THE ANSWER HERE IT IS!
writing in white is easier instead of speaking
because none of the words are real
consider a new use of margins

reliving reliving eight-teen and none of the snow hopefully
and none of the cold blue blue please makes me sad

IN MY HEAD EVERYTHING IN ARROWS AND ALWAYS
POINTING AT HEADS HEADS THUNK

HAPPY me in a supersonic spacious ship landed on earth really here
like really really here with my thoughts as roots around feet
stupid thoughts make me trip and fall my
hands scratched open and i scratch my arms open as well
nice old habit

stranger do you remain home cosily cosily do not trash yourself
do not log in your fingernail tips

so i can air myself in minus four and
think think think about paste paste paste

SOME REVELATIONS WHEN READING FLAUBERT:
-fantasy world is unsafe and real real world is fake and harm
-cry over made up situation every day
-IS THAT AN HYPOTHESIS?
-YES you are dumb and smart at the same time
-mostly: I AM SUPERIOR LIKE A BIG IDIOT

good friends
mere acquaintances like romanticising devoid of hope and despising with determination in one split second
...

Feast!
Death and Disaster!
Call in the mothers and fathers, my youth owns the streets!

After all that reminiscing about Friday,
I broke my computer,
I lay in bed,
Bleeding heavily,
Hysterically laughing,
Everything is fine.

it took me over a month to
crack the puzzle
now i am rolling backwards i am
stone dead flung over you

things are just as they always were

i try to crack my teeth on frozen fruit
strawberries cranberries raspberry the red juices flowing
into my neck cold and numb i want to be
bitten
i used to put my head into the freezer
power food
i cannot keep myself from flowing

I HELD MY BREATH UNTIL I WAS IN
AN EXCRUTIATING PAIN AND I
REALIZED I COULD NEVER
SUFFOCATE MYSELF
THE WAY I SUFFOCATE OTHERS

then i went to our place
screamed my lungs out
then i went home
and that was death

i think the first step will be to realise
that i will never understand myself among others

then i went to our place
smashed all the plates i could find
then i woke up
i was in my own kitchen

I WILL BE LEFT WITH SINGLE WORDS ONLY:

funky
mistress
petulant
asylum

i refuse i refuse
for even Allen Ginsberg is ghosting me tonight:
"crying my husband's gone my boyfriend's busted forever my
poetry was rejected
won't you come over for money and please won't you write
me a piece of *******
How are you dear can you come to Easthampton we're all
here bathing in the ocean we're all so lonely"
i am a cigarette once again
and i don't even know what strolling is anymore i am
pounding through life and life
is pounding through me we have
this love hate relationship you know
in the salon of life i am
standing on a cross-road of very well known people and
i am heaving here i am
with all my ******* toothpaste
there are all these young knights who think they can
handle me; euphemisms of me handling myself there
is something about humans being memories that act out
i cross some roads in myself and smoke heavy
(i touch our odyssey and dream of the supermarket, Allen Ginsberg,
i do not know where to go anymore)

all my days are laid out in front of me in lines of flight
all my days are lightly dispersed in front of me
i have my time laid out in tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow
and where is my time today

i have my time in the ten hours of light in december
i have my time in the sunset of four in the afternoon

there is time in the pages i read printed made physical so i can underline
the time hidden


an organisation of all manifestations of selves
monotonous block of differentiation
all just supply and all relation
princess, subject, mother, daughter, are things forgot
for every woman alone thinks she has got
to be a phoenix, and that then can be
none of that kind, of which she is, but she

what is awake are the children on the streets striking
lightning and smoke
everything exists but consumed by smoke and confusion and
drooping eyes looking futuring

there is no health; physicians say that we
at best enjoy but a neutrality
and can there be worse sickness than to know
that we are never well, nor can be so?
we are born ruinous: poor mothers cry
that children come not right, nor orderly
except they headlong come and fall upon
an ominous precipitation

in exactly two days i will have an aneurysm
for now i have taken flight in
between the wall and my wooden bedframe
if i squeeze myself a little
deeper it almost feels like an embrace
i am in too terribly deep
a full moon
everything has come full moon
it is the addiction talking
about this great concern for me
how i kind of still fit in another life
if someone would build a wall between my house and their
backyard then buried
me in the cellar at the neighbours
how i kind of still fit in another life
this great concern for me
if i am coping
if i am over it because it is
over and that needs to be repeated for educational purposes
IT IS OVER
for educational purposes scientific studies perhaps
stop massaging my brain it feels
relaxing but afterwards i cannot tell where i stand
what i want if left is a
nice colour and if i should go
outside tomorrow buy razors or
bottled water or branches stained with blood if i should use real or
fake blood if i should take pictures
am i a colony or a crown
dependency i wish i was queen
WHEN I LOOK DOWN I CANNOT
SEE MY OWN FACE
i carry gemstones in my pockets always
to compensate

