IN LOVE WITH PAIN

V E N T U M

Dedication

Let me

tell you what

makes my heart

feel really heavy.

This is for all the ones,

who lost their lives because

of useless wars, all the ones

whose chapters were filled

with blood , instead of love.

Warning

Spoiler:

This book doesn’t have a happy ending .

W H E N T H E N I G H T C O M E S

The night comes, and the monster in me awakes. I put on a mask and simply call him ventum. This is when the moon cannot save me and the sun is on the other side, when stars are nothing but stars. When the dark tears me apart, I sit there asking: What makes me numb? What makes me depressed? From the outside, it looks like a boy holding a pen, putting on a smile, but the mask lies. Within me, the soul cries, and the more I think, the more I write, the more I hurt, the more I feel alive. My mind gets dark and deep. I pick up words and put them into poems. These are the secrets he and I keep, we become one, and the more we write, the less we sleep. This is where he takes over and becomes my voice in my silence. This is when all I have ever been meets the little boy, the man, the lover, the hurter, and the monster, all in one, in the darkest, most terrible place you’ll ever find. This is when I find comfort in all of the chaos, in the darkness. He might be a monster, but maybe I am too. Maybe he became me—perhaps I am the mask and he is me

—but whatever he is, this is, it saves me, because despite all these dark nights, he’s the one that left a light on.

G L I M P S E S

come in, I’ll show you

a glimpse of my soul,

a glimpse of my heart—

where it starts bleeding,

where wounds become scars,

and where I hide my feelings.

come in, I’ll show my wars,

I’ll show you my mind.

it’s a very dark place.

I’ll show you where

the poems are made.

it’s a very numb,

empty, and lost space.

come in, and I’ll show you

what I’ve become—

too broken for many,

yet loved by some.

—ventum

T H E Y O U N G W R I T E R

in love with pain

were the first words

a young writer once

put on paper, and

I wish I could go back

and tell him to stop,

that he will never

find the balance

between love and pain,

that he will be forever

caught within an old soul

and a very young heart.

I wish I could go back

and tell him that he will be

lost and never find himself,

that I am terrified he will eventually

become a writer, and nothing else.

—ventum

L O S T

I am lost,

numb inside.

I choose to hide

in a sea of ink

where I have

been drowning

over many years.

Find me

in the depths

of these waters,

where love lies

on the ground,

where I don’t

fear being lost,

but being found.

—ventum

W H E N I W R I T E

there is a child

living in my heart,

and in the silence,

when it skips a beat,

you can hear him whisper,

stop, we are not safe.

this is when I put on a mask,

rip myself and words apart,

when I open up these scars,

when they are within,

not seen but felt.

stop, we are not safe.

this is when suffering does

not wear a name or face.

when I rip words apart,

rip them in two,

he whispers, stop,

and with every word,

I rip a part of him too.

—ventum

O L D S O U L

I am an old soul.

love is what i have,

and what i don’t.

carry it within,

deep within,

but perhaps it is,

too much

for this world.

that’s why

I don’t have it.

I see love,

and I carry it within

as the thing it is

pure rawness,

and this is why

I don’t fit in.

I am a too old a soul

in a too-young world.

—ventum

T W O M O M E N T S , A B E AT

I exist in

two seconds,

two moments,

within a beat,

within a skip.

this is how I love.

this is what I am,

this where I exist.

within an ordinary beat,

and a skip of madness.

—ventum

D R E A M E R

I am a dreamer,

neither lost nor found,

waiting for a story

worth dreaming forever.

—ventum

H E A RT S & S O U L S

I walk

on the ashes

of my heart

because I carry

the fire in my soul.

hearts become ashes;

souls burn forever.

—ventum

L O N E LY

being surrounded by many

was the loneliest

chapter in my life.

—ventum

C U R S E D , B L E S S E D

I want to destroy you,

I want to ruin you.

pure madness isn’t it?

as deep as I love,

as deep I can hurt,

as imperfect I am,

as perfect I can be—

I am a total mess,

a beautiful disaster,

cursed and blessed,

worthy of love,

worthy of hate.

—ventum

2:27 A.M.| FEARS

I don’t have many of them, but let’s talk about the silly fears I had as a child. Like thunder. I was always scared of it. If there was a storm, I couldn’t sleep the whole night. That changed when I grew up, though. I love the rain and storms, but that’s another story. My fears changed when I grew up, thanks to love. I didn’t have as many fears in the beginning of adulthood. Then pain cut deep. First, I developed a fear of losing, then I became jealous. And at some point, I feared love. I wish I could say that changed, like my fear of thunder, but some storms hold on longer.

