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Louise Ruen Jan 2019
my body lays flat on the bed
a body part pointing to each of the four world corners
my sky a light oak tree ceiling

Lana Del Rey is on the radio

the thoughts
How does she understand me so well?
How come I’ve never felt like that before?
occur and intertwine at the same time

the way she shares a little piece of her soul
her wandering, capricious, lusting soul

it’s beautiful

I want to be able to do that too
I wonder

which part of the body holds the soul?

first I cut my toe off

my curiosity simply took over
my foot quickly following along
a rush
floods over me

a leg must lend it’s life
then a finger
my right arm

my collarbones could be used as drumsticks

there are no drums in the song

my left hand is taken apart one finger at a time
I cut down the lifeline
I watch the blood spill out
it stops and
I heave my shoulder joints

next my eyes are up

I rip them out and turn them 180 degrees
so they stare into the sockets they left behind
eyes are after all said to be the window to the soul

I guess they aren’t

the ears are next in line

the other leg

I cut the skin on my throat into star shaped pieces
they sned down onto the gray carpet like alphabeat pasta snow

my nose lands atop my foot

it’s a strange sight

why you call them apple cheeks
I don’t know
they just look like bald rats to me

my stomach I slice open along the scar
I got the summer I crawled into a spruce tree and
caught a broken branch on my way down

left to itself
my heart lays flat on the bed
Lana Del Rey is on the radio
a body part pointing to each of the four world corners
my sky a light oak tree ceiling

I didn’t find my soul

only blood

nerve strings

pulsing muscle

a liver
two kidneys
among other things

maybe the soul isn’t connected to the body
maybe it doesn't matter because

I feel whole

I feel like

I’m in one piece.
Louise Ruen Jan 2019
When do you want to met up?
I ask
add that I’ll sponsor the wine
But you’re too busy eating chocolate with her
Underneath blankets
That spread out like plaster parachutes
making it impossible for you to get up
I know this
still I stand outside the apartment,
a payed for ticket in hand
Late spring’s love breeze intrudes my wooljacket
your trashcan next to me smells rotten
Will people look at me weird if I go alone?
Louise Ruen Jan 2019
I’m lying awake
In my thoughts contractions
You are the weapon
That will eventually slaughter me
Because you’re stronger than I
Yeah, you’re the only one
Who can nail me to my bed
Without using any nails
And even though I’m greedier than you
You’re still my Judas
When you whisper in my ear
Your yellow pupils radiating heat like the sun
Threatening to turn me into ashes before I die
My mother always said one could turn blind by staring into the sun
Is it the truth?
I defy her advice
For a moment the sun in your eyes belong with the ocean in mine
You gave me an answer to my question
Let me turn the water in your body into wine
I am thirsty
Let me enjoy one last supper
Surrounded by white sheets covering just as much as a loincloth would
Let me show you that Paradise is real
And take you there
Let me enjoy one last sin
Before I sacrifice myself on my oakwood bed
Your hands make me feel resurrected
Let me hope for salvation
Our love is a lie. And so it begins. Foolishly laying our hearts on the table, stumbelin' in.
Happy New Year's
Louise Ruen Dec 2018
You share a strange similarity to a traffic light that’s out of order
All I receive are mixed signals
I don’t know whether to stay safe and stay put
Or to take the chance and just go

you emit green light
Your left hand reaches out and caresses my thigh
Your head finds a spot leaning down on mine
But then you shift to yellow
and I can feel the cold from your chest pushing into mine
in a way that makes me wonder
how I am able to support your entire weight
Why doesn’t it burst the ballon under my skin?

My thoughts put to a halt when I see the red light in your eyes
and you say
“I don’t want a girlfriend”
I have to trust your word
Because your forehead part times as a unbreakable fortress to your mind
and today there are no lines nor crinkles to give me a sign on what’s going on in there
I do know that your mind is running rampant
as always
I know that mine is running 90 miles an hour
on a highway that never intersects with yours

You repeat:
“I don’t have time for a girlfriend.”
What I don’t say is
it’s okay, I don’t mind
I just want to be your ex
I know
even if our highways were united through a bridge
we would stand on each side and wave at each other
But never dare to take the first step out on it
In fear of falling into the water

I know that
I’m the type of person that burns my bridges
To ensure I don’t cross them
I know that
You’re the type of person who wouldn’t call 911
But instead stand still and try to heat up your chest

What I don’t know is
whether to hit the break or the speeder
Louise Ruen Nov 2018
Long, weary drops of water are falling outside
Through the bird droppings on my window I notice how the almost almost dead and done grass is leaning slightly to the right.
I shouldn't have time to notice this.
I should be running out the door
But I'm lacking something to run towards
So I'm sitting at the kitchen table, holding a overglamorized clay ***
Trying to fight of all the blue and the grey in the world
I close my eyes and observe my the darkness under my eyelids
The pleasure is greater when all the other senses are shut down
Only then does your full and round Earl Gray flavour truly come to life
Creating a frozen timeslot
To explore the universe under my batting eyelashes
You stand out like the North star tempting me to come along
Even if your moral compass point South instead of North
Surrounded by the constellations of my past,
A moment of seperation from the outside world
That slowly slips away, while you slip down my throat, down to my heart
Making sure a little bit of heat reached it today again.
While tearing me back to reality
Despite all the best things
The kitchen watch starring at me threathingly
Now I actually do have to run out the door
(my goal can always be to find a goal)
that let's the bitter cold inside
whose hinges squirm
While you just stand there like an autumn leaf on my kitchen table.
Louise Ruen Apr 2018
I don’t want to be you anymore.
You’re a cheap version of every Instagram trend,
and you possess more duplicity than the rest of humankind,
when you slide chameleon style through a crowd of people,
professing your love to them, while your stare hits the ground.
making it clear for the rest of us
why you’re deserted
when you talk about obscure things, knowing nobody will follow you,
disarming people from questioning your intelligens,
just so you can feel a little better than them

But it’s okay,
because you’re a hallucination of every guy’s fantasy.
A true dream catch,
who knows how to use her catch-all affect

Making you exceptional.
Your self-control is infallible.
You would never burst into tears, without a proper reason, like I do.
And your body, your face, everything is so beautiful,
In a degree that makes me desire you.
So I coat myself in your charm,
when my feet stop feeling warm

And I can’t look at myself in the mirror, after your visit.
Because I know that you would never
leave this skin undone like I do,
would never
fail these walls like I do

Yeah, it’s a shame,
that your polished plastic perfect smile
don’t cover your crooked teeth
Yeah it’s a shame,
that you can spot me through the crack between your front teeth
if the light hits just right.
And even though my Instagram photos won’t admit it,
my expectations are always more exciting than the occasion itself
And my confidence is a glass tray behind  behind dark red tiles.
But you,
you don't have those problems.

Yeah, it’s a shame,
that I can’t love me as I love you
Not gonna lie...Originally this poem was 100% inspired by Billie Eilish's song "idontwannabeyouanymmore".
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