Open in app
Home
Notifications
Lists
Stories

Write
Prinses Liselot
Prinses Liselot

Home

Pinned

The Girl with The Shotgun.

As I walked down the stairs into the damp, musty air, I heard the shrieks the metro makes on its tracks. I jumped down the last step and sprinted into the replica of a blue space shuttle. The day I learn to be on time isn’t near, but my lungs…

2 min read


Pinned

My Baby Blue Sweater

I can feel the loud banging of the bass through every fibre of my body. The sharp screams of girls reuniting after being apart for two hours reaches my ears. I expect my voice to reach the same frequency as soon as they are in sight. With every beat of…

3 min read


Pinned

The Light in Her Eyes.

Today, the lights of the city don’t inspire her. They usually do; their colours and flickering in conversation with her own light. Not today, her light is dim. The lights are asking for her attention, but she has nothing to give. She is sitting on the tacky blue seats of…

8 min read


Jun 23

8 mei 2022

verliefd zijn. mijn hoofd past precies in dat stukje tussen je schouder en je borst. ik hoor je hart bonzen en je stem galmen als je praat. je bent zo dichtbij, maar het is nog niet genoeg. huid op huid, lippen op lippen en vingers verstrengeld, precies zoals het hoort…

2 min read


Jun 23

That Doomed Spring Afternoon.

As I watched the dreadful conversation unfold on WhatsApp, I started reminiscing about the friendship. I always heard people talk about distance and ‘give me time and space to think’, but I had never completely understood why. Until then. I tried to not forget that it used to be fun…

3 min read


Jun 23

“I dissent.”

A little over a year ago, one of my biggest inspirations was taken out by cancer. On 18 September of last year, Ruth Bader Ginsburg died at the age of 87. At the start of my studies at university, I was quite clueless as to what I wanted to do…

2 min read


Feb 7

12 maart

Er rollen druppels over mijn gezicht. Voor de zoveelste keer deze week. Het is ook wel regenachtig, maar ik kom niet buiten. Regen kan het niet zijn. Een jaar geleden. De pijn is vandaag een jaar geleden begonnen. De fysieke, de messteken in mijn longen en de ademnood. Maar ook…

2 min read


Feb 7

psyche

Je bent ooit tot leven geroepen door zachte stemmen. Stemmen die overschreeuwd werden door mijn stem. Overschreeuwen heeft een negatieve connotatie, maar zo bedoelde ze het niet. Ik voelde wat ik voelde, en dat sprak zij uit, zonder remmen. Tot papa zei: “doe niet zo fel”. Het was een kracht…

2 min read


Feb 7

The Night at The Orange Bar.

Mom, you there? Hi, yeah. What’s going on? It’s four in the morning, Polly. Mom. Polly? I can’t talk. Try to breathe. I can’t, sorry. Don’t say sorry, calm down. What happened? I don’t know where to start. I’m scared. Where are you? We’re still down at the port. …

2 min read


Feb 7

Her Golden Gate.

Hey, I put some new shoes on And suddenly everything is right She looked out the window as her brothers screamed along to the usual. Every time they left for a weekend at the beach, they played the same goddamn playlist. So, when traffic didn’t mess with the timing, the…

2 min read

Prinses Liselot

Prinses Liselot

Help

Status

Writers

Blog

Careers

Privacy

Terms

About

Knowable