Dammit, already five minutes gone. It’s 2:32 a.m. now. I probably should go to sleep. Oh wait. There is this fear which—but wait, I am not ready for that. Let’s leave that out. I have a fear of losing my parents, which is normal, I guess. Related to family, I feared not having one of my own once. I am a simple guy. I’ve never wanted to be famous. I just want to be known by one person, and I often fear I won’t be. Four minutes gone again. It’s 2:36 a.m. now, which makes me go to my last and biggest fear.

You know what they say, “time is the only thing we have, and don’t.” Such a painful thought, to think you never know how much you have left. As I said, I don’t fear death, but I fear time. I fear time so much. Why? Because we can’t control it. Nobody can. It doesn’t matter who you are, how much you have, what you’ve done, good or bad—time doesn’t wait. As I said, I don’t have many fears, but it’s already 2:40 a.m., and I should really sleep now.

Just a note, while I lost about fifteen minutes by writing this, you lost some too while reading or even re-reading it, which was a waste. You lost a bit of time, and I can’t give it back to you. Nobody can. Some stories are pointless to read twice, some lovers don’t deserve a second chance, and some friends don’t deserve it either. Time doesn’t wait, time doesn’t say, “Okay, let’s stop and try again.” It doesn’t choose the crowds you are surrounded by; it just fades away, and it never comes back, but all the things that time doesn’t do, you can. I can’t give the time back to you, but what I can do is change my lost time into words that may change your mind-set and hopefully have a positive effect.

—ventum

H O P E

suffering today,

loving the very next.

—ventum

L I F E

life is just a moment

between birth and death,

just a deep, deep breath

full of dreams and memories.

—ventum

T I M E

a word that turns even stars into dust.

—ventum

WASTED YOUTH

What I had wrapped in my hands was the youth that slipped away, as it was never mine. I am afraid to say that I have wasted too many years trying to make them happy while building a prison of thoughts in my mind, a cage I could never escape. I realized it but too late, and I wished I wasted that youth more on smiles and laughs. But I didn’t, and that’s why I hold nothing today but a key to my prison. What I hold tightly today is not my youth but my wisdom.

—ventum

F R A G I L E

my heart is too fragile.

just a bit of love,

just a bit of a shake,

is all it’d take,

to make it break

and break and break.

—ventum

TO O M U C H

I often feel

too much,

but sometimes

I feel everything

all at once,

and that’s where

my heart almost

falls apart.

—ventum

S O M E T I M E S

love stole all the

breath from my lungs.

I tried not to feel,

gasping after air,

but this pain was

breathtaking too.

—ventum

“LISTEN”

I

hear

jealousy

whispering,

this

lying

manipulative

asshole.

—ventum

A L M O S T

this is my war,

I let it come close,

but it never kills me,

so it ends as it

always does—

almost.

—ventum

I F I W O U L D A S K Y O U

Does pain make you, or do you make it? Would you choose between them, or would you choose both like me? I made it, and it made me. Life isn’t just about love, but pain as well. Both of them go hand in hand. And this is the whole beautiful, terrifying chaos about it; sometimes I can control the pain, and sometimes I can’t. I have realized that I eventually never heal but just keep it within me. I’ve learned to live with it. To go with it. To just let it be. I found comfort in the pain. And in the end, pain is just a thing I choose to feed, and love is a thing I often seek. The only difference is they don’t exist at the same time. When one is awake, and when the other is asleep.

—ventum

L O V E

you are alive—

breathing doesn’t mean

just a gasp of air.

love sometimes is

much more than that—

and often it isn’t.

PA I N

(read from the bottom)

—ventum

A S A D S TO RY

I caught

my heart breaking

while I was smiling.

such a shame.

—ventum

T H E I R O N Y

love, a lover’s death.

—ventum

L I V I N G F O R E V E R

there is this

very tragic story

about two lovers,

where the girl says,

dying young is beautiful;

they’ll remember you that way.

but the boy

feared losing her,

so he made her the muse,

and the world should know it,

she lived forever,

and he died the day

he became the poet.

—ventum

I D O N ’ T C H A S E S TA R S

Isn’t it foolish,

how I write about

stars all my life

but never chase them?

it would be if I could,

but I can’t chase stars.

I could dedicate all

the time I have, and

I wouldn’t even make

it near to them, and

even if I could they

would burn me alive.

but I can sit in the darkness

and suffer among them,

accepting that chasing them

would be the death of me.

