Blandt rustne rør, gemt bag et flosset forhæng,
under den brusende brusers glædeskilde
skyller *** sin knoglede krop i flydende lykke
*** lader den lune bagsiden af sit halve hjerte,
hvorefter den flygtigt forsvinder ned i afløbet

Og når *** om lidt vil træde ud på de kølige fliser igen,
mens forhænget ukueligt vil klamre sig til hendes volatile varme,
mens bruseren bag hende stadig vil friste med boblende behag,
vil *** blot vikle *** sit hår op i et håndklæde af endeløs ensomhed
Og dér - lige dér - vil *** føle sig allermest tilpas

Stars pulled from their suspends,
I watched the night bleed onto me.

The moon is just as dangerous to your
naked body,
as it still is to my naked heart;
a misfit artist perched softly in starlight,
reeling in hearts with faulty chambers.

Two aortas and the taste of your neck.

Two empty bottles of red wine
and the dark smothering something
I was never taught could shine.

Motionless
I stare at my past
as it enters the present.
A rush of cold blood
dismantles my stance
as I shake within the bellowing air
and mourn as the act unfolds.

With a smile on her face
And such light in her eyes
You’d never think of
How much she cries every night

‘til her mouth runs dry
‘til her eyes turn red
Her strength is something
Something that overwhelms

I watch their footsteps
I listen to their laughs
Sometimes I wonder why
They keep joking about love.

I walk into the classroom
The boys are being rude
The girls are gossiping
Sometimes I wonder if
I fit in here.

I sit on the desk, preparing myself
The teacher comes in
He looks very tired, like I'm
Sometimes I wonder if
He wants to die--like I'd.

I start the exam, numbers are running inside my head
I look around to see if everyone's noticing
I look down at the paper and
Pull out a pencil from
the pencil case and
Stab my throat.

While the blood are rushing on my shirt
and down to my legs
I wonder why
They keep joking about love.

When you leave, go without a whisper,
as though you were never here. 
Do not leave tear stains on my pillow or kiss my eyes and beg them not to cry.

Dissipate, let the thin air replace you. Leave no echo, no trace of your existence, 
no backward pity glance at what might have been, 

**** the drawn out goodbye, the heartfelt speech, the apologies for the inevitable.

It's not you it's me.....It's always me.

Let the truth hang  above my broken form, swaying as the ceiling creaks under its bitter weight. I will dance to it's rhythm soon enough.

Then cease.