to scorpios all days are multitudes
so long a one-man-feast

it's all good it's all good it's all good i
am driving too far and too fast
it's alright it's alright it's all true everything you say is true even the lies are true insofar as
they incapsulate your face
a chair a back stand to community a hooray for individuals and duels

it is really good to know me truly
like something ethereal; that escapes quickly

divine pleasure
i can season to you every
and push me pull you
slurping stupid purple brain worms
they crawl next to dead spider carcasses
god shoots the food i don't blame anyone

thank you for the soap on my plates
thank you for the soap on my plates
i am retracing my origins
no one
please follow me

i imagine a soft picture
and lay down on that sweet pillow
this could be a woman and this could be a man
or this could be a woman and a woman
or this could be a man and man
or they could be nothing
keep walking further from home
with the city resounding in their ears

they might be nearly untouching
not knowing what lies ahead of their feet
in the winter eve and at the halt of nature

or they might be one person
that does not know how completeness manifests itself
instead looks for muchness

thank you for the stumbling in my living room
thank you for the stumbling in my living room
next time i will travel a lot further
cold water the feelings warm on my wrist

whether the shells of the earth
yawn and lay down their arms over-through-around
each other i do not know
or the connectedness
all the houses all lit up
and the network stretches all
over the earth's shells
i do know myself in shells
myself though fully wired
on the level-online most
of the time
i sense a disconnection in
myself never fully satisfied
spacing between breaths eyes all tones of brown hair
(why do they all have brown hair?)
clicking my tongue in mouths
left on read entering reality in a manic-hyper-way type of way
often i do not know what of
myself is real beats away
for whom lowered tired legs on bed frames
from walking days lays down in company

i think i got pleasured today
though i'm not too sure
all the days are blending into
multitudes-lists; detailed studies of
colours jump-cuts freeze-frames
names of people whose lives i
should know about
and their works

i'm pretty sure i smoked today
and i will do it again
fulfil myself
as an existentialist
for her it is about laying down on the ground
but the meaning is different to me
i must take off and be free

you are now responsive you are now here you are running and
i understand
i am running too though i don't know what from
can't seem to sense my
enemy, should there be one he must be like the moon
am i like the moon do i even understand
what that means have i not fallen upwards have i not
hit my head on the moon or
the ceiling
hard to tell when the eyes they flee from me
am i not transparant am i not marvelling am i not
alone should i not see alone
i am attached to you like an anchor i have flushed
the water over my head and flushed away in me
whatever understood that situations
like this might be unique i
crumble your candy between my fingers and moan
i am a raven pull my belt tighter around my waist and fall
of the roof the ants are running
my fingers the driveways the spider
is laughing in a corner my wrists are painted
red i am in a bunk bed can only reach you through copper wires
tomorrow i'll run to the city

you are my
poison my
little poison
i gave myself
an amputated
lover
for christmas
unleash me
into a hell where
i am all alone and
cold all my limbs
cracked and crumbling
a withered little
animal
unable to speak or stand
up or even open my
eyes murmuring
that the black at the
back of
my eyelids is just
as unrecognisable as
everything beyond

and she is skinny like a deer so she can find the holes in my heart and set foot in them it is winter again
and you bend forward so much more from where i can see you
it is the slowest kind of pain
that you clean your blackest dishes with

THE WHOLE HOUSE OF THE AIR AND THE WATER IS FILTHY
I WILL TAKE THE ROOF AND SPLIT YOU THROUGH IT YOU JUST WATCH OUT YOU JUST WATCH OUT

i mean i HAVE TO GET DESTROYED SOMEHOW i will never have been happier then
me eating your teeth in bed (i will **** you in bed)
you being a mirror towards eternity (in a film that cools down)
you cool down towards the end it is winter again

