The Most Quiet One

old-letters-436501_1920The last one standing in the crowd.

The one who doesn’t like the music oh-so-loud.

The one who wishes, whispers, moves, and changes.

The one who breathes within and rearranges.

The one who gathers the crumbs and feeds the birds by the lake.

The one who never mistrusts or assumes.

The one who lets the bird out of its cage.

The one unafraid to suffer or pay the prices of living so boldly.

The one who hears the bells and climbs all the way up the stairs.

The one who is dancing in silence.

The one who knows you will hurt and he will be there.

The one who will gather you in your arms as if you are leaves.

The one who will transmit through your palms light beams…


I deserved the pain, God.

I deserved every single scratch and bruise, and loss.

I deserved it all.

Now I trust.





9999: The Finishing Line of Insecurity

people-2569545_1920I didn’t really know

if what I do will die or grow.

I only felt a gentle touch of higher realms,

much higher than the ones I know.

Then my insecurity became my base

and it turned it was,

a better base than those

who build their place regardless


of their Souls.

I kept and kept on going,

till I reached the summit.

I would climb

both with my feet and with my hands

only so that

I could

raise my Spirit.

All the obstacles ahead were blinking lights,

some of the writers that I met

(shhh, don’t tell!)

were all somehow

avoiding life…


But one day recently

I heard a voice that said:


Don’t you worry, my beloved

Nothing real in you could ever die.


All is transient, don’t worry.











Poetry of The Guest


I became a lover of my loneliness, 

a great frenemy to its existence.

And although

I was the one to build a home for it, 

I feel as if now

I am a victim of my guest.


Svetlina Trifonova



– Colors will enter because
you recognized the beauty of the blank canvas.

– But I wish to remain a blank canvas.
I don’t really need much of anything else anymore.

I have you – we are together,
in different spaces and times,
we are always together, my beloved.

I don’t need colors, let me be pure,
I am a white space.

I am beyond the colors,
I’ve lived in the Light
and swam through the darkness.
I am
beyond all poles of understanding.

Remember me this way.
Colored, on the outside.
Remember me this way
if you still haven’t seen
my colors on the inside.

But if you have,
then we can be friends.
Not friends for a couple of years.

Friends for Eternity,
friends even when I exit this place
and you remember my heart.

So, now…
You have this.


The first time I conquered
the deepest, darkest fears
and put them in the colors.

Remember me,
beyond form and matter,
I am a feeling.

A whim
of distant times,
of ancient times
when life was flowing,
when life was not a mascarade.

Love was pure to the core.
We were fire from the core.
We were liquid,
beauty had no form.
I remember.

I remember so well.

A thousand lives ago.
Until we became everything –
friends, lovers, warriors,
beautiful and broken…
after every single round.

We were mistreated, abandoned,
loved and forgotten.
In the darkest night,
nobody of our friends was around.

We flew through galaxies,
planets and stars,
our Love knew no limits.

Do you know how sad it is for me
to see you now?

The one who gave everything,
fell from all his grace, all his glory.

The one I loved became dark.

I hope, my friend
you start to repair yourself
and remember yourself.

I have never been your enemy
even when we were enemies.

I have always been and forever will be free.

One day,
when you decide to dismantle your prison,
you will know it too.
All colors will gather,
your Essence will begin to emerge.

Sleep tight, for now.
One day I will come back to ask again.

Are ready now, my eternal, beloved friend…

Svetlina Trifonova

Photography by Kristina Likova

Her website





Inside this hologram the world is,
where everything is real to your perception

you are afraid to be your own self,
you are blocked from any other option, any realization, any truth
because its Spectrum is much too vast to comprehend.

This is your tragic belief.
That the only gift you gave is the one remembered,
is the one remembered,
the one chronicled deeply into the one-sided tale history is.

That the only value is the one recognized, awarded and named heroic,
all-consumed under the expansion of the praise and glory.

…While everything around us is daring us to look
beyond the stream of mottoes, sayings, quotes
beyond the covers of materials, shapes, and forms.

31st of August, 2015

Svetlina Trifonova

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