if this room bites,
then so do I;
remember how many times change has been spoken,
uttered though ****** teeth.
you make your own wounds,
you collect your own tears,
you tear apart your own red string.

If this room bites,
There’s no need to knock-
I’ll be here.

I could’ve loved you better.
I could’ve entwined my thoughts with yours,
hoping to create a bond so strong
that when we were to fall,
it wouldn’t be broken by gravity.
I could’ve peeked through the key hole
of your mind
just to get a glimpse of what
you were trying to hide.
I could’ve been standing
at the edge of the galaxy in your eyes,
in awe of all the ways in which you shone,
be it day or night.

Perhaps I didn’t know how to;
perhaps I thought I had more time.

I could’ve loved you better.
But I didn’t even understand how you could
so simply
so purely
so divinely
love me.

I must seek forgiveness elsewhere,
or so this ceiling speaks,
as I spoke to it several nights ago,
clearly and immensely,
ready to choke on my own self-importance.
As I deny this memory,
my memory denies me the sweetness of yesterday
or of a decade ago.

In a different country, I look up at the same ceiling,
consistently,
unforgivingly.

Have I been staring into the void for so long
that I started to think I wasn’t alone?
Had I known there was no way to enter,
I would’ve never knocked at this kingdom’s door.
I thought the moon was waiting for me on the other side
and I could fall in her arms,
relieved to have come back home,
after experiencing humanity
without my consent.
I never meant to fall,
I never meant to live as anything else
but a whisper of light in the darkness,
and yet…

The gods like sacrifices and so that’s what I  became.

Courteously skipping through petals and broken glass,
I make my way home.
It’s been a while.

Trees bow down in greeting;
Rain dampens my cheeks,
Mildly reminding me of the way things used to be,
When innocence still stained me red,
When stars still blinked at me.

So now I walk with steady steps
That the ground doesn’t recognize.
Only depth and chasm know my pace.

I push open the door--
“Good evening, girl of ice.
Same darkness, same time?”

Rest a thought at the edge of my bed;
I never minded the immeasurable,
nor the immensity of what a second can bring.
Whether the cracks in the walls can speak
(their mouths are too close to my ears,
their breath is too far into my subconscious,
too far into my unforgivable thoughts),
or the outside air can fill an emptiness not yet defined-
it won’t matter-
closeness and loneliness have never felt this similar.

Rest your being onto mine;
This is the last drop of vulnerability I dare give away.

“We fall in deep and never let go,
Pretending we’re supposed to be together,
Though i can clearly see
Your flesh falling apart,
And your veins pulsing their way out,
And your white skin
Turning gray.
Our love is molding,
And it’s spreading to our hearts,
But we keep saying it’s an illusion.
Illusions hurt, darling,
When they smother you at night,
And our necks are bruised,
And our lungs are sore.”

Have you been able to look yourself in the eye
lately?
Or has darkness taken over
your vision?
You think you're seeing monsters,
but they're just mirrors.
They don't go away when she sun
comes up.

We are creatures born from fog,
each of us emerging from musty pasts,
doing our best to hide them,
and breathe in mystery,
and breathe out sin.
We make our way through smoke,
never asking what our path is,
but floating in a daze,
to a destination unknown.
There is no light at the end of this tunnel,
there is no clean air.
Our souls have become shadows;
you can see them lurking
from behind symbols of misery.
We are the people of darkness,
we are the ones you fear,
we steal dreams
and bring about nightmares.
We share our home with death itself,
in its purest form.

There was once this boy I knew.
He had love on his lips,
but his tongue spelled deceit,
and when I tasted the poison,
it was too late.

There was once this boy I knew.
He danced with the stars
and made my heart beat to his rhythm,
but when my own tempo was found,
they didn't match.

There was once this boy I knew.
He could light up all my dark corners
with a glimpse of his smile,
but the trouble was, between us,
there were no words, nor his, nor mine.

There were once three girls I knew.
They chased lies, looks and illusions,
and craved affection like it was ******.
But they all died.

And now here I am, a blend
of all the boys I knew
and all the girls I've been,
and I'm trying to make peace
with the fact that it's just me now.

And it's starting to feel right.