Marai whispered that towards the end I will remember the beginning powerfully and clearly again
right now i am puzzling the stars pulling energetic lemons into my mouth so i can make strange faces and slap and laugh

mankind in sleeves so atypical it is winter again
it is too cold to be honest to myself
not cold enough to drag myself through that death-chamber
i am crawling towards something else
something so completely devoid of coming home and dinner i
will only have to stretch one finger-punch to touch ice

i have shown you where i am torn
do you believe me are you opened yet because i want
to look at you even when you are not here
are you opened yet because i realm to you
have fallen in you it sounds like an ode but it is not

inside is cold when you live together
nothing misses the house seems overflowing inside
is cold the temperature does not know
where to go what
is right now

i take this seriously like a sugar cane it is
always about the same stuff we take this seriously like sugar canes
spoons over our eyes you taste sweet and we put fat lines and
dots on the walls of the house the lines on my arms are
filled with sugar paste

can we build on it?
for now i have been simply purling
and stones around me green and smooth tell me
the water would have been ankle-deep
if i lifted my head out of these
ankle-deep waves i could
take a clearer guess
how i am actually feeling all accreted
to the riverbed
but can we build on it?
is this rock really steadfast because
i feel in these waters i need more stones
and build a dam to stop all of the
gushing or i might be
on the other side of the dam
slowly drowning myself while
i build

you can see them
you can see them
the nails they pin everything to
the wall next to my bed
father and child unlooking
i am misery and blurry hands and fingered
hands
and woman with mask
woman with lips ****** off
man with hat

brain imploded
when i lie in bed i feel like shaking and like i might survive
another three days

and half blue woman
bird fed by woman's tears
everything next to my bed is woman's
and tears's and slippery what's really happening
dead fireworks of two dates

the old acid buy me more tides
i am led by the waves and they push me aside
complain that it is not enough

i can keep on coming forever
i can twirl
put my head on while hands and
slip away slowly
a course of history
in which i am ever arriving
nine times complete circles on a
seabed of trick trick
brim stick
wide stick
stick stick to me wisely

the words miserable and memorable are too much alike
as in an empty letter
that does not fit any of the categories we know of
i do not hear much anymore with the knowledge that
i have buried my left ear deep into the pillow
it seems to help a bit

my throat seems a bit blackened in the back as
peppered people will not dare to admit
there is something to say for hanging out of a window that
looks out on the cats of the neighbours downstairs

as peppered people will not dare to admit there
is something to say for sleeping with no intervals on
some levels this is a normal morning i
do not eat meat anymore no one offers to do the dishes
for me i watch while you eat and break what remains of yesterday
down the middle

and then i imagine we
are laying together on the bed
that is the universe
the streets feel softer
i have found some feathers
in my armpit and we are
all angels we jump we
jump we can see how we
bow to each other

THROW IN AT DEEP END I
I if flame unattainable
I love flames feel inner softly
some breath sometimes in me
me falls me falls me falls
"excursion: left cardiac valve"
right here, I unafraid great mount
remember amount and to me freedom
shown scream stick to me
and why people sleep only
shadows here is burn my room

THROW IN AT DEEP END II
the waves break upwards: Sisyphus
the waves break downwards: my chest
the time breaks upwards and my
eyes follow the fall, I admit I fall

THROW IN AT DEEP END III
you might be space major and shall
we build each other's closeness and you have
so many hands that I am a bouquet
of lines, a visual thump, a
one-man-party, a red apparition
a study in Red, a song of whisper, a
blue card on white wall we forget I am a
tourist

how have there been nights creating space
a vault of valued silver neck---lace play button play to me
toy tutorial: how to choke me and it is hours after midnight
i am alone in my room uncloaked my pictures upon tiny tiny windows i like to lick the blood out of the slits
grow slimes after midnight like a snail click click the right things and sadden

can i sink my fangs and hydrated as it is
a wet house all of the wallpaper ruined of bottles and of men
i hate that feeling when i put my head down and that is the last thing there is nothing nothing no struggle no bodies and legs
all anger aside i must admit
me all nails and fury me all small fit below the waist die gaily then

has anyone read anything on free will or has anyone stayed or left or has anyone survived can i lend out my own copy of free will two pages high look up the line across my back have you tried to follow me before foresting in motion
**** me in my feelings i have been begging the new moon for a new moon but IT HAS NEVER APPEARED BEFORE ME

IS THERE ANYONE I CAN HIGHLIGHT IN PURPLE AND OR IS THERE ANYONE I CAN PUT MY BACK AGAINST WHO IS WILLING TO LAY A FINGER ON ME

AND I FEEL BETRAYED should i always be banned
me me in shadows i am aware i have gotten dark i have not given permission for deep-rope-denied-roulette-gratuit-whir-phantasma