I would chase a love

that never can be.

so these are what’s left,

the night and the

beautiful view that

make my heart

break in two.

I can’t chase stars,

I can’t chase you.

—ventum

TO X I C

when I loved,

it wasn’t enough.

when I was there

all the time,

it wasn’t enough.

when I was the

best of me,

it wasn’t enough.

I choose to,

hurt you,

destroy you,

break you.

so when I finally

had enough and left,

you came back,

just because

I was once

like them.

—ventum

T H E H E A RT B R E A K

I have come to

realize that mornings

destroy me the most.

right after I wake up

is when I feel numb.

—ventum

K I L L M E

you said, it is what it is.

and I wake up every morning,

putting this right on my lips,

next to the coffee that is today

too creamy to remind me of

your dark brown eyes,

which just makes me

take a deeper breath,

and it seems as though hope

burns to ashes with

every inhale,

and I keep hearing,

you need to stop—

it’s going to kill you,

but I keep inhaling,

even though it steals my breath.

this is what makes me feel alive.

all that is left is this,

everything I put on my lips.

it’s as if death gives me a kiss,

but I guess it is what it is.

— the cigarettes and you

—ventum

S U N A N D M O O N

there is a story

about these two

that the world isn’t

brave enough to write.

the moon is

cold and hurting,

while the sun is in

his pain, burning.

and once in a while

they meet, but too rarely

to call it love.

so, the world

calls those moments

eclipses instead,

moon and sun

trying to collide

while we just

see a red light.

and perhaps,

they almost do.

but they never will,

and the saddest part

about these two:

they never knew.

—ventum

S W E E T L I P S

I fear lips

that taste like honey

but speak bitterly.

—ventum

I N T H E M O R N I N G

before the dawn,

I watch the moon disappear.

knowing what is next,

it reminds me

too much of you.

and despite what

we’ve been through,

I can’t wait to feel

the sun burn my skin,

yet I hate it deep within.

I am sick of the sun

for it burned me

like you did.

—ventum

D R O W N I N G

all I heard was

drown, drown, drown.

all I heard was

remember to breathe.

tell me,

did I ever have a chance?

still waters run deep,

and you were the

whole damn ocean.

—ventum

B I R D S E T F R E E

just because

you let a bird

out of a cage

doesn’t mean

it is free.

perhaps

there is a

bigger cage.

—ventum

F E AT H E R I N T H E W I N D

As years went by, I always thought I was a lost feather caught within the forces of the air. I thought that love came in the blowing wind, because this is what I was always told. I can’t control it. I am too lost, too hard to love. But I found out that my love is wild, and when you try to tame it, I get destructive.

I am all the forces that can’t be controlled, that seek to be free. I am not lost; in fact, you lost me. I am the love you will seek, but also the one you will never find, for you tried to control the feather, but I was always the wind.

—ventum

S TA R D U S T

at the end,

I never left pieces,

but always dust.

you will remember me,

for the star I was,

burning for love,

and you will see

not everyone can be.

—ventum

AT O T H E R T I M E S

I think of death

and my breath is calm,

knowing I will find peace.

that makes me think

of you and the moment

you left. something in me

was dying, but my breath

was calm, because I knew

there would be peace after you.

—ventum

D E P T H

I have the depth of a universe in me,

but you never looked at the skies anyway.

—ventum

A L L Y O U E V E R WA N T E D

there it was,

all you ever wanted,

my heart begging

having so much to say,

there it was,

all you ever wanted,

leaving rather than to stay.

—ventum

N O T M E A N T TO B E

what we lacked,

was the rhyme.

when i was the night,

you were the day,

and when you

were the light,

I was darkness.

but if we had said

words differently,

like you are the light

and I am the night.

— the rhyme was missing.

—ventum

T H E B I R D

When I was a child, we found a newborn bird in the garden. Sadly, the mother was dead, so we took him in our house and read about how to care for it. We made him a nest in the beginning when he couldn’t fly yet. After a few weeks, he started to fly a bit, so we bought him a cage but let him fly around a few times a day. After he got too big, we let him out to be free. I don’t know if this is painful or beautiful, but even when set free, he always came back and slept on our windows. He was always around, and perhaps this is love. Once you’ve really felt it, you never let it go.

—ventum

H O M E

I wandered

on the edges

of the galaxies

half a universe away

just to find out

nothing leads me to you.

—ventum

D A N C I N G W I T H Y O U R G H O S T

and there i was

on this empty street,

under all the lights,

dancing into the night

and for all its stars,

and for a moment,

just for a moment,

you were there.