You were fire
and I was water,
always trying to tone you down
always a little behind you,
cleaning up the mess you made
with your flames and your wrath.
But I couldn't breathe through the smoke anymore
and I fell to the ground,
tired and lost.
When I opened my eyes,
you were gone,
and the only thing left
was a pinch of ash from the part of my heart
you burned out.
The worst thing is,
after all this time,
it's still a little bit warm.

Coming down to earth was never an option,
when stars are winking,
urging me to them.
Don't worry,
I shan't ever look down in longing,
for I have only just taken off.
Now the time must surely be
for rising.

Us, lonely creatures, we’ve got something special: we can rebuild ourselves several times,
only from the pieces we saved on the way down on a night not unlike this one
under a moon not unlike
the colour of your skin since you’ve been giving yourself away without reason
only to maybe stop the ticking in your head
time is running
time is flying
time is taking a spaceship to where you want to be but never will be able to reach
because that’s what you found out when you screamed your way into this world and somehow you managed to stop the screaming
even if you’re just as terrified as when you first saw the light you never asked for.
Find me, universe. Even you forgot where you tossed me.
You are a melancholic soul, child.
You turned yourself inside out and still haven’t found the source of this feeling.
Some things shouldn’t be seen during the day.
Clean up all your vulnerable parts and stack them under the carpet.
Pack up your heart and tape it shut.
Don’t let the red escape, because red is poisonous and you’ve got so much venom inside your mouth
that you forgot what being pure tastes like.
I’ve been seeing red
I’ve been breathing red
I’ve been crying red.
Does loneliness mean anything anymore?
You’ve chewed it up and spit it out so many times
10 times each morning and
20 times each night just to keep it under control.
Where is your control?
Where is your essence?
Where is your patience?
You’ll need it when every inch of you asks for harmony in a million different ways that go against each other
and which voices are you supposed to listen to when you’ve been talking to yourself so much you forgot what your own voice sounds like?
Home is nowhere and everywhere all at once
and sometimes I find it within myself but
sometimes this body is a strange building I’ve never set foot in before.
I let the wind cleanse me from the inside out.
His whispers are comforting; his touch is the rebirth I crave.
May I try again? I’m not quite sure I understand what it means to live in this world.
I’m still longing for the one I left.

Hello, beautiful autumn.
You're spilling all over the ground,
in shades of agony,
in shapes of past lives.
I wish I could hold you together, autumn,
but you're slipping through my fingers,
in drops and shadows.
The sky seems to be mourning
the loss of a year,
and clouds are turning and rolling,
restless and thick,
blocking us in.
Rain wishes to become crystals
of magnificent beauty
that is so short lasting,
it captivates with its innocent fragility.
I'm waiting to be covered by snow,
dear autumn,
for I'm numb and nothing feels warm anymore.
So I think you should go.

There's death in the air tonight,
and it's coming to take you, thick like smoke
that is leaking from the rusty faucet
of laughing ghosts,
who have known it all too well,
who can feel if flowing through their veins,
tingling like a swarm of flies,
taking over where blood once was.
Take a deep breath
and let it out,
don't allow it to touch your lungs
or you might find yourself screaming,
tearing your skin apart,
only to maybe be able to take them out.
The night has called them from below,
and now you hear death whispering ,
whispering,
embracing you with their angel-like wings.
You thought you'd run,
but you don't want to.
And the coldness suddenly feels like home.

I am losing myself into your eyes,
as if I'm lying in the meadow
and falling inside of the sky.
Gravity has no control over me anymore,
not since your touch freed me
from the chains that were holding me down,
and now I'm either flying
or drowning,
but what does it matter
when the only color I see is blue?
Reality has never felt this good.

Hello, once again, dear stranger.
I know I said I'd never turn your volume down,
but it's grown to torture me
with reminders that
I can't ever have you.
I must confess, I can't take it anymore.
I'm sorry, dear stranger,
I wish I was for you,
but there's nothing crueler
than watching you from afar,
so now I have to go even farther,
to keep myself away
and safe.
Good-bye for now, restless stranger.
I'll keep you in my heart.

