Fire Dragon. War in the story land, dragons and elfs…

And outside, it was snowing. And it was Christmas. And mom was still asleep.


Black road travelled in the night

Black road travelled in the night

Not mine photo. Too bad, because it is perfect.
It represents everything in my mind, colourless, empty, leading…somewhere.

I dream of driving full speed on a road like that, feeling free of everything that surrounds me at this very moment.
I don’t need companion, never had or nedeed one in fact.
I used to be alone, learned to speak with myself and make my own decisions.
Only thing that’s missing is a someone with who I can share a beautiful, hot mug of freshly made coffee in the moment of a sunrise in the end of the road
In silence.
No words nedeed.
Free open space. coffee taste, sun on the horizon appearing in a slight, yet visible form, touching my face.
Reminding me that, I am, in fact still alive.
Because, when travelling the black road, alone, you lose a sense of yourself.
As if nothing exists but blackness and speed.

Find yourself. Travel the black road. Bring a companion if you like. Or lose yourself in the perfection of the moment.

Wherever you are going, you’re always find your way back home.

And to yourself.

Trigeminy 303

Memories of what wasn’t supposed to be

Not expected so much rain today. Maybe it will become a flood. It makes me sleepy, moody, down.

Everything a woman is expected to be. But I’m not that kind of a woman, so I’m surprised with my own reactions.

I’ll grab some chocolate. Lay down. Listen to music. Think about opportunities and mistakes I have made.

I know, I know, bad choice of thoughts, but it’s a my mind discussion wich has to be done, sooner or later.

In the name of that, another undiagnosed “poem” ( oh, how I like that term).

Don’t call me

Don’t text me

Don’t even think of me.

You have no rights, no purpose in my life and my mind.

I erased you like a bad drawing from the plain paper, put you into garbage and kicked away with pleasure..

Please, you should do the same.

Our last conversation, silent, with no words at all.

Could I even call it conversation?

I had nothing to say, after you said everything, in four little, tiny words.





Enough said. Welcome to the exit door of my life. Please, shut it down.

I won’t look back.



Insomnia is a word that describes not being able to fall asleep, no matter how tired you are.
Well, didn’t had it for years and now is full blown back.
Night passes by, and in a blink of an eye, there it is, morning, sunrise, and all that shit that reminds me how the day started, but I haven’t even finished the last one.
It’s like living in a day that has no ending.
I mostly hate birds. They start yelling, I swear, the’re yelling, around five o’clock in the morning. Just before the sunrise.
Now I’m in the mood for listening some hard heavy metal just too get up my neighbours. If I don’t sleep, why should they?

Ok, ok I am not that cold harted and bitchy.

So here it comes a haiku wannabe (undiagnosed poem) wich I dedicate to solstice, full moon, not sleeping.

Good night you say
Hang up the phone
And leave me
In darkness.
For ten sleepless hours
I stared at TV, ceiling and wall.
Break the circle
Call me
In the moment I finally got asleep
With the sunrise.
I wanted to hurt you so badly
But you’re lucky
You’re not near
So all you get is a pile of
Not connected words
Meaningless sentences.
You don’t understand why.
Maybe, I should just shoot U down.


The darkest hour

Strange unknown house. My not-so-good friend party, birthday or whatsoever. Didn’t bother me too much, the occasion I mean. I was there, that was all that counted.

Boring to the bone.
Waiting to leave, unnoticed, without asking and answering stupid questions.

I was lost in the crowd with unfamiliar people, drinking my mojito, third, fourth, who counts anyway, looking for the door.
Tried to push myself to the limit of toleration of surrounding noise. The moment I felt my thoughts messed up, my head about to explode, I was seeking the way out.
No goodbye to anyone, just wanted to disappear without the trace.

I walked through the crowd, head down. Noone noticed me, I was invisible, the state wich is able to achieve if you know how. Blended into surrounding mess, words, polite chats. Awful.

As I entered the hallway, darkness surrounded me. I remembered where the entrance and the front door were. But there was complete blackness around. No lights at all. I was completely blind. Put my hand into the purse looking for my cell phone..but nothing.

Fuck, I thought.Fuck, fuck. Where is the fucking light? The switch?! Anything!?.

My purse filled up with thousand unnecessary things.
Like all the woman’s bags, you could survive the World War III with the content of the bag. Felt the lipstick under my fingers, car keys, wallet, everything and nothing useful.

I broke with anger, yelling at myself, thinking about entering that grey party zone again..I was so desperate.

And then.. that sound behind me.

Like a soft whisper. Like a tip toe walking towards me from behind.

“Hello?”, I asked.

No answer.

Sound again, this time, breathing, slow deep breaths, almost touching my neck.

I could fell chills down the spine. My hands started to shake. I wasn’t scared, I was horrified.

There was someone. Breathing behind me. I could feel his presence, the warmth that was getting closer and closer.

“What do you want? Who is it!?”. No answer. Silence, thick and heavy, you could smell it, the fear, the horror, you could slice it with a knife.

And then..there it was.

Hand on my mouth. Hand around my waist, felling pulled away.

