This poem and photo were first published in TU Delft's Hesidos Magazine in 2018. It was written after the DORP/Welcome to the Village Festival. 


More of my poetry can be found on my Instagram.

The thought came from nowhere

Just appeared in the air above my head

And crushed through my skull with a screech

Shattering a tangled web of thoughts

Grinding thousands of new machinations and wild ideas

into a flurry of powdery wisps

Ripping down through my head, sucking all the moisture from my

mouth and dumping it into my suddenly watery eyes.

The thought cascades down, pushing a knot into my throat

Plunging into my chest, hammering straight into my heart

Rocketing tiny bits of fiery emotion around my ribcage

Shards of little burning shards swirling among the flaky ideas

as the the thought plummets through it all unhindered

Finally landing with a resounding shudder

somewhere down below,

shaking the feelings from deep within the catacombs of my gut.

Instinct flies up into the void,

colliding with whips of thoughts

and burning embers of emotions.

A cacophony of chaos, each piece shouting it’s own message into the din: fears intersecting with impulse.

One step. Two. Three. There.


Ducking through the campsite.

We come together at the same spot where we really met.

Where we laughed and shared secrets and stayed up too late.

She asked what I was doing.

"I thought about you."

One kiss. Two. Three.

Hopes colluding with a memory, only to be drug down by some self-protective reflex. A flaming sliver of emotion catches ideas alight, burning through a thousand permutations before fizzling out in the fumes of another. The thought grinds my feet to to halt, tugging at my lungs, reminding me all this time I had been holding it all in. No longer.

I suck in a dose of clarity with the sticky afternoon air. The map, compass and sextant all pointed the same way. It has never been so clear. I have no choice now but to follow.

We broke.

Blamed it on the lack of sleep. The swirling concoction slowly subsides as the two of us silently stride back to the festival, smiles slipping through our exhausted faces. A few long days and longer nights follow, smiles and nice conversations and good parties. But silence also. Long hugs in the morning and slow afternoon smokes lounging in each other’s arms. A peaceful silence.

Something that doesn’t come often. Our first real kiss was our last. Long after I’d thought I lost her she came back to me. A glowing dervish in an otherwise dark last night.

The next day I sat with one of the wise ones.

A man who speaks as much to you as from within you.

He asked how my experience was, if I enjoyed it.

I told him I’d see her again.


He asked me if I’d fell in love.

I lied.


“We’ll see."

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