I am not sure whether
                            Agnetha is dyslexic
or Anni a palindromist.
                             There is no point in
asking Benny or Bjorn.
                        Chiquitita was unable
to tell them what’s wrong.
                    So, why is ABBA written
backwards in lipstick, on the
              mirror, between two kisses?

Hush now,
but don't you dare fall asleep.
Catch the marks on your ceiling
Tread upon by misshapen feet

and taking down my poems.
They wont be destroyed but im going to have them in a more private place. They may or may not resurface in the future. I'm not quitting. Just rebranding and doing things a little more by the book

This is the downfall
unlike any other
not like raindrops
It's the screaming
at the top of the lungs
till the veins pop
It's that asteroid burning
in the atmosphere
and then it'll be all black
There'll be ashfall
There'll be seared meat
toasted skin and charred wings
It's that Lucifer thing
A light streak descending
heading down to the ground
You can see the ending
Can't blame anyone
The gravity pulls
It's its nature
no mercy, no thinking
It's the downfall
It's the ending
The last curtain call
and the swan song
just sounds terrible
as the poor bird's throat
got twisted and slashed
Must've paid a lot
saw it in advance

I am scared of time passing,
of becoming my future self.
Not being able to distinguish her from my present self.

To eat alone
is to think
of another.

I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

Pale October blue
Brings an optimistic gloom
The dead before the bloom.

The grey before the green
The sleep before the dream
A melancholy scene.

Pale October blue
A peculiar pallid hue
Memories freeze in morning dew

A season for silence to grow
A place for peace to be sowed
A cold that quiets the soul

Pale October blue
Winters youthful engenue
Purgatory rolling slowly through

My cheek is chilled from its kiss
Standing lonely in its foggy mist
When summer comes I find I long for this

Like a love that's gone but deeply missed

Her eyes were fiery
While her lips peeled away
Her sun was setting
But her colors never fade
When she bites she is bitter
But when she smiles she is sweet
Like a nectarine emblem
She’s the fruit of life’s tree.

Early morning moon
In early morning sky
Golden blush
to welcome the sun
Welcome the day
Say goodbye
to enchanted night.


Shell✨🐚

He asked her what it's like living with anxiety.

She smiled sadly, "It's a never-ending pulse-race. Like knowing you don't want to jump off a cliff but not being able to talk yourself down from it.

Your fears take on a nebulous, unidentifiable form that tightens around your throat and incapacitates you.

There is no calm. No peace. Only the edge of a very strained thread."

I woke up from a nightmare
I could not stand to keep
to myself

you were stretched across the couch
coffee going cold on the table
a half finished cigarette
still burning

you wrapped me up
in kind words that
I could not bare
to hear

whispered into my ear
"one day we will go wandering
and this tiny house will overspill
with dreams'

you are not your memories, darling
you are not the bad things
that have been done to you
you are a fierce flame
that warms my heart

forget them, my love
they are nothing
and you, and you
are everything

Brain, brain go away
Don't want to listen one more day
Already lonely and afraid
Feel insecure and full of shame

Brain, brain don't act this way
You're always angry; Filled with hate
You know we're joined; Can't separate
Yourself your punching in the face

Brain, brain what can I say
To make it so you see things straight
Don't know how much more I can take
Of constant warring and debate

Brain, brain it's getting late
This journey's not some endless race
Life's flying by and at this pace
Forget a win; Not gonna place

Brain, brain let's medicate
I'll feed you drugs and we'll sedate
The only way to mitigate
Discrepancies we generate

Brain, brain we sadly waste
This outcome feels like it was fate
But never was there a sealed date
Fulfilling what we self-create

Brain, brain so much we faced
Success so close could almost taste
Instead our tail we always chased
We'll die alone sad and disgraced

I wonder if I really am kind hearted.
Most people think it’s true,
But maybe I’m just afraid of being mean-
Maybe I’m afraid of being you.

They said,
"The most beautiful art is
looking into someone's eyes
when they talk about the
things they love."
And I said,
"Or looking at someone you love.
Or maybe, just maybe,
by looking at the mirror
is the most beautiful art
anyone should appreciate."

She said "I'm falling in love."

I said "I'm falling apart."

I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.

no one loves me
but they claim they care
if they really did wouldn't they see

i am falling apart
fragile to the touch
yet they keep on pushing me

closer to the edge
and they think i can take more
so they push farther till i'm at the brink

it's like they know i can't swim
but they are going overboard
and they'll be suprised when i sink

I am slowly dissociating
On this plane of existence
To a seperate dimension
Exempt from realizations
And harshness of life

I am slowly dissociating
Becoming one with void
Finally being at my peace
Exempt from everything
The very sorrows of life

your name is
forbidden in
my mouth
or in my heart
because when
i think about
you;

i'll cry a little more,
hurt a little stronger
love a little softer
because you no longer
make me feel sober

i'm drunk on the
memory of you

The poet lives two lives.
One on the outside,
And one in their mind.

When you look in their eyes
You could see an abyss.

If you looked long enough
You could sink into it.

But most people don’t see it.

Take the time to read the words, though,
And you would know for sure.

The poet lives in two different worlds.

...the meadow and the puddle
you wouldn't come out of

wild and simple joy

invisable to eyes, now...

I wander the meadow grass

the fields where the flowers glow
in early morning
sunlight

the fields you
only dream of
where your soul is always free...

and you come running

spectral through the mist

I walk lonely fields

I wonder what it’s like
To be loved by someone
Romantically

I see people kiss in movies
And run my fingertips along my lips gently
Wondering what it’s like

I yearn for it
But don’t know how to go about it

lights flicker
in the distance
far far below

I’m here
looking down on it all
wrapped in a blanket
a book lies next to me
pages flipping themselves
in the cool summer breeze
inside are the sounds of life
outside are the sounds
of the questioning
the air is filled
with random notes
fluttering around me
like guardian angels
I know why they’re here

darkness
sat down
next to me
to keep me company
we look at the flickering lights
in the distance
he tells me
you’d do fine down there
if you wanted to
be a light
surrounded by light
but then he shifts his gaze
the moonlight
dancing through his being
but you’d do great
up there
be a light
where no one has dared to be
and with that
he left

You are
Just a little more
Than I understand.
Come down right now
And give me your hand.

we do not write poetry
we write mirrors
which are held up
to curious faces
who read
looking for their
own reflections