all the sunlight lays gently on the skin
while the colours of day mingle
with red, the red that runs around my mind
runs in rivulets streams and rivers into all oceans
the red of warning and martyrdom  
red re-energising releasing replenishing
the world of wild wild love where children play
in the red red clay under a red red sky
now raining red red rain washing the red red red.

the comforting warmth of the morning sun,
like I had known it from the days of yesteryears.
the familiar scent of dew-kissed grass,
a fresh aroma that brought forth the tide of gratitude laden tears.

I had foreseen the day to be just as before...
I had planned to play out my morning as I had rehearsed.
but your message had foiled all that I thought I knew...
it brought about the smile that eternity had kept pursed.

your words were laced with the flowers of spring...
they set at ease the unapparent apprehension I've always kept.
they spoke of compliments meant only for the worthiest quills,
I've read them in disbelief as I think not of myself, an adept...

truly you are one that's generous and so very kind.
for your words flew off the page and had struck home;
bearing the stoutest of hope and most selfless of wishes.
they had provided direction in these vague circles that I roam.

so now allow me to thank you dear poetess...
for drawing the sunrise clear into my view.
I shall revel and bask in its delightful rays...
because your words had painted today in the brightest hue...

Ive been running for years, never feeling safe or at ease. No sense of 'home' until that day you held me.
My lifes been a lie, countless masks to face whatever gets thrown at me. Hiding from those demons that chase & torment me, too frightened & weak to tackle this road alone.
I feel safe when im with you, you're my best friend & my protector.
Ive trusted in you, pried open doors that were sealed with rust and vines.
Ive trusted in you, pieces of me im too afraid to look at alone.
I give you my hand, my hearts already yours.

The building is coming together.
Some floors are already
Glass wall offices and water
Cooler rooms.

For one year, this concrete
Mansion has been my
Workplace.
I have scars from edges now

Invisible to the suits and secretaries
Of tomorrow.
Somewhere underneath this
Wooden flooring,

My blood drops still remain.
I stand on the glass roof,
Watching my friends in hi-vis
Eight floors beneath me.

This was sky once.
This was nothing.
This held seagulls and city crows
Fighting over bread like the

Two remaining pieces of a chess
Game. Overhead, morning clouds
Withdraw to let a rising sun
Lay its red on Oslo,

And other buildings
I built. Housing
Other drops of my
Blood.

My stomach
churns
acid.

I lay in bed,
counting
the sheep
in me.

And I
hate myself
for every
lost cause
I find and
pet.

I want to
cut open my
stomach
and burn
the wool off
the sheep
with the
churned
acid.

Jesus loves me,
yes I know.
For my nation
tells me so.
Cut the wool
off of every one.
My words go on
but I am done.

Yes, Jesus loves me.
****, Jesus loves me.
Yes, Jesus loves me--
my nation tells me so.