—ventum

S W E E T & B I T T E R

I wonder,

were you bitter to them,

or were you sweet

and they tasted bitter?

if so, that’s funny because

I turned bitter, and that

made me think of you.

I wonder, as you turned

sweet and they hurt you,

did I cross your mind too?

—ventum

S L E E P

the beat of your heart

does not sing me

to sleep anymore.

—ventum

E C H O E S

in the most

silent moments,

when the heart

is the loudest,

you can hear

the feelings

that never left,

like echoes

that come back.

—ventum

O N C E I N A W H I L E

we feel it all again

when we get caught

by the feelings

we left behind,

when a thought

becomes a smile.

in the end we were just

lovers that crossed

each other’s mind

once in a while.

—ventum

L O O K S

we fall

for what we see.

even though

the universe has

an endless depth,

we choose,

too often,

the beauty

of the moon

as to discover the

depth of a soul.

—ventum

H E L L , A N D H E AV E N

Sometimes you fall in love and there is so much fire that hearts and souls burn, that kissing feels like a storm of fire taking over and touching skin burns your hands. There is just so much fire that loving someone hurts like hell. And eventually, two become one. This is when love becomes a whole mess. One day you are cold, the other day burning, because of passion. This is when lovers become sinners—caught in each other’s hell, and heaven.

—ventum

F I R E

they say don’t play with it,

but a glimpse at the flames

that set our souls on fire,

turned them cold, too.

— so, what were we playing with?

—ventum

S I N N E R

you have heaven

in your smile,

hell in your eyes.

looking at you burns

my heart and skin.

you are a devilish lover

and my most loved sin.

—ventum

K N O W N TO B E C O L D

she was known

to be cold, but

she was more

known to burn

for the ones

that set her

soul on fire.

—ventum

B U R N E D S K I N

her skin tastes as if

she walked on fire.

she’s an angel and

one hell of a lover.

—ventum

T H E B U R N I N G A N G E L

she’s caught between

hell, and heaven—

a cold heart and

flames in her soul,

smile of an angel,

mind of the devil.

—ventum

F L A M E S

she never wanted to

run away from the past.

she wasn’t meant to

rise out of the ashes.

she rather walked on them,

with wings on flames and

a smile, as if she was

the one burning it all down

—ventum

T H E S I N

we wanted to love

each other so much

that when the other didn’t,

we still tried.

—ventum

T W O L O V E R S

but

in the end

we were two lovers

in hell and paradise,

making sins in the name of love,

growing a desire to burn passionately in fire.

—ventum

B E A U T I F U L

What she had been through never really bothered her. Even though the world often didn’t love her, it was the world she fell hopelessly in love with. She knew nothing should be taken for granted and appreciated everything that came to her. Even when she was hurting, she let it hurt until it went away. She was the most peace I have known, and she walked in all of it, as if she was just an ordinary girl. But she was the most beautiful, not in just how she looked, but in how she thought.

—ventum

H E R M I N D

her mind is the

most beautiful place.

it is where

walls are too high

and nobody gets in;

where old meets young

and soul meets heart;

where both pairs collide to one,

and she collects those

moments and memories from

a playground full of dreams;

where the woman meets the girl

and plays with the broken pieces

as if they were never broken—

they can hurt her, break her,

but they can’t take away

the peace she lives in.

they can break the woman,

but they can’t break the girl.

—ventum

F R E E D O M

she fell and fell but then began to fly.

—ventum

W I L D F L O W E R

her heart is never

in the same place,

but do not mistake

that with loving less.

she’s everchanging

and grows in places

too wild, too free.

—ventum

H E R

storm in her eyes, peace in her smile.

—ventum

A L L S TO R M S

she could be both,

the madness

of a hurricane

or the peace

of the wind.

she is a mess,

a beautiful mess.

all storms were.

—ventum

S H E ’ S

She’s a perfect mess,

a beautiful disaster,

chaos within tragedy.

—ventum

A RT

she never fit, in the eyes

of the world, but tell me,

how could someone

who found comfort

in the disaster,

beauty in the chaos,

peace in the broken pieces—

how could someone

who was meant to be art,

a masterpiece of tragedy—

tell me, how could she fit

in the eyes of the ones

who did not feel?

—ventum

S H E N E V E R M A D E S E N S E

she’s beautifully

out of this world,

belonging to dreams,

breathing stories

we can’t get

from this poem.

beautifully out of place,

it never made sense.

she never made sense.

—ventum

M A D E O F FA I RY TA L E S

oh darling,

show them your eyes

and the fairytales within—

the dragons and all that’s tragic.

show them your smile—

the world loves magic.

