Ana Schatzmann

Ana Schatzmann Poems

Not long ago I cared too much.
I cared about everything and everyone but not about myself.
I wanted to make everyone happy, while I was getting unhappier and unhappier.
I gave everyone another chance, no matter how much they had hurt me.
...

I've got this theory that everyone sees colours differently. That what I see as red, you could see as blue, and someone could see as purple. But we all NAME it 'red'.
I believe in that, but in a much bigger perspective. What if it were like that for every sense? It would explain why we each have different favourites. Different colours that appeal to us, different likes and dislikes in food, different tastes in music, different smells were fascinated with. I, personally, don't really like Sprite, the bubbles feel weird on my tongue. But other people around me say they love Sprite. How can that be possible if it's the same drink? Because we're not the same people! Maybe it's the colour theory. Yes, it's the same, but each person registers it differently. Maybe I taste what you know as acid when I take a sip from a Coke can.
Now I'm gonna take it a step further: falling in love.
I've lived with myself for sixteen years. I know every crack and crevice of myself twice over. And when I look in the mirror, I see imperfections everywhere. My reflection is like Sprite to me: I've tried so many times to like it or to get used to how it feels, but I just can't do it. And I wonder how anyone could fall in love with me. (Even though I said falling in love it doesn't necessarily has to be love that we're talking about right now! You could see it in a friendship way too if that's what you prefer. But basically 'liking' a person, in the love way or not.) but maybe, just maybe the Muriel my eyes register is not how others register me. Maybe, though I see myself as deep blue skies, someone else sees me as pink cotton candy clouds, and to others I'm a deep orange sunrise. They might see a different person in me. A person who is beautiful.
...

I still remember every detail of this house, the look and the smell of it, the whole atmosphere.
I remember the blue walls of my room, the doctor's office that I could see when I looked out of the window.
I remember the kitchen, it was the biggest and cleanest kitchen I have ever seen.
The bathroom with its bright lights and all the perfume bottles standing on the shelf, in a perfect order.
...

Du weisst nicht was du willst.
Keine Angst, ich weiss auch nicht was ich will.

Wer weiss schon was er will?
...

Er zaubert aus jeder meiner Tränen ein Lachen. Und aus keinem Lachen je eine einzige Träne. Er macht Angst zu Mut und Zwänge zu purer Neugier.
Er hört mir zu wenn ich rede, genauso wenn ich schweige. Er löst Probleme mit den richtigen Worten und nie mit Gewalt.
Wenn ich mich verlaufe, dann ist er bei mir und finde ich nicht mehr zurück, nimmt er meine Hand.
Er holt mich zu sich in die Realität, wenn ich wieder jegliches Gefühl für Zeit und Raum verloren habe. Er nimmt mir meine Angst und bringt mir mein verlorenes Vertrauen in diese Welt nach und nach zurück.
...

A happy, colorful young lady that joked around with everyone and enjoyed life to its fullest.
This is how I remember her.
But times change, people change.
Now she's heartbroken, lost in a world that doesn't exist,
...

It's 3: 27 a.m. and I'm alone.
I'm sitting on my bed, starring at the blue walls as if they could give me answers to all the silent questions.
The thought of sleep hasn't crossed my mind once.
...

'If you could have any superpower you want, what would it be? ' I remember you asking me that one night. I still remember your face close to mine, looking at me and patiently waiting for an answer.
'That's no easy question', I replied. I closed my eyes and thought about all the superpowers that came into my mind. My head was resting on your chest, we were sitting on the ground, above us the stars. I remember feeling your heartbeat and hearing you breathing.
In that moment, life was perfect. Not the kind of perfect where nothing was wrong. But the kind of perfect where the wrongs don't matter.
'I would have the ability to control time. To stop time whenever I need to enjoy the moment a little longer. To turn back time, just to relive some moments.' I finally said. You didn't say anything, but I didn't mind. I opened my eyes and tried to find your eyes in the dark.
...

I left this familiar surroundings and this oh so cold society with the idea of finding myself.
But all I could find was an even colder society - and you.
Whatever this is, it is not what I came for but who would I be to control the future?
In all this time when I had no choice but do nothing else than thinking I yet started finding myself, who I really am and what I truly want.
...

The Best Poem Of Ana Schatzmann

Careless

Not long ago I cared too much.
I cared about everything and everyone but not about myself.
I wanted to make everyone happy, while I was getting unhappier and unhappier.
I gave everyone another chance, no matter how much they had hurt me.
And when they went back to how they used to be I just gave them another chance.
And another one. And another one.
Were they happy? Yes.
Was I happy? No.
I would give them all the happiness that was left and take so much pain as long as I didn't hurt anyone.
But I did. I hurt someone, not just a someone.
And then I stopped caring. Stopped being nice. Started being happy.

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