words mean everything to me
but in their essence, they are mistaken.
there is no loneliness in a suicide forest
because you're surrounded by corpses
                                        not unlike yours;
yet the very reason you have something in common with them
                         is because you felt alone.

that's what they said.

immediately,
my mind closed the hatch
that i use
to peek, from time to time,
at the world around me.

silence followed
and my thoughts screamed loudly,
deafening in the stock-still void:
"but what if the only thing my voice is telling me to do is shut up?"

i want someone to love me
like i'm their own personal gravity
with all the physics i could create

but i guess i can just watch
from the atmosphere
whilst two others embrace

the crystal palace by Paxton shatters
and with them, our pots&pans clatter

all clothed in black
all ready to knick-knack the lumberjack
not one body, hair, eyes; unknown
one body, one mind, one goal, one soul,
one damsel, three-headed, five traumas & a million foes
we are one and we are all
we’ll stay silenced, thus shout no more

abandon the tight hold of gravity
believe me, all of us are sacred-to-be
tied for forests, trees interrupt my fantasy
my high school lagoon reflects
what we’ve been craving so badly

imagine
showing someone your weak spot
the place where you're most vulnerable at
the one safe word in a sentence where all
the others have failed you several times
the flesh revealed when you took your top off
and know they've punched it
slammed it, dunked it
into the murky waters below
oh, why does it hurt so
realizing i should not have trust you at all

the rythm flows nicely:
in & out, ballerina thighs;
magical and sultry, the only thing that i breathe,
grab at me desperately
(no time for human need).

today the soul has been nourished
and i've uncloaked myself to thee.
i lost something i had held on to,
but i'm so glad you lost it with me.
swirly figures in my mind's eye & bruises on weak knees.
pull me tighter,
(it's 6 am?)
but we still could go on for weeks

the freckles, snow drizzles and supernovas on your chest
have the same sole intention as me:
to leave a mark on your body & soul
so you can always feel me when there's need.

a girl, laying down
on her stone cold bed
listens to quiet tappity taps
on the pastry roof over her head

she likes to dream, to conquer (and scream)
like in three girls & a cig walking,
she likes to stop, to think, to see
but her watch's-a-tickity-tocking

the compass of 16 brown cats' feet
are keeping her company, after all,
she lies in bed and dreams about
her neighbourhood flooding with blood

your strongest finger is stroking
the chords on your guitar
but your voice is struggling to
keep up with the melodies
your agile fingers have no trouble creating,
so i burst into song:
the pressure relieved the second i opened my mouth.

how can two strangers complement each other so well
when i can't even look into your eyes properly?

  all that is left is feral passion.

she shone through trees,
calling me and my lonesome;
but i cannot understand archaic Egyptian
and i'm lost in despair for a time i've never been shown.
i know i've missed my deadlines,
but we've not been introduced.
take my offering, warrior princess;
take my words and take me home.

i salute the girl walking
side by side with all the other cars
she attempted to salute back
but she vanished, elecricity sparks

and i'm left alone walking
down the side of the road
mental flashbacks remained
in a box, at the bottom of the ocean,  fingers tied in a knot

she is gone
but i'm still here
i might miss her comforting presence
but i will see her  
(soon)
my personal literary cliché
are all the ones that I (myself) made

from this place of desolation
i salute all the girls walking
side by side with all the other cars
and i scream "congratulations"
because they're still walking
and i should know that that's enough

headlights cutting through fog like i cut all my ties and toes 'cause i wanted to be free
turns out, all i did was tangle myself up with the rejects

you look like you're trying to stare at yourself from afar
but from a broken mirror refracting dawn
or from a lover's embrace in your ungodly arms?

vulnerable naked goddess, my one and only temptress
the reflection of insecurity inspires the reflection of you in me
she turns the love ballad into a ****** message (and then it's again reversed)
it flows out of my aura like your odd ***** northern ways  
forever has been trampled one too many times
the timestamp on this union withstands the heated rendezvous of a million grandkids buried in the desert sands    
she'd just feel so lost without you  
(let's never go out of style)

i try **** too hard
to be astract, weird and free
but in the end im just lonely old me

i imagine me writing
as i imagine a gardener who plants seeds but does not know if they will become
the most beautiful flower
or the prickiest of herbs

her huffs and puffs are reminiscent
of the effort i gave away;
not realizing i would need it,
not realizing i couldn't wait.

if my head hurts, will i get a toothache?
if my neck burns, does it mean i'm raging?
does the burn feel the pressure of me failing?
does your mom know your chest-burn won't bail me?
will you hold her, when she's escaping?
will she ****** the thoughts that enthral me?
if my head hurts will i get lonely?
if my veins stop will you stay with me?

while falling asleep and practicing being vulnerable
she came across her doublest of entendres:
the stone cold ***** had already made amends
but kept her flatline on low-profile
as to not relive &
as to not regret
    (so to speak, so to forget...)  
the lowlife suffered a pay rise      
and her stomach turned on its head,
the secrets to the feelings between them
were only audible in the coziest of beds
the peeping tom has been baffled
by the mesmerised gazes of her trustworthy men
the unexpected loving family was,
   in fact,
all hers to present in the end.

