At night when everything is dim and quiet an anxiety creeps in my skin
I do not know why but I always try to recall her voice when there is
silence
Maybe she will never leave me alone again yet I still try to remember her
We screamed together till my parents bled the words in the color of pure
madness
They could not hear her so they only had me to blame for the explosions
They locked me up at night while she tore me down till the last brick was
gone
Sleeping does not happen at night when she is muted and I am alone
It only happens when I feel protected with the sound of a voice from
another

Jeg lader vægten af mit hoveds overarbejde holde dig til jorden (bare lidt endnu).
Aldrig før har jeg følt noget så tomt som hullet i mit hjertet.
Aldrig før har jeg været så bange for sten.
Jeg lover dig at den dag mit hovede lader dig svæve elegant til vejrs vil jeg give slip på min frygt men indtil da ved jeg ikke hvad jeg skal gøre.
Du må forstå at jeg ikke forstår hvor du er og jeg vil lede under hver en sten i verden hvis det kan bringe dig tilbage.
Måske jeg skulle starte med den hvor dit navn er indgraveret i.
Der hvor jeg skulle slippe din hånd og give den videre til et håb om liv efter døden.
Men jeg holder stadig fast som anker der sidder fast under sten.

I hugged my pillow so tight that I could have broken a ribcage
And when I woke up with a tear soaked pillow I knew
I knew who I had imagined
who I had lost once again as I opened my eyes and saw nothing.

I daydream of alcohol and pills
Constantly thinking of ways to get away from here
I do not own those surviver skills
Everyone is whispering in my ear
I can no longer hear your voice on the phone
Someone please take me home

I have been writing for so
long that i have gotten lost in the pages of the past
A past I am digging in
to find the answers that no one will answer
The dirt under my nails
turns to thorns itching my skin sore
blood starts puring out from my veins
the past is not for beginners
it takes practice to ignore  the pain and guilt that comes with it
I wish i never dug my nails into the ground
searching for myself
I am more lost than ever
Lost in the transition between
who i was and who i want to be
I am digging my own grave right next to a clear tombstone.

kaotiske køer på glat is i tågens slørende billede på landet ved siden af den røde traktor som han kørte i til den dag hvor motoren gik i stå ved de fældede træer som nu er en bænk til minde om den dag hans hjerte gav op og her vil mit hjerte opgive kærligheden til nykøbte navnløse køer på din jord som nu kun har syv røde roser og en gravsten med dit navn på

Jeg kunne sige så meget men siger intet
Jeg sidder blot i stilhed og lader tårerne hviske ordene i et sprog som alle forstår
Jeg fylder mit værelse med planter så dødens tunge gassky fortæres
Men i mine lunger spreder den kvælende fornemmelse sig til mit hjerte
hvor den ligger omklamrende i blodbanens lune rander

Holding back my tears from falling down
like a sunken ship in an ocean of tragedies.
Going somewhere that no one knows
like a falling star in the night-sky.
Never to see
always to be my falling
star.

du er lænket til din sengs ynkelige undertrykkelse
fars vuggeviser skygger for din livsglædes melodi
for dæmonerne i dine drømme er kendte skikkelser
djævelens afkom ser du i dit spejlbilledes selvportræt
knuste glas afslører kærlighedens farve på din hud
pillerne formår at trøste din angst bedre end jeg gør
jeg kan ikke forklare dig mit livs kaotiske tragedier
for først må du forstå din egen sørgmodige kamp
så jeg skriver det i digte som du aldrig vil læse højt

Don't be falling angels
But flying human beings
Let's collide in the sky
And never die
Just let us be
Free

Save our souls from the panic attacks that build up in our minds when we get asked
What is your name
And we are afraid to say anything in fear of saying our own names wrong like we do not know ourselves. When in fact we have criticized every inch of our restless bodies and analyzed every corner of our reckless minds only to try and find out why people do not like us. So when you ask me what my name is I will not answer unless you are going to remember it like it was your own so at least one of us will know who I am.

where do broken hearts go
to catch their breath
to rest their pulse
to heal their ache
when no one can help
and the damage is done
where do broken hearts go

mit hjerte vil altid tilhøre dine ravne klør
du så igennem min skal og fandt perlen
under vandet hvor jeg gemmer mig forladt
i et hav af glemte sager og hav-gudinder
hørte du mine lydløse skrig efter hjælp

mit hjerte vil altid tilhøre et tomrum
ingen ser igennem min skal perlen
faldt til bunds og gemmer sig under
sandet omfavner de ubrugelige rester af
hvad der engang var dit er nu mit

*dine fjer ligger trygt i min skal

vi ville være for evigt
men intet er for evigt
derfor er vi nu intet
for evigt
intet

Let me scream your name and let it echo into space where it will continue forever and fill the black holes with
your light