Good morning, beautiful.
Isn't that how you used to start my day?
Every word a love letter
addressed to me.
I foolishly thought to be in control,
when I was just hanging by a sound
of your voice.
"Please forgive me"
is not  what I'll remember,
but rather the conviction
"I can't do it anymore."
"Good-bye,my love."
is what I've been saying for so many months,
but somehow
it never hits its target,
so I've made a lullaby of it.
At night, it's all I sing.

Please come back, September,
'cause it's cold and it's dark,
and I feel like corpses are rising behind my back
and this whole world is our own,
personal tomb.
I know I banished you, September,
for my icy heart thought
I'd make a rope out of your leaves
and tie it around my neck
in a knot.
I bellow and I cry, September,
have mercy on my poor soul,
don't let it crawl through snow
that might cover me up completely
and oh, so, so deeply.

This is called loneliness.
This is more than what I bargained for
when I let you rip out my soul
and drag me in this underworld
of burning feelings
and forgotten people,
of everything that’s left behind
after it’s been used.
I feel your eyes on my tender skin
and it burns like venom through my blood.
But don’t you know
I’m becoming immune
with each passing second
and one day my gaze won’t be buried in the ground anymore.
Don’t you dare not look me in the eye
or run from my claws and growing scales;
Don’t you dare be surprised
if one day I bite without any warning;
don’t you dare say you’re sorry
before I turn you into stone.

This is called monstrosity;
this is becoming what you’ve always dreaded.

Nothingness is having a conversation
With the human it created.

Soft-faced, the moon looks down
On a not so soft girl.
Call for me-
I’ve been waiting,
I’ve been longing,
I’ve forgotten what it means
To burn.

It’s been a while since the world bothered with my presence.

And sometimes,
you find yourself devoid of all covers
and make-pretends,
and you finally see yourself,
as you are.
And it's beautiful
how peaceful you can become,
when you let go of the characters
you're trying to play.
And you let yourself speak,
and you let yourself revel in silence
and treasure it.
And you find your sea of tranquility.
And you dive in.

Steal me away;
make me forget I ever lost my place
and wandered about these lands,
wandered about the forbidden and the outcast.
The ground bellowed for a bit of me,
for a fistful of feathers
and a pinch of flesh.
Home never tasted like honey,
there was never a way back.

Here your life begins.
Here you find yourself drenched in solitude
that burns like gasoline every night.

This is your way of becoming one with the moon.

Hi there, darling.
Haven't seen you in years.
Each of us have been searching for something
or someone.
I can tell we've found people,
and that they all left.
We've grown and we've changed
and you don't recognize me anymore.
But it's alright, I've moved on.
I guess we were too young for each other
and maybe
a bit too different.
Perhaps one day we'll meet on the bus
and our earphones will tangle up
and our music will merge together
and we'll find sparks of memories
in each other's eyes.
And perhaps my words with your guitar
will make a song of our own.
If not, I've got your smile pierced in my heart.
It shall stay there for long,
I promise.

Crawl beneath my shadow,
and I'll crawl under yours;
two lost souls with wings
that once flew too high, too close.
Our feathers burnt to ashes,
our bodies hit the ground,
now we're cursed and banished,
now each other's all we have.

Mutters, mutters, mutters.
Oh, where are my words?
What hiding have they found
when I need them the most?
My mouth moves in vain,
my eyes roll aimlessly;
I have become half dead,
I stroll around carelessly.
May my poor soul revive,
May my gaze once again rise,
May I find parts of me
that I have lost down the line.

I gracefully turn myself mad,
jotting emotions
that could cut me raw,
while bowing to whispers of fog.
I can't contain monsters of cranky reality,
knocking, knocking,
BANGING
at my door.
There's folly floating in the air,
filling up my lungs.
I shall succumb to it,
or else suffocate.

In one year,
I've wandered around like the seasons,
in search of a place to let my scars
turn golden.
My blood has freezed, and now
I'm carrying ice-bergs in my tired veins.
I am a product of fog and dust,
slowly becoming invisible
and unsettling.
Not even the moon could reach out to me
anymore,
for I've sunk so deep into darkness,
its light would die here.
There's a different king of living in this land,
all marked by agony and madness,
and grim laughs that terrorize human souls,
whispers that play with their minds.
I've reached the end,
the cruel end,
and now,
there's nowhere to go.