—ventum

U N I V E R S E

she leaves

dust of her heart

everywhere she goes.

she’s at peace

with the universe

in her mind

that has the

depth of the galaxies,

with a soul in the

shades of dark,

eyes full of stars.

—ventum

T E L L U S A B O U T H E R

the world said,

and there I was, left

writing endless poems.

because how do you

explain the universe

to someone who just

belongs in it? How do

you explain the stars

to the ones who’ve never

touched the sky?

—ventum

H A L F O F I T

she always gave away,

half of the moon—

that’s how she

outplayed them.

she knew there

was an entire

galaxy to discover.

—ventum

R O S E S

the summer left

and autumn came,

so she picked up

the roses of the love

they had left behind.

love comes with thorns,

love comes with pain.

they all left storms,

but she was meant

to dance in the rain.

—ventum

H E R S M I L E

is beautifully terrifying.

its where she reveals

sadness and happiness,

and it just doesn’t make sense.

—ventum

T H E S TA R S

I’ve always wondered

whether the stars get jealous

of how bright you shine

on these dark nights.

—ventum

W I T H I N H E R S E L F

is a peace that lives in

the form of an old soul

and the wildness within the beat

of a very young heart.

she lives and loves with

the depth of the mind,

the rawness of her love.

and I wonder if she sees

all the things that I see—

poetry in how she is,

young, beautiful, and free.

—ventum

A S F R E E A S T H E O C E A N

let her be free, or she will

drown you within her depths,

where beautiful waves are,

and where its catastrophic.

the waves of today can be

the tsunamis of tomorrow.

—ventum

WAV E S

the ocean

you once knew

became a sea.

she lost some

of her depth

but found peace

in the still waters,

and she is never

coming back.

—ventum

N AT U R E

she’s rain and wind,

peace and wild combined.

—ventum

D E A R , S O U L M AT E

I don’t know you, neither do I know if we are similar or made of the same things. But I do know, the universe, will push us towards each other, but till then I can just imagine, how you look like, how you feel like and I wonder if your hair will be straight, curly or just a bit wavy, how soft your skin, and tender your voice will be. If you have dimples next to your smile, or freckles beneath your eyes. I wonder, if they look like all the places I never been. And yet all of this doesn’t matter, to how breathtaking your love must be, that just a gasp of air, must feel like forever. The rhythm of your heart must be the perfect symphony to mine, looking at you, must feel like the universe, dancing to words, galaxies turning into poems. This is what you must be, the peace, calming the war within.

—ventum

A L E T T E R

to the women,

I haven’t met yet,

I don’t know

where you live,

but I do know

where you exist:

on the edge

of these letters,

on white paper,

within the space

where the ink is

separated and the

melancholy stops,

where breaths of

hope are taken

in the space of bliss.

I don’t know where you live,

but where you exist is this.

—ventum

A L L T H I S T I M E

tell that little thing

within your chest that

I want to listen to all

the secrets it has to tell,

that I want to know

why it is broken,

where it goes wild,

where it finds peace.

tell that little thing

that I want it how it is,

how it stops and goes,

tell that little thing,

there is a place next to mine,

and it’s been waiting for it

all this time.

—ventum

W H AT I S L O V E ?

A question I might never answer right, or with an explanation that makes sense. But it appears to me that we often mistake love for just a feeling. The reality is, the feelings in the beginning will not last forever. Eventually they will get weaker, or you just get used to it, and this is where there is this big difference in feeling and loving. I don’t know—I may be completely out of place with this—but I think that lots of us concentrate too much on feelings.

When the blinding effects of the feelings stop, many lover’s assume that’s when love stops. Really, this is where love begins. Feelings were always just roots that grow into a trunk with branches. This happens when a relationship is about communication mutual respect, acceptance, selflessness, teamwork, trust, and so on. Perhaps love doesn’t exist in the form we think it does.

Maybe it never was a feeling but the whole picture. It’s not about the roots, the trunk, or the branches—but all that together. I think this is what love really is. This is where it starts: when the blindness stops, and it isn’t about the roots but the whole tree.

—ventum

Y O U A N D M E

such a wild and rebellious act of love.

—ventum

L O V E

we were fools,

falling for smiles

and laughter—

fools

for the

very thing

that made

us think

that love,

only love,

stops time.

—ventum

T H E L O V E R , T H E K I L L E R

in a matter of seconds

before bullets of love hit me,

right before your finger slips,

before it breaks my bones

right through my skin,

I become the lover,

and you the killer.

this is when

my heart begs,

smile again—

pull the trigger.