EVERYONE ON THIS SLUMP STAGE IS HIDING THEIR FINGERS IN MY MOUTH ONE TO ONE TO ONE I CAN NEVER SEE THE FACE THE FACE HURTS TOO MUCH IT IS THE RED FILTER THE EXPENSIVE ONE AND I CANNOT USE TOO MUCH OF IT IT FALLS BEFORE ME I BREAK MY KNEE-CAPS THANK YOU THANK YOU IT WAS WONDERFUL

my name is ssssss-sweetness all of a sudden
i stand before you and i am so mad i want to break your face-jaw neck-jaw your everything-jaw my name is pinky pinky and mutilation is satiric and narcissistic GO BECOME SICK OF IT AND I WILL SICK AND **** YOU AND THE HINT IS IT WILL CHANGE NOW THE SMELL IS AWAITED and the blood will be beautiful

and will be replenishing i give me another three months do you like my invention please jealous you until you open again
the demon does not possess me and does not wish to thus i received
in a letter from hell thank you thank you it was miserably ethereal

there we were
we were just like water so close
me perhaps being a bit brusque
correction: crashing unto you
you soft flowing
you still taking me in asking for a sip
we were so thirsty both of us dry
our little rain kingdom in a month
changed became a desert barren

i am sorry for wanting all different streams
me being queen oceaan
all the different streams to come out
near me i still want you near me
i am sorry for not knowing how
and i see your water running deep low foundation
warning: he has sudden currents inside

not sure if i want to swim against
still i do know about dipping the tip of my fingers
i want to hear you clattering when i sleep being safe

sometimes i wish it were true that
i live inside a renaissance painting i would
be stoic and not
overwhelm people with all of this shakespearean *******
in which no one even dares to be themselves there is
irony on so many levels of the flat i praise myself
a Professional Industrial
i deform time around me i wrap time around me
and parade through some levels some memories and
dream of others's memories and do they ever
crumble away have they ever lain parallel to mine
you are here and you are here
not i am almost transparant

Strange friend, past, present, and to be;
Loved deeplier, darklier understood;
Behold I dream a dream of good;
And mingle all the world with thee;

THAT NIGHT WAS
A FRAIL ANIMAL
LIGHT BULB IN THE BACK OF HER HEAD
A LITTLE SQUEAMISH
AND IN THE PROCESS OF FALLING

ALWAYS THE FALLING
SHE ALLOWS THE RED FLAMES TO LICK HER
AND NEVER GETTING UP ON TIME
SHE SQUEEZES A TUBE OF PAINT
AND COMMENCES HER RITUAL

BLACK ANTS OCCUPY THE KITCHEN
WITH WHICH SHE FILLS HER STOMACH
SOMEONE WANTS TO COME IN
TAKE HER ARMS SOME PLACE HIGH AND DRY
THEY WERE PAINTED RED FIVE THICK COATS

1.black lipstick
2.see-through dress
3.rosemary, strand
4.tap water+tired eyes
6.pain, stomach

this is not spread out on my skin
this is a foreign object in my house this
is not idle perplexuation this is

stomping grounds metal clinging
clans this is not idolatry this is
not the truth but i but us this is hurricane
horizontal but i but us we are quite
a bit but i but us

something so bright and supernova in
you i must bury my snout in

clamouring for hyperreality like a
shield like a mirror i hold out to
everyone in which i see myself so that i no
longer have to be there
can transgress as an entire cloak-from

when did the smoke leave your palms

i draw little shapes on your back and you mimic them on mine, shall we do it like that? you turn me around robot-like: so you want to understand me you just see what you want to see there is no way i can help you out you do not know what it is all about; i give myself a call but i am not home when will i go home? i winter to you -they say, i hear, that life is the only place to resort to; i am here and there in scraps of others and of myself and i sow everything together that i am able to get. we fly like two birds who are illuminated from down under by a glow; the afternoonsun, a nearly-red and the spiders at my feet keep on scaring me and i keep on looking whether they are really there or are merely apparitions and you kiss my feet and everything is solved. come under my wings little bird i swear there is nothing up my sleeve and then we love; our treacherousness; as raw as meat can become, our flight from everything is vertically upwards.