I tried my best to breathe in words,
to cry out ink,
to float like paper.
I spilled my blood
for a bit of passion,
for a bit of essence.
All I've done is rip out pages,
drain my soul
and bring about ghosts.
Perhaps I've lost my calling.
I might've lost it all.

I wash the sand off my skin,
Attempting a transformation-
From lover to myself,
From past to myth.
Catching your own mind in betrayal
Is to be forgiven-
You are only your own now,
You have only your own duality,
Your own unsolvable self.

Try to see-- the end is not what you imagined;
Try to understand-- immortality is never a blessing,
and the love you seek is not yet born.

Should I dare
Should I dare
Should I dare break through,
shatter glass
fall apart
awake brand new?

Should I risk
Should I risk
Should I give my soul,
carelessly
hopefully
show my all?

Should I dare
Should I risk
I shall fall.
Should I not,
**** my soul,
don't let it crawl.

I see you, Winter,
creeping through cracks,
slipping innocent snowflakes out and about.
I know you, Winter,
and your icy touch and your frosty flowers.
You fooled me with beauty
that happened to be deadly,
just a year ago.
I'm not falling for it now, Winter,
don't you dare bring to me
another pair of sparkly eyes
that shall freeze me
in only a few words.
Do not show yourself with tasty lips,
blowing icy winds into my mouth.
Let's make peace, Winter,
and enjoy ourselves,
this time around.

Such an oddity:
not to feel anything at all.
One cannot describe the emptiness
that makes you fall into yourself,
desperately trying to fill a gap
that is designed for hollowness.
Should my heart stop,
I wouldn't know,
for it already it
half dead
and half invisible.

And I'll learn to hold my pen tighter,
to make my words larger,
to paint my colors brighter,
gazing at the moon harder,
with my face paler,
like the sun has never met me.
And the stars will fall lower,
closer and closer to my heart,
trying to pierce through it
and set my soul free from this cage of flesh and blood,
when all it wants is to swim
deeper and deeper
into the waves of the sky
that is staring back at me every  night.
And if the ground shall claim me,
holding me back with its roots,
space dust shall come
and take me home-
a home where limits are foolish
and eternity rules above our meek eyes,
shadowed by the fog of human superiority.
And the curtains shall rise
and in the midst of the show,
I might find myself floating through millions of lives
I never asked for.
I only wished
to know my place.
I only wished
not to want to be saved,
for once.

I'm counting down to madness,
I'm counting down to being still,
I'm collecting drops of sadness;
they crawl within
and make me ill.

I'm living on a prayer,
having never known God,
I'm reaching out for heaven,
when burning fire's all I've had.

So I caress my pitch black wings,
patiently gazing at the sky,
while being poked with sticks and twigs
attached to hands of people
that think demons shall never fly.

Need I terrify?
Need my eyes hold ancient rage
When my bones have grown so fragile?

I listen to the old song of my celestial origins;
the moon is mourning
Another year of lost children.

What does god know about being a human?
When dirt calls for me
I’ll tell him what it’s like to love your creations.

Where can I hide?
I’ve lost track of everywhere I’ve been found.

Never to disappear.

Let us burn,
for we were not meant to be saved,
for we were not meant to rise back up,
ever again.
So we've fallen,
so fallen we remain:
foresaken as a fate,
fearless as a choice.
We roam the earth,
we watch the stars,
we let them stare back with imposing shine,
for when the time comes,
they all fall.
And us, we multiply.

I feel like I watch life pass by
From behind bulletproof glass
As if I'm a museum exhibit
Just waiting for time
To make me priceless.
No wind
No sun
Not much air left.

It’s hard to dwell
in a world not my own,
where no one comes to find me,
no one comes to make sense of
the words I rip from myself
like dead skin.

I don’t exist,
just as tonight never happened,
just as your lips never rested
upon mine.

I am made of hollows-
not much of anything,
maybe just a shadow,
maybe just the last cry of loneliness
before a cold hand comes to smother it.
It’s hard to imagine a future
in which
I won’t be just a repressed thought,
just a rain drop that refuses
to come down to earth.