—ventum

S O U L M AT E S

we smile

at each other

when our hearts skip,

laugh when it starts,

lovers with broken souls

and laughing hearts.

—ventum

CONSTELLATIONS

I feel lost.

oh darling,

that’s how stars love.

—ventum

S O M E T I M E S

love is falling,

trying to fly,

but oh boy,

once you fly…

—ventum

A F E W , A L I T T L E

all we want is

a few smiles,

a few laughs,

a little bit of rain,

a little bit of sun,

a few little moments

to live, to love.

—ventum

B L O O M I N G

once we set seeds

we don’t bother to

go somewhere else.

all we need is water,

and it blows my mind

how we are like flowers

that just wait to bloom

with someone else’s love.

—ventum

T W O W O R L D S

two worlds

falling apart,

colliding into one—

love is such a disaster.

—ventum

H O L D I N G Y O U

I am the hand

that holds you

when your world

breaks in two.

—ventum

H O R I Z O N

in a time

where love seems

to have no depth,

you sit there in the

shallow of the seas,

asking how you could

fall for me.

I share

the weakness of

the sun and moon.

when you smile,

when you laugh,

as love can

make you do,

is when I fall

for the ocean

that is you.

—ventum

F O R E V E R

some walk on love

as if they are

a shooting star

burning out

between galaxies,

and I wonder if this is

what forever feels like—

just a second.

—ventum

E C L I P S E

when they kissed,

one was beneath the sun,

the other beneath the moon,

they collided with lips,

and their world turned

into a total eclipse.

—ventum

WAV E S

love comes in waves,

and we were just

waiting like grains of sand

to be taken into the depths.

—ventum

D R U N K P O E T

every time

you told yourself,

I am not enough,

it was as you filled these

words into an empty bottle.

this is when you made me

completely drunk in love.

poems never tasted as good,

and I was always too drunk

to explain how much

you really were.

—ventum

L E T T I N G G O

Don’t let it go. Hold onto it. Let it hurt. The truth is, you can’t choose either way. Fighting it will create an even bigger war. Don’t reverse progress that has already been made because there is nothing like just letting go and being free. Whoever says otherwise is lying. You need to feel pain as you feel love.

And that will hurt. You will feel numb, sometimes more, sometimes less, and on some days, you will laugh and feel joy. And when you think, finally, it’s going to get better, it comes back, and destroys you in ways you thought words, memories, and moments never could. Breathing will seem like a challenge. You’ll feel weak because healing seems like such a weak thing to do. This will go on for weeks and months, and it will feel like forever, and even then, you never will be the same as before. I think if someone leaves, a big part of us will leave with them, and I think you never truly heal. You learn to live with it. It won’t hurt, but you will always remember. That’s when wounds become scars. But don’t let it go. Let it hurt. Growth starts not with forgetting but accepting.

—ventum

T H E F I G H T

if you catch your heart and mind at war,

it is your worth, the mind is fighting for.

—ventum

M I S TA K E N

you have

mistaken me

for a love to just

keep around,

but you don’t

just keep

flowers around

and then ask

why they aren’t

growing.

—ventum

PAT I E N C E

love me

with patience.

I wasn’t born

without a heart.

I am not cold.

I am still learning

to feel it again.

maybe not tonight, but

perhaps tomorrow,

I’ll find the light.

—ventum

B L A M E

there is a time

when you hurt,

there is a time

when you heal,

there is a time

when you feel,

but there is never

a wrong time.

do not blame

a decision on time.

—ventum

L E AV I N G L O V E

some leave love,

and with that

they leave hope.

—ventum

TO O L AT E

I am afraid

to say we already

have planted seeds

from which our children

will reap poison.

—ventum

W O R S T K I N D

the worst kind of people

are the ones who push you

to the edge of a cliff but

never far enough to let you fall.

—ventum

L O V E I S N O T A G A M E

but if it is,

and you are playing,

you are already losing.

—ventum

H O W O F T E N C A N A H E A R T B R E A K ?

as often as you let it.

—ventum

W H E N T H E Y L E AV E

you break the most

when people leave,

because it is as if a

piece of you leaves too.

—ventum

T H E W O R L D E N D S

not when the heart breaks,

but when the soul does.

—ventum

P O I S O N

don’t search for love in hate;

you won’t find life in a

sea filled with poison.

—ventum

W O U N D S

sometimes

they cut too deep

to forgive or forget.

—ventum

I T S N O T

don’t tell

yourself

it’s love.

you being

hurt is not

how they love.

it’s just you hurting.