longing for pink

My mind is a bathtub
Quickly fill up
Momentarily do not look
then clean up the Chaos
she has spilled herself Again
a pity that her surroundings
were Completely unadjusted and
She does not think anymore before doing
she Surrenders

your thought

Now the sea is deepening
so Are my thoughts
i was hoping for a quick recovery but
have to accept
i cannot cope with this

some wound

Please let the neighbourhood know
Again what kind of child
lives among Shells and skeletons
near an imaginary Beach
where another sea waves to itself
and calls For her mother

but i love that drowning
i step out of the shower and feel as if
i could never be absolutely clean
complete skin removal might do me justice
i would have to become a shade of myself
as would be the ashes of a fire
swatched on my upper arm that i will
always burn some way or other
that i am marked but my whole life is
grey and i choose high and low so often
that i feel like i am venturing on a median wave
never knowing what my destiny is

soon i will be nineteen and
we will celebrate my slow decay and everyone
will laugh at me but to me it is all very real
that it is a criminal offence the amount
of times i say goodbye and hello again
that my hair loops but never when i want it to
always when i want it to be downwards
that i sell conversations and flats on sundays
and my nails on every other day
i try to scratch every vulture i meet
breadth of two meters it is stretched from pillow on my bed to beak in my appendix
breath of ten seconds and then i shed my skin
completely take possession of the vulture’s body
it is me who is flying

vision serpent
i might be liquid now and frozen tomorrow or
that might never happen global warming
curdles in my stomach i tried to throw up
but my body does not trust me like it used to
i am glue now somewhere
in between Sisyphus’ rock and Narcissus’ puddle
neither solid and sweeping
nor soft standing still
i look into a crystal ball and see myself
i drink loose tea and the leaves are like my limbs always sinking
i read my tarot and keep a careful eye on the stars and avoid dark nights and being alone and it is always me like a little lucifer carrying inferno online like an application
******* obligation
only some god shoots the food right
in front of his eyes

so drop me
spit me
taste me trench-like
tear away at the restraints
they call the borders
devour the borders

apostel
do not feed me insulation
parade thee wide piped

rain-dropped down locks
in window reflection
functionally i become fur
keep thee warm

she sees she sees
she statutes stoically

every day i pass the same
**** statue
of a cat
licking her paw

she sees she sees
she knows endurance

everything pink forever please
put your hat on it will make no
difference in me that is now
unsigned of long fingernails and
curly shawl driving through the axis
of your eyes in a sixties suburbia

in me that is now uncoloured curly
smile i twist my thoughts in
paraphernalia that they might fit a
life fathomable by authority i sit
knee deep between surfacing
sheets i want erasure posture
means darkness my spleen
disagrees each morning
body-thoughts and you-suit

i sat on the edge of a rectangular
ear my feet the teeth to bite white
nights to whisper how self-lies and
love hands me nothing but life and
a weak notion that nothing of more
than a bleak scarcity is coming
written on my skinny toes

how do i walk laterally
you raise your head and tail
coincidentally like a skunk is always
perhaps faded like you are always
howling for yourself pitiable
madman how the world is a tragedy
unlike thee how do i stop thinking i
am going to die

the peaks of my purple life:
i am reading all of my friends
I SCREEN
i need to fall head forwards and
we are never alone anymore

ADDRESS ME
i am half covered like a geiser
fuming but we'll be able to make out

some form or shape
i am very half covered
a careful mix of red and blue

my thighs available
i return my forgivings at night
nothing counts at night the laws
of life tongue my feet and i
do not trust my second language
for a second

i cannot be undrawn to you
very well understand that i am not
enough malleable to qualify as
co-operative

i often have to search not long but
very hard to find a little integrity left
in my body
and when i wake up i am completely confused because
evening and morning are two loose ends of
the same black hole

every night i lose the feeling in my legs
washed up jelly legs
every morning i wake up all solidified
it takes me over five hours to seal my sheets

"under trees which are still bravely
competing against autumn"
there, i stole your sentence
what's it going to be then, eh?

****** anarchist
we live in a power house greater than this world
i crawl through a hidden door in the attic
little metal plate on my chest
two lightning chambers powered by dark energy
walls dripping smell
of fresh herbs

the window a post for reminiscing
restoration hour

i just saw a feather fall from out of nowhere but i
cannot be deceived anymore
i take in everything through salt circles
i always let my sentiments float
open the box at the wrong end i want to
grab a hold of them and
smash them against the wall i do not like
Pandora anymore

my limbs blank limbs blank
i cannot feel how i am leaning over
dotted lines i am consumerism
scared eagerly not falling but simply icing another
dimension having dinner regularly
doing everything completely right
helpfully fully conscious rambling of the wall
black flies fingernail tinted dumb
at the height of a crap-seated liquorice fashion

and Thom Yorke politely knocks on my ribcage
Are You Okay: No
then he sings I will eat you alive I will eat you alive I will eat you alive I will eat you alive
when you sigh again i can see your breath like an ice cloud it's
because you are cold from the inside it's
because some radiator is stuck in there obviously
even when i see you walking
your limbs are somehow frozen

na na no
i am NOT walking through emotions
i am simply STROLLING
LIGHTLY treading this path
feet muddy little bit ******

there is this mountain
HUGE pile of these strange feelings
how am i
how am i miles away all suddenly all now?