Let me lay inside your heart as it pumps my existence into your veins where it will stay to infinity like there is no end to love
no oblivion

your metal armor has rusted
fallen apart
like it had never existed
your deep blue eyes
are dried out in the distant
like they never have drowned
your palms are closed
like they have never been open
your words have vanished
like they were never spoken

kig i spejlet når min mor står der
du vil se mig i hendes reflektion
men ikke genkende det ukendte
far du elsker hende jo til døden
men elsker du overhovedet mig
eller har du konstant lukket øjne

dine summende ord flyver rundt om hovedet på mig
blander sig med støjen fra min overophedet computer
en unødvendig larm i rummet
jeg fanger dig som myggen på væggen
jeg masser dig som myggen i min hånd
du er en blodsugende myg på jagt
efter opmærksomhed
men det er også det eneste du får
for ingen har kærlighed til myg som dig
de finder dig
de slår dig ihjel
som myggen i min hånd

If my hands were ice
your fingerprints
would have been
carved into them
like an ice sculpture.

Your fingerprints
are like paintings
in my gallery of
missing people.
Only missing you.

If my hands were ice
you would be the artist
and I would have melted

Jeg prøvede
at slås med ild
men brændte blot
mig selv

Jeg kan stadig mærke
den skoldhede
metaloverflade

Som var det igår
jeg testede
mine forældres
tålmodighed

Som var det i dag
jeg fik trangen
til at gøre det forbi

Med livet
foran mig
og døden bag mig
løb jeg min vej

Med grønne træer
og skumle øjne
bag glade mennesker

Der stod jeg
alene i verden
med livet kørt afsted

Her står jeg
med brandsår
Og døde øjne
bag verden.

You fill out the empty spaces in my mind and heart with your tone-deaf
laughter.

If your laughter was a place to live it would be a farm with cows, pigs and
seals.

It could **** a thousand birds but I would rather live on your farm and see a million dead birds than laugh
alone.

Monotone stemmer og opgave ark
i tusinde eksemplarer hjemsøger
mine drømme om ingenting.
Det hele smelter sammen
som metaller i ild
og det er der jeg ser dig.
Du hiver metalmassen ud af ilden
og kaster den ned på gulvet
hvor det ligger
som en stor rødglødende pøl
midt i det hele.
Du tænker ikke over
at jeg svøber metaller
i en skabelon
af mit hjerte.

A lack of concentration is all i need
or all i have
it doesn't really matter
because either way i can't focus
I need to
do my homework
clean my room
walk the dog
take a shower
and tons of other stuff
and I can't help but
think of everything
that doesn't matter like
you
you were all I needed
or all I had
it doesn't really matter
because either way I can't have you

Laying on a cold road
in the middle of the night
holding a strangers hand.

Looking up in the blue sky
even though no stars appear
we keep on looking up.

Laughing over nothing
and nothing else than
us doing nothing at 1am

Living like there is a tommorrow
to lay, look, laugh and live
a day more to share with him.

In a graveyard of memories I find myself digging.
Searching for something.
For us.
Seeing your skeleton holding mine hurts.
A teardrop lands on our skeletons and they collapse.
That is why I burried us.
I got tired of cleaning up the mess.
*let us stay 6 feet under the ground

Running
away from
my problems
is like
stopping a fire
with gasoline
it
only
gets
**worse

It was showing on his blushing skin and shaking hands.
His insecurity was running through his veins.
His eyes started wandering when I caught him looking.

It was showing on my blushing skin and shaking hands.
My insecurity was running through my veins.
My eyes started wandering when he caught me looking.

It was showing on our blushing skin and shaking hands.
Our insecurities was running through our veins.
Our eyes started wandering we caught each other looking.

It was not what he had said
that hurt the most
but that he had said it.
He broke my heart
with his voice.
But that is alright
because words will heal my heart
like his voice never existed.
*I will forget his voice
but not his words.

I feel like a pickle in jar.
Drowning in salty tears.
Waiting on a shelf for
someone to want me.
To drag me out of this
lonely jar and take a bite
of my tear soaked body.
I am waiting for someone
to tell the difference between
a cucumber and a pickle.

Grew up shaking hands with the iron.

Making a thousand diamonds shine on the floor.

Screaming over the voices inside.

Bruises and marks behind locked doors.

A game of play and pretend had begun.

Teddybears and sharp knives do not match.

I told her about
me reading
poetry.
She laughed.
Thought I was
joking.
Looked at
me as if she
did not know
me.
Like I had
always been
unsentitive.
Immune to
sorrow.
I was a
sister who
had become
a stranger
in a moment
of seconds.
The fake smile
had worked.
That is why
I will never
tell her about
my heartaches
and depressing
poems.