—ventum

P O W E R

women like you

turn winds into

entire storms,

and yet you ask,

am I enough.

—ventum

T H I N G S C H A N G E

when you become

enough for yourself

and too much for them.

—ventum

B A L A N C E

nothing breaks like a heart,

but nothing heals as one.

—ventum

A L L , H A L F , N O T H I N G

it’s okay

to feel it all.

it’s okay

to feel half,

or nothing at all.

— the moon isn’t always full.

—ventum

B E T T E R

often

there is a much

better love,

a much bigger

picture

than what you

have the

pieces for

right now.

—ventum

B R AV E

you trust your vulnerability,

and yet you ask how to be strong.

— a hell of a plot twist

—ventum

L E T I T H U RT

let rivers flow in you;

that’s how you heal

and eventually

find the way out.

—ventum

A G A I N A N D A G A I N

that’s life—we live,

love, and fly,

and if all that

doesn’t work now,

tomorrow we try.

—ventum

L O N G & S H O RT

this is us in a long story or at the end of a short poem. to all the beautiful ones who wonder, is he writing about me or about someone special: I am writing to all of us, to me, to you, because some of us were left alone in pain.

it’s an absolute mess—no, it’s much more. it’s different and an absolute disaster. it’s in chaos from how they left us—oh, and from all the ways they hurt us. but, dear, rest, rest, because you been through too much.

but don’t forget how to live in this pain. life is so beautiful. there is more than we know. we are just grains of sand in all the waves—

you, me, everyone is meant to be

special in someone’s story. one day you will be, and trust me, one day love will feel so different from all the poems you know, different from all the stories this world has told you until now.

the love in you will once be set free. until then, rest. because you been through too much.

—ventum

I L O S T Y O U

in the place

where love

once grew

A N D

in the pieces

that were not

enough for you.

I F O U N D M E .

who would’ve

thought losing you,

would set me free.

—ventum

B U T D E A R

there is sun after rain, love after pain.

—ventum

W E A K N E S S

hurting seems like

such a weak thing to do,

but the truth is

you are in a process

of healing from a love

you felt too much.

—ventum

O V E RT H I N K I N G

you’ll break,

fall apart,

and when you do,

you’ll overthink it.

it will feel like drowning

within a sea.

but trust me,

you’ll heal.

first you drown,

but then you’ll be free.

—ventum

W O U N D S B E C O M E S C A R S

that’s when you

don’t hurt anymore.

you heal, but you’ll

always remember.

and that’s okay.

growth starts

not with forgetting

but with accepting.

—ventum

L I F E A N D T H E S TO R I E S

Don’t think you have already written some lines, filled some of the pages, or even ended a few chapters. The reality is you didn’t even start writing. This book doesn’t start when you are born or with the first heartbreak or first love.

Everything up to now doesn’t matter if beauty or pain are always outside the book. Your book doesn’t start with all of this; it starts when all of what was makes sense.

—ventum

S E L F - L O V E

there are so many people to love,

but the best one is always

you.

—ventum

I H O P E

you get lost

in yourself and

that it is self-love,

you find within,

that after a while,

you look in the mirror,

with your pretty eyes

and your cheeky smile.

—ventum

S A M E FA C E

once you

fall in love

with yourself,

they will get

a glimpse of life

on the exact same face

that was struggling to smile.

that’s when the world

falls in love with you.

—ventum

O H D A R L I N G

love will come

as if the sun

was never gone.

—ventum

R I V E R S

like rivers,

we end up

where we

always were

meant to go.

—ventum

L E T Y O U R H E A RT K N O W

as long as it beats,

as long as it feels,

it is alive.

you are alive.

and as long

there is life,

there is love,

there is hope,

there is you.

—ventum

C H A P T E R S ?

I thought to put this book in chapters, but why? Life doesn’t work in chapters. You heal today, hurt tomorrow, or hurt today and heal tomorrow. It doesn’t work in falling, loving hurting and at the end, healing. Sometimes you fall but don’t love, or you hurt for a long, long time till you feel a release.

Sometimes you heal and don’t fall for many years. Often, all this repeats over and over again You can’t just turn the page and move on. The truth isn’t that simple. Sometimes you will feel more, sometimes less. It takes a damn long time to go through it, and you will change along the way. That is part of growing, so why should I put walls between who I was and who I am? All that was is still a part of me and always will be. Sometimes it is about finding comfort in the mess, not ordering it. That’s why I decided to make this book a whole mess, because in the end, it is a mirror of my soul and heart.

