'His laugh
is the reflection
of my happiness.'

As my tears
are the core
of his grief.'

'It is see through, feels like velvet
keep falling through my fingers...
Ghostly figures and I still see the,
the illusion of the show. It is not
real, it never was, always was a
fantasy. It keeps dripping from my
skin, that illusion of life we are in.'

'Is it ok if I would say
the words I am thinking about,
they are on the tip of my tongue.
Is it ok to wrap my heart around
the meaning of them.
Will it be poison or relieve?'

'Could u lay there, in the meadow under the willow with me?
To watch the stars fade away in the morning sun again.
No words needed, only the touch of your palm in mine.
Could you do that?'

''There it was again, creeping up from my toes to my neck
It found its way like it did before but not exactly how I remembered.
A little bit strange and kind of new, but still so comfortable.
Don't let your feet make it happen would my mother have said
if she could still look into my eyes.
She would have held me tight by my shoulders and asked not
to go away again, begged me to stay.
But I have this feeling again, it is just there in my head.
The urge to run away, far from where I am.
And I know I can run and someone else would try to do what
my mother cannot do anymore. So why would I want to try?
Why does it keep crawling back into my head after all these years?
Or was it always just there? Kept myself foolish.
Maybe it was, maybe it was not. Maybe I have been running all
this time and I came across myself again. There it is, with a sparkle
of new and strange... but the feeling of running will never change.''

'They walked naked, all around in proud.
I sat covered, quiet and with shame.
To think I was better, for not doing the same.'

First time in a locker room of the gym,
Being the only one not brave enough to reveal
how I was truly born. Giving myself the
excuse of 'being better'. What nonsense my
friend said. You don't have to be shy.
But shy, I was not. It was something else,
a kind of fear of myself, I think.

'Stick your feet in solid ground.
Haunting ghosts you had bound;
creep through that rustic land.
All like your dreams had planned.
Nothing more, nothing less.
Just a thought of loneliness.'

'I see no sense in being
something, I dream about to be.
I rather be here in reality.'

'I can puke out all of
who I am
but I will never be
purged.'

'The butterflies you gave me
have found their way to get inside my head.
They keep pounding on my skull
with their delicate wings.
My own thoughts are being bitten,
failing to see all the colors they wear.
You gave me these poisoned butterflies,
did you even noticed to who you gave them?
They keep spinning around my brain,
whispering melanchonic words.
As I grow, they start to die,
death butterflies laying around my mind.
Others filling me with new colors to look upon
and beautiful sounds to listen to.
As I keep closing my eyes, I see those empty
butterflies, as lost memories just being there.
And I realized I always blamed you,
for leaving me with this sight.
But the blame was not on you, mother, I know.
You gave me these pretty butterflies not knowing you
were poisoned by the life you had to live.
And as I learned to accept the you is me,
I'll blame myself for hearing that echo of those
pounding wings some days still.'

''Many asked me why I would sit
in the corner of a room full of people.
That it is the reason the feeling
of loneliness overpowered my soul.
And as I was telling I had never
seen the corner of the room,
they had forgotten about me.''

'I stand here in the dark, It suffocates me.
My eyes leave me lonely, there is nothing to see.
Where the air is wet and dripping on my skin.
My thoughts are killing every last sin.
The cold stones where I stand upon,
leave me not shivering but numb.
I stand here in the dark, It suffocates me still.
But then there is that glimps of light
The power of will.'

'I could smell your scent, taste your feelings '- hear your beating heart when you touched my shoulder. Even though you faded in this crowded city. This city of freedom we were caged in.'

'If I were a woman, I would've kissed you.
And inhale your soul.
But I am only a girl. And I can't grow up.'

'We were flowers, covered in dirt.
We were clouds, falling into rain.
We were rivers, becoming dry.
We were candles, burning up.'

'He walked on dusty roads, alone he walked away. Tearing his flesh apart, everyday. He walked until he could no more. The road ended suddenly, his feet got sore, But still he kept on walking forward... on thin air for his eyes to see. He left his own skin, to walk free.'

'My body normally wouldn't shiver that way,
it is because your fingers touched me.
You gave me glitters and tunes I never experienced.
I felt like waves of water crushing into land.
We would travel to Paris and Rome and Prague.
With glistening eyes you walked and danced around my presence.
That voice of yours sounded like music and felt like poems.
I was surrounded with lies, but I didn't care.
Lies you want to hear, said the magazines lying on my lap.
Take me to the promised cities. Take me there in your arms.
I kissed that muscular neck hundred times,
but you wiped those kissed away.
I sprayed my writs, neck and ******* with Chanel.
Hoping you would touch me like that again.
But you didn't.
You left me there standing, watching thin air turning blue.
I always felt so beautiful around you.
Never leaving you was the first lie you told.
And the best.
There was a moment that I really believed in it.
Believed in you.'

'Why not a happy poem?
To smile the day away.
Why not? I could use it, so can you.
Why not a happy poem?
About flowers and blue skies.
Tell me darling, why not a happy poem?'

'When the moon is in silence with his stars in the night, on one side of the circle. The sun shines through her clouds on the other side. On some days they collapse together. The sun will sometimes be obscured If it is too much for the moon to alleviate. To share what is hidden in two souls, a piece of the same, to be as one and spin again in the perfect formation.'

'Cut, cut, little scratch. I wonder how you got attached. On this skin so red and clear. Like everything could disappear.

When the darkness has fallen on you. When the silence is becoming true. Then you grab your little knife. And cut, cut to come alive.

Then the voices in your head. Were getting silent instead. They did not know what to do. Without that body of you.

In the night sky you lay there. Under the white sheets without air. Forever shutting your eyes, dreaming of yourself in heaven skies.

As you fell asleep and finally got rest. Now they'll know they got your buttons pressed. Though little sister blames it all on herself. Cut, cut, little scratch.'