i am combustible
i am HIGHLY flammable
do not light me
do NOT light me
i will make you SICK

last night i broke my stone plate you brought the glue
as usual i was the one to lash out
how do you deal with that in your own home
all glueless perhaps a little cracked now

you kept showing me your hands
how they created my stone chest even
before i knew you it must be that you created
me; i just fit perfectly in your palms

you kept showing me your hands
i had to objectify; then confessed my visions
me being a stone bird (somehow weightless)
sailing over all material things
they don't appeal to me anymore
even my body seems too real too harsh
i dare to look at myself in soft focus only

in my visions i am an all-alone-stone all
surrounded by your hands
last night the bird has shed her wings to
reveal she was a bat all along
a female Dracula she bends over
***** the stone cold blood out of her self-slits

i try to wake up now and then
in my visions my body is off
way worse my scars are on my knees instead
of my wrists and it is true i have
fallen down so many times

i think about the moon on my back sizzling
how i carry it dot by dot the whole
weight how my parents should never see
what i am up to or how i do not feel
real here nor there last night i have been
envisioned; i surrender

whether it matters anymore to look to look
to count who of us is fuller of night does  
sensibility disappear every time it appears

i have been called upon more than once and understand
that the most poignant statues of Pygmalion are
built on misery and

how much more can my feet disappear in insomnia
through my imagination's door a myriad of beautiful things are hidden that make me cry i am so touched

how much distance is needed between
three decaf days to
still feel it feel it

i decapitate my presence
my existence leads its own life: with a curious
personality a somehow experiencing courtesy

ergo my inner landscape: conversations between an
infinite essayist and a
grounded grounded devilish being

i categorise everything like
the sound of nails and crystal chalice and angel voices stray in a
circle of dirt and head on my chest

good morning to all in your lines
lick your fingers clean fiercely let me
remark something of desiring value:

how are those nests you all hold high above your heads
i can see handfuls of spider webs
i sit nailed into a wall

attention-wise i am on the soft-spoken spectrum
reel the volume in i mean press me
you like the soft-spoken don’t you
somehow i am light-headed in march and what you say
kind of message is that
i like good girls
come on

i whistle along to the architectural tone of your everlasting
messages and i
whistle along to your unfitting jazz
i like your unfitting jazz
like jeans i never wear jeans
you never wear me out i am never tired in your company

buy me press me i will dance
mostly jump though in your eyes i still see your angry eyes
a shrine a bed a jumprope for falling and standing
completely naked
in a hot pink at-fault-bathtub
soap me press me so we never have to freak out anymore
bathe me press me so we always say i like you so much
i miss you so much in 24 hours
press me press me i am only at a short distance

i will just do my evening walk
it has become kind of a routine
every time something releases itself
from my city-clogged skin
it wants to be free
and is soluble i can see
it drifting in the air
i wonder what i am losing

THERE STILL IS NOTHING GUILTY
TO BE SAID ABOUT YOU
BITE ME HARDER THEN
THERE ARE TWO MOONS TUMBLING
I AM ALWAYS TOO MUCH
I RETURN TO THE FROZEN LAKE
BEFORE WHICH I LEARNT TO BE LIKE A PAINTING
AND EVERYTHING IS QUIET
HERE IT IS AGAIN
THE NIGHT IS OVERWHELMING
LET US TEAR IT APART IN UNISON
OTHERWISE WE WILL DROWN

do not forget me
as i trickle into your skin
funnel babe
trying to slightly breathe again darkwards we move