—ventum

P O E T RY

love from the broken.

—ventum

L O V E S TO RY

the reader and the writer

must be the deepest, wildest

love story that was never told.

—ventum

W R I T I N G

putting it on

paper is a relief,

the writer said.

this is when

I was shocked,

in disbelief, thinking,

I must be a poet then.

—ventum

O L D & Y O U N G

I believe souls are old,

and hearts are young,

that’s why we break easy.

—ventum

TO Y O U N G W R I T E R S

Before you pick up the pen and put it on paper, I want you to know that there is no such thing as the perfect prose or the perfect poems. I want you to know that there will be things that someone already said, already wrote, already used, but it’s not about the words; it’s about the voice that says them, the mind that thinks them, the heart that feels them. I don’t have many things to say about how to start writing. Just know that by taking this step, you are walking into eternity; think about what you write, what you say, what you use. A writer’s first words, first lyrics, first poem can be something great. It can be a voice that nobody has ever heard but always needed to listen to.

Words are the most powerful weapon every human has within. Without words, there wouldn’t be actions. You never know how much of a difference a few words, can make to a soul, a heart, or even the world. You never know how great your words can be, how great you can be. If you have something to say, write it. Write it loud

—ventum

B A D H A B I T S

writers have a bad habit

of keeping stories alive

that have long ended.

—ventum

TO B E F E LT

and one day

we will be wise.

we will realize

love never had

to make sense,

just be felt.

—ventum

A D D I C T E D

I am going to tell you

a secret about writers.

There are two of us:

the ones with love,

and the ones with the pain

and drugs we loved dying for.

—ventum

T H E R E A D E R S

I have found that

women are often

unafraid to show

they are hurting.

they are often

the loud readers.

they share it,

show it to the world,

show their strength,

and then

there is a minority

that hurts in silence,

the silent readers

I call “men”.

—ventum

S TO R I E S

I believe

we die

many times

in our lives,

most often

while reading

or writing.

I believe

at the end

of a story

the writer and

the reader die.

—ventum

T H I N G S P O E T S D O N ’ T W R I T E

There are things nobody wants to say: That love can be an ugly thing. That you’ll hurt a long time and won’t fully heal from it. That there is quite a pain that will follow you day and night. That you just cannot let go that easily.

There are poems we don’t want to write: That the moon is gone more often than that it is full. That the sun is just another star of many. That the universe could have an end. That storms are not always beautiful (and usually just destroy). That the ocean is not endless. That flowers don’t last forever, and that roses are more painful than beautiful. That chaos is a terrible thing and being a mess was never healthy for a relationship. That wildness was never good for lovers. That life is not forever. These are all the things writers don’t dare to write. Because writers fear reality. Writers are just kids, living in their own imaginations, far away from reality, and readers just pay for the show.

—ventum

W H E N I B I T E T H E D U S T

words live forever,

that’s why I write

because with my

last breath

all of me,

is this.

—ventum

O N E D AY

with my last breath,

I will be known for

being foolish or wise.

it will leave the

world speechless,

or they will be

disgusted at me for

saying love is pain and

life is nothing but death.

for being a broken soul

with a laughing heart,

for falling in love with pain,

I’ll be a fool for many,

or wise for some.

although all

of this was tough,

I never lived and loved

quite enough.

—ventum

B E K I N D

a moment or a smile can let others breathe.

—ventum

A M O M E N T

Little moments where a few words and a little conversation makes you smile are what life is about. I live for these things; this is why I want to tell you about a person I met last night who made me smile in a moment when I was struggling. I hope that whenever you are struggling with anything, this makes you smile too. this page is dedicated to you, the girl who cut her dolls open at a young age in order to become a doctor. I believe in you.

—ventum

LAST WORDS

there is an end

to everything

the world whispers.

perhaps

the universe answers

in a sarcastic manner.

—ventum

THE END

there is no happy endling,

but there is this.

this moment.

two strangers,

you and me,

sharing a moment,

through this book.

I hope

I made you

smile, cry, feel.

perhaps this is

the meaning of life,

little moments like this.

to smile, to cry, to feel.

perhaps this is it.

this moment.

this perfect ending.

—ventum

LATIN

DEFINITIONEM VENTUM

1. a tempestate

2. impetus tempestatis

3. motus aeris

4. anfractibus vel circularis vel habere directionem 5. vim vi perniciosa

ENGLISH

DEFINITION OF WIND

1. a storm

2. a hurricane

3. air in natural motion

4. to have a circular or spiral course or direction 5. a destructive force or influence

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