Literally Inclined

Silhouette Never saying a word Close to the ground You follow me around Sometimes you are long Sometimes you are small Sometimes you are not even there at all You are silent You are creeping and you stalk You imitate my movements and follow me on every walk You are there in summer You are there in the rain You are there and you’ll never leave me again You are a part of me as much as you are not You are my shadow and you are all that I have got

From Paris to London There are raindrops on the window. The city outside looks blurry and grey. It’s just another rainy Wednesday morning. Taylor Swift is singing silently, but I’m not listening. I’m thinking about you and your soft lips, as the train is rattling through the murky weather. You kissed me the last time when the sun was still shining for me. You smelled manly and your lips tasted salty from the water we were standing in. Drops of water were running down your upper body, carefully caressing your abs as your skin was covered in goosebumps. Your skin had a caramel shade from all the time we had spent in the sun during this summer. “I love you”. You whispered in my ear. There were a thousand butterflies in my belly and I couldn’t believe how lucky I was. But this all ended when I had to go home and you couldn’t decide whether or not you were ready to live with me. Now I am sitting on the train on my way to university and haven’t talked to you in three weeks. ...

#MeToo Two words Shame and silence Two words Anxiety and anger Two words Pain and powerlessness But also Two words Help and hope Two words Love and life-affirming Two words Perseverance and positivity #MeToo

Raindrops were painting pictures on the windows of the bus. She was fascinated by how the raindrops did their drawings. Smudged images of grey and light green scenery with people looking like drops of color race by. A stop light. A stop light was significant for her life at the moment.  The bus stopped, but kept going shortly after. Everything keeps going its own ways in life, she thought. It took about half an hour until she finally reached her destination. She stepped out of the bus, realizing she didn't have an umbrella. There is no protection. It's just like life.  As she walked down the street with no idea where to go, the backpack on her felt heavier with each footstep she took. Her feet started to get soaked from the puddles she did not avoid. It's just like life. But she kept walking. She kept walking and walking with nowhere to go to and no reason to go anywhere. The only reason to go somewhere was the hope to find a better place.  She wasn't able t...

Rejsen går til et nyt liv ( Det her er en historie, som jeg skrev for at deltage i en konkurrence. Den vandt dog ikke. Det er den første historie som jeg skrev på dansk. ) Langsomt tikker uret. Tik..Tak..Tik..Tak. Det er nærmest klokken 5 om morgenen. Der er ikke så mange mennesker i byen til dette tidspunkt. En ung mand står ved skinnerne på Københavns hovedbanegård. Han går frem og tilbage på perronen. Han har ventet her det sidste halv time. Der kommer toget. Endeligt. Han står på. Nervøs kigger han omkring sig. Han aner ikke, hvorhen han må sidde. Mens han går igennem vognene, kigger andre mennesker på ham. Nogle kigger nervøse, andre ser bare trætte ud.Til sidst finder han en plads ved siden af en ung pige. „Velkommen i Intercitytoget mod Århus“, siger en stemme. Amirs hjerte banker. Han ryster lidt på kroppen. Han kan ikke lide at tage toget. Sidste gang blev han stoppet ved grænsen i Padborg. Amir kommer fra Syrien og er flygtet til Danmark sidste sommer. Han ...