(undercover king
under covers will be paradise and
inferno
a wasteland of blankets and spit)

cut off my fingertips and i'll remain Other
and i'll somehow Stain you

and i hold on to the tension
spread it out butter on bread
strange breed that is all there is to say about it

the amount of people who
walk on bare feet i
cannot believe the
fragility in the streets

me: with nausea and extra cover
you: starting and pinning and purring and running
we: twosome group of always more cannibalism

animals and cages we
change constantly

a maybe-core

you lick the inside of your cheek
it is warmer in there and
softer and pink secretly
without you having to admit to anyone
which wound you have picked at again

that you do not want to listen to acoustic anymore because
that too is too sweet
you understand the sign of the times
clocked in the ears until
they bleed

and letting go of hands does not hurt
it is cold this time of
year that is why you lick the inside of your
cheek
only the
stretching of the muscles

it is normal to
cool off your head
in the freezing northern breeze
a brisk walk or it is normal
to warm up your red ears
on the stove

like a flavourful dish
and never talk in any case
during family diner
fists hooked behind the back
about what is banging inside

it's enough to just guard the frail
borders of our relationship
it's a dress spread out i'm sewing
even before it's falling apart
because i feel like it
the fabric is soft and smells like you
i want to sleep in it

for three weeks i have been inarticulate

About leaving she wrote
I see you more clearly now
Though you spew boiling oil aimed for my lips
You spew that I should not talk in difficulties
I get it: things are like other things
You get it: you'll talk to me when it starts raining again

About remind me she wrote
If she could file herself safely
In between two maps she would
What to do with all this confusion and heartache
In love would not have to think twice
He was not in my map anyway

Do not send me away
Do not send me away
Let me at least peer through half-closed lids

i woke up all solidified and my eyes strong
fixated on Matthyon you are grotesque dream
alike rosé cheeks the sour cream kind
dusted with finger prints we parade
in cities sick in dust cities in
parchment we remain fragile
they get fingered

i had to ask for Matthyon's
name your spelt-out request you
came to me held a finger up for
every letter carefully, mysteriously
my new alphabet

Matthyon we fought each other for bread
in white rooms i dusted my cheeks with
yeast; saw you bore the mark
drawn on pages the male curiosity in dust
makes me cough
the pride i have slumbers

you waved and smiled with rosé fever
Matthyon alluding to how my dreams may express feelings and love
how the question was cut out of my flesh
i want this to be well done

Matthyon the clouds do not often agree on the psyche of the human being
untransparant down there
it slips through their fingers; blood stains appear in the sky
on those evenings only

and i'm finding part of it
in the pages of parchment bibles
make me dust off my puffed
embarrassed cheekbones
i look up
i split meat from bone
i want this to be well done

noodles is for distant
people)
the plant; which milked
on me
or might be my spit

(it was

have to clean off the
clouds
sky looks a bit damp
on me two
legs are undergoing

love-

your small mushroom
alone
in a delicious room
layered
this is the neo-frontier

spread out your mouth
spit the streets
the tongue a tracking device
carry me now bed-like
four legged somewhere in a
corner and your entire
body weight planted over me
and do not heat spinach in the microwave
the iron will grow eyes
my back has grown at least three
eyes and my thighs are a compliment
i slit myself no mercy
novelty for free
paper of five and half a kilometer
i sleep near sudoku
while you learn foreign affairs by heart
and i am not choosing a theme and i
am still a thief stole your inner knee
am somewhere ******* myself
paint my face
paint my face
paint my face an axe at my ears
my blood a poem
hello who is this i cannot hear you
i cannot comprehend you too well
i fold dead corners like Frankenstein
it is October and five and twenty degrees and
the summer love still not over
and i wind down the wind it will be alright
turn away lurid child the things around here
they just are and
no one that pays attention to them

i like how he lives in a room full of himself
that is probably what connects him to the other
young knights
-his obsession with himself
i like how he frosted passion onto his glasses when
i gave him one lick of my sugar glazed eyes
enlarged wine gulped down ready to leave all
he sees when he looks at me anymore is how
passionate i am how passionate i am
(Red i am Sorry)
i like how i've so honestly opened up all kinds of
juice for him to drink up i like how i cry
every night
for
another knight i like how i'm caring for myself by
destroying clean fingers yellow teeth black ink white pants all sorts
of wine in fact i'm scarring myself
i think it's strange how i always have to
stretch my legs out to feel anything
hands around myself every night i'm
laying like a vessel opening myself up there
must be some link to soil, and floored, and fortress

no these spiders are not native to Belgium but
they will crawl inside my mind and make me into some
horrible monster i am always very loud you must
hear me screaming from the other side of the
nebula you are transforming all other brown-haired boys and
trust me there are a lot of brown-haired boys and they're
all you when they come close they can tell
i've betrayed myself