Wanted to yell, I couldn’t, wanted to bite, I couldn’t, wanted to fight, I couldn’t. He was too strong.

Heard the door squeak as they opened. He turned me around like a doll, pushed me somewhere.
There were dimming lights penetrating the window blinds.
It was a room. Messy place. Smell of wine, cigarettes..
He pushed me again, hard, hurting my hand. I screamed this time, but who was suppose to hear me?!

I landed on the bed, trying to stand up, to get away, to run..I felt nothing but my heart beating way through the chest.

His arms took my wrists, hard. ” You’re hurting me! Let go of me! You motherfucker!” Words flowed out of me with no respond.

I couldn’t breathe as he simply lie down on me. He, heavy as a rock, lied, and hurting me, I tried to move, with every muscle, with every drop of my remaining energy, freaking out.
I just couldn’t. Not an inch.

“I was waiting for this, for so long….”, whispered in my ear, distant, cold, unknown voice.

I started crying. This wasn’t happening Not to me. Not to me. Not to me!! It was just a dream I repeated to myself, just a nightmare, I should wake up any second now. Any second, I thought…

But i didn’t.

I felt him. Completely. Tearing my clothes away, mumbling something in a distance..

His face, barely visible, not recognizable, and mine, filled with terror, met inches away. I could feel his breath on my face.

“You want it. You wanted it. I know”, he said.

“No!!!” Screaming didn’t sound like my voice, more like a sound of the hurt animal brought to slaughtering.

I felt hopeless. Felt tied down. Defeated. Wanted to give up.
My mind wandered somewhere, far, far away.
I thought, if it must be, please God, let it be quick.
Tears rolling down my face, I was trembling with frailty. So vulnerable, so fragile.
So not me.


All around came the light, hurting my eyes. Someone came into the room.

“What the fuck!”. Remote voice, through the fog of misery.

He jumped. Literally jumped out of the bed.

I lied down for a while, unable to move. Felt someones hands helping me to get up. To get dressed. Wiping my tears.

As police came, and ambulance, I don’t remember a thing. I spoke something, do not remember what, shaking.

Driving to hospital, lights of the ambulance car and sirens..distant. Felt as nothing of this was happening to me. Felt aloof and empty. Just an empty sheell. Every inch of my body hurt. Body? That was not my body anymore.

Three days later, 18 stitches later, numberless consultations and answering..I went home.

He was brought to prison, that much I know. And got out for a minimum number of months. Physical assault, good beahviour.

Unlike his, my prison and burden never left me. I buried it deep inside, where noone can see it. It digs up his way out sometimes, but I beat it.

And now, this is me. Beating it up now, in this time, but not when I should did it. Because I couldn’t then.

I was old me again..after a countless months.

An that is what I call my triumph, to overcome myself.

I am Titanium.


Last night behind the wheel

I couldn’t resist, it was almost full moon, warm summer evening. I sat in the car and drove.
Just drove true the night. Music loud, windows down, feeling of freedom and that special scent of summer night.
Mixture of fresh grass, asphalt, ozone after rain, and gasoline.

Me and my car, one entity, driving and exploring, leaving the world behind.
Thoughts, emotions, blended into one bubble that would never burst.

I stopped by some unknown woods, and there was that meadow, barely seen through the dark.
I left the car, and sat down on the grass, slightly wet from afternoon rain, just catching the moment,and wishing it would never end. Moon above me, stars, no cloud in the dark skies above me, not even one.

And then, there it came. Two falling meteors, one following the other.

I laughed, echoing in the surrounding silence, and thought about making a wish, but why?
I had everything I needed in that perfect frozen time moment.

Only one thing remained empty. The place beside me.
The person with I could share the moment stolen from time.
No regrets, though.
If it should be empty, then be it.

I leaved all of it, driving back to the familiar roads.
But my mind stayed there, like in the movie that would stay forever imprinted, with no subtitles, no ending, and with no beginning.


The World As It Is

I am great, I am fine

I’m not losing my mind.
It left me a few years ago.
And struggling without it in the world I know,
Is a fight that never ends.

No beginning, no story to catch,
Just me on my night watch.

And who the fuck are You- to judge me?

When your own excuses annoy me,
Giving you the right to be the moral judge,
In the same time you’re doing nothing right,
Just giving yourself to the world as it is,
The wrong, the immoral and unblessed as well.

So walk away and leave me alone,
My decisions are all my own.

You are also not able to do anything right, because this world is all upside down.

With nothing to give and all to take,
Just plane misery when you awake.
Choose a path, don’t get me wrong,
Stay in the herd or leave it alone.

Finally, I have my head clear, my soul was always intact.
My mind is on the call, awaiting an attack.
Because there’s no one to understand, give or feel,
Just you and me, my sweetie,
There’s nothing else real.

I don’t have to pretend like you do,
My own statements break down the wall, while you sit and wait to be accused, and for your own words sued.

So be it, like it is meant to be.
That means to be free or follow the messy crowd.

The rumor of the heard is breaking you down.
Well piglets,
I’d rather be Myself then be like You.

I’m not giving anyone my soul, and remember, I will never ever follow You.