And yet I try-
even if every time I turn to the light,
darkness is never far behind me,
ready to grab me by the shoulder
with her precise and malicious claw.

I'm not asking for the Sun,
just a ray of blissful warmth would suffice.
I'm not asking for a star,
just a little sparkle would be enough.
I'm not asking for the moon,
just a bit of space dust's all I need.
I do not want your whole heart,
for I would not know what to do with it,
each beat spreading my anxiety.
All I wish for is one of them,
just one heart beat missed
for me,
and I'd forever be yours.

Hey there, lover,
I've seen you in my dreams
and my heart hasn't slept since,
in fear of getting hooked up on you;
but even in insomnia,
she can't escape.
I want you around, lover,
but one of us will have to get hurt,
and it can't be me again.
You'd better run, lover.
I'm not who I used to be,
now I bite and I scratch,
and  I make sticky webs,
and you wouldn't want to get caught up in them.
Farewell, lover,
I'll pay you a visit
when I can't fall asleep.

I seek you on lazy mornings,

With eyes half closed,

Half browsing the room

For you.

I see the waves of the restless sea

And I see your moves

At times when you were mine-

Never still, never quiet,

Never taking the time to appreciate

What you had.

I wish I were a seagull

Always flying above your foam

Admiring every inch of you.

Instead,

I am the shore,

Constantly waiting

For you to come back.

Was I a burning flame in the sky?
What am I now?
Now I’m struggling on the ground,
struggling to lift my gaze upwards,
to call for my sisters,
and my chest is pained
by the distance between us.
Now my flesh bleeds in shades of red
and my bones crack
from gravity’s pressure.
Now the only star dust
is in my eyes,
and it’s blurring my sight,
and it’s making me cry.

Was I a burning flame in the sky?
So what if I was?
Now I am only human,
so sensitive to pain,
so fragile,
so destructible.

I am merely a reminder
of what I used to be.

You speak of things that cannot be seen and your lungs fill  up with smoke.
It's been a while since I could see your face,
through all the thoughts and the words
that float around,
making a cloud
meant to scare people away.
I'm not scared. I can hear your voice.
I can see your light and the sparks you make
by trying to set yourself on fire, but don't you know
fire never killed the sun
and the night never gets lost in darkness.
In a room with no soul, the voices come and play
in echoes and in whispers,
and then you start to speak aswell.

Patience is a virtue,
they tell me,
only so that I won’t dare expect more
than what has been given to me,
should my heart shudder
with every desire I deepen into oblivion.
I vowed to shed my tears in silence,
not to disturb the sublime harmony of things,
not to listen to the deadly screams
that are bellowing me to them.
Our world is running late.
Our world promised us that which can’t be obtained,
that which lies inside each and every person
who finds their chest pounding
to the same rhythm
stars are born with.

Anticipation;
a drop of hope and a pair of arms lifted to the sky-
there is nothing more.

Trying not to tumble and crush,
I give my all
to walk this thin line
between madness and balance,
between ill and sane.
Most days,
I want to spread my arms
and let strong winds
drag me to the ground.
One day,
I'll shut my eyes
and let myself go.

Tonight should be made holy,
it should be painted with lights
and up there, in heaven,
together with them
should your luminous face reside.
Tonight should be kept safe
between your eyelashes
and heavy sighs,
it should be sung by crickets and waters,
it should be waltzed by us-
too in love to hide.
But should the sky not want to hold it,
should your eyes repel it with their tears
tonight should be forever forgotten
and we should sleep,
for it was only just a dream.

I am a pool of broken glass:
Sharp edges
And rough surfaces.
No matter how gently you dive in,
I am bound to hurt you.
Once, I was a beautiful stained glass.
Now, I am only stains and pieces.

Once, I might’ve burnt down my own throne,
disgusted by the weeds that climbed around it;
I might’ve kissed my crown lovingly,
might’ve painted it with blood
before burying it with the rest of my thorns.

A kingdom needs its queen.
This queen needs herself back.

I dust off my cloak.
Where do souls go to rest?
Where do you return the body you borrowed?

The doors slide open-
away I go.