oh he's in pain too
oh he's in pain too
oh he's in pain too
oh he's in pain too
no it's a different kind of pain he
dragged his camper seat all the way to the royal yard
to court all the girls and now
he sits on his little camper seat and is satisfied,
he sits; he is free
oh here's that list of new wave movies if i could speak french i
would recite them in my room throwing a plate at the wall for every word oh here's a Departure i need words, letters, spaces
only will not do
everything is red everything is perishing my shoes split in half, as did my chest
i don't know what to have for breakfast and i'm practising a pool of blood Myles said that hands are from the same family as feelings
that he didn't know where to put them
tomorrow i'm leaving for Mars ground control urged me to strap myself in tightly but i'm not sure i'll be able to hang on perhaps
i want to float; am actively looking for it

paint the walls
paint the walls
paint the walls
i stand my back against
paint the walls

i point
i move
this is persevering in spite of absurdity
pointing
i move to another wall

this is a painting for some meaning some feeling
fell against a wall
back against a wall

i am a human machine
paint the walls
let me not hear the white walls no more
i am a human machine

i play and my own feet **** in my toes i am little
little funny crawler sheets and heavy ornamental thoughts
and breaths
i am and become and have completely absorbed off-likened thorough maddened let me go and fattened unleashment like a hound

on account of lately i want more and
longer nights make me lady of looniness
loneliness written on my left breast on the back of my left ribs terrifying thoughts and wounds and far from the eye
unsatisfied crinkling

of streaming and forward i know nothing my back against
my hopes i will sieve the honey yet keep nothing my tongue retracting into my mouth only silence not oracle

red and black an emblem for apples and craters poison and mindstream paraphernalia and household women on shores women in dresses
and in piles my own two infinite desires

it was partly due to a period of rainy
weather and partly due to a sudden longing for
the older one
of those two
gripped by that sudden longing
the houses
were stuffed
no period of rain
could have been read

on the first beautiful day
together and comfortable
done
convinced, happy if he knew
all that i read truly
that i still have to read more
all those wet days he would really be happy
if he knew

the mystery of a blue
voice raised
i feel the same, rational
altogether too blustering
fór you because
i was wearing it

lowered, the whole smelled of desolate
loneliness. in dreams, for a while, they kept
hanging over the fence, but it's less fun to hang
over it when there's no one to send you away
anymore. So i keep on
walking

"i wonder where he went" red being
Meditative
of course he killed of course he poisoned and beat
and shot

"poor old Scrag"

he had no trouble catching her because
she couldn't run away
"but then why did Scrag ****** her"

"you think there is only one single reason to
****** someone" red being Stirred
if you had read all those books
mixture of red and I, you would know there are a
myriad of reasons to ****. i bet you Scrag
hid himself
the other found him
that
dreadful sound
kept him from sleeping: it made a hole in
Scrag

And then he found his Plan that
poison was
gardening wanted
to run away fast, remained dead and
buried

"done?" question of red
hoarse

"oh, there are so many ways you have"
careless also
buried i think that is how most people
end up

a sudden Plan -of course
and the interest
so he could
dig then bury then
get and then dig up
what he hid there. for weeks he had been
digging
he is really very clever i would never
weeks beforehand no
i would
and i tried to
hide him somewhere
a very clever man

taken
by his lips; inanimate; rather than
clinging on to the criminal
of his kind
"i wonder what he would say if you asked him"

Scrag, pensive
turned questions around
after all it would have been stupid
on occasion not to accept
running towards the future; catching with a
stern frown i will
begin. i will look very innocent
i will look
how they always do. only the brightest one looks innocent
do you remember the man in the Mystery
he couldn't stop himself from looking at his bed of roses
over and over again; there he buried his victim, he
Had to look at it. they noticed that

"i don't believe you should go
back it seems rather dangerous"
he could still keep his poison
close to him imagine
how dumb it would be to go back
that he is a killer

seriously
i don't believe people like him will **** twice
in a row. you can **** without
being clever but you cannot **** everyone
who passes by
What i mean is that almost everyone who meets someone new dies

cut open
dead
no mask, i have gotten a little reckless

past, though i would try again
i believe
he's probably too careful for that
At that time we had reached the fence
even more careful
that the
man nor syringe nor poison remained. at the time he was
tying roses he felt cheered on

"please come back"

a lack of tools
on a difficult occasion in his occupation

"excuse me"
excuse me for interrupting you
where the older one went

he Is

courage sinks in great confusion; on the
end of the road only panting disciples
might be better to be afraid of him
walking in a thoughtless maze
is great when you're afraid
it is easier to lose yourself

"after all of this, do you really think Scrag is on vacation"
of course not, he is on Deep Contempt