i have yet to discover
if knowing that everything i do will surely be surpassed by others
reliefs me, in a way, like the ant finds comfort in its colony
or depresses me because i might never be good enough

in reliving golden memories
they came across one in particular
(it seemed to contract and disappear
only to grow stronger when the need
was present, as their fears)
of a rope being held, stretched across
the five-centimetre gap between both lovers' chests
******* have been cared for,
& loved & handled well
intertwined at the lower primal core
the youngsters would dance
to the sound of one's heart&soul
and the other's heart-lifting glance
into amber closets of the finest silks
[i-
lose myself in them.
in those golden memories...
during the golden hours of the day
i remember when you'd breathe by me]

l'éternel retour
m'avait puissé à agir
une, deux, presque trois cents fois
j'ai fait la même choix
j'ai commis les mêmes fautes
je suis têtue comme personne d'autre
mais qu'est-ce que voulez-vous que je dis
si tu m'appelles "babe"
et je ne me sent pas non plus moi même ni libre

intentions crystal clear
daylight savings time, saving us from paranoid suicidal minds
future plans and remakes of the past
carefully deposit them in a clear green vial of dust,
unbroken flask made out of dreamy hazy glass
as memories fade,
(this won't -ever-  happen to us)
making-of-my-wildest-dreams
lovingly embrace you & hold you in my arms

still, the daylight can't help but ask me why,
how we're supposed to never come apart
Destiny forgotten due to our childhood's screams:
Romeo and Juliet were prised apart by their mother's grin

now I'm done
questions asked, better left unanswered, better to forget instead
paranoid insomnia (no sleeping at night),
waiting to be forgotten
(even worse, will I forget?),
when the distance gets too heavy
when the drunk thoughts get too weary
when my feet hurt from running in circles
when you realise what you've done.

i am drunk

and as i unlocked the ability to see double
i saw your face reflected on my drink

the numbing feeling of the bath water gone cold
is reaching my brain,
slowly but surely,
taking over my thoughts
preparing them for the holidays
and freezing them over with the pretext of pain.

inherently demoted
passion waning in Stonehenge
studying the ancestors below me
(abhors me)
no longer needing the satisfaction, i'm guessing
you'll be needing the ever after
when clinging to the clingfilm of thy emotion
lust for the green light of capitalist torsion
but we're fine,
we made it
we're rosemary
and thyme
did she even make it through or did she just forget me
altogether, i get why she'd renounce me
the pretty lady now's in paralysis
international
clinging onto
the crevices
of the menaces
of the surrogates
mind shifting through plain fields of evergreen men
bottles upon bottles of ***** autumn drinks
guilty smokes, alternative facts and poltergeists
cloud my gaze
renounce my place
forgotten wee daisies were born in this place
but i didn't
and i don't
sister is trembling
sorry, she's alone
repenting for foreign perversions
preventing the invasion of thy nation
crossing the borders with thy translation
simply insane,
simply old age

inhale;
bite back on your thoughts.
swallow back the words
that taste vile.

exhale;
and suddenly, the flow does too.
and i forgot all my training.
two years of acting classes
down
the
drain.

this is the way my poems end
"not with a bang, but with a whimper"

twice as short as
anyone expected
unable to commit
unable to persevere

i cut ties and proclaim myself free as i'm tying the next bow around my neck


next time;
tighter, please

pause; and wonder
what a city girl would feel like
if she ended up liking a girl
who isn't even here

my hair falls
in front of my
face

i cannot see whilst i write whilst i walk

turns out writing is easier than breathing, and cheaper too

self-destruction as the human brain's only hobby

my poems are getting messy
but at least i cleaned out my room
of used pillows and blankets and people and trinkets that i no longer needed
bare minimums, start over, again
like you've done a thousand times before

does the soul age with every person it consumes?
do we stay forever in this place if we preserve ourselves, by keeping around people from which we feed?
- parasites.

why am i so young
my brain has murdered
thousands
of
innocents
and washed the blood on my hands with liquid gold that solidified and made the never-leaving stains invisible to the human eye

beauty is in the eye of the beholder
so move on, nothing to see here

i am relentlessly
failing

i hate being so far away from my mémoires. i hate not being able to remember how i felt that second, that fleeting moment. all i remember is the blurry anxiety of feeling like i need to enjoy every single bite or the food will be wasted. two weeks later, i've been diagnosed with alzheimer's disease and i have no idea who i really am.
maybe i talk about being emotionless because the present is always running past, barely bumping my shoulders  (and not apologising, how rude) on the way to the bus stop, i'm always late. the second the minute passes it is lost forever in a sea of murky brown, of jumbled up thoughts that i can't piece together. i've completely run out of cellotape, there is nothing left to stick together so i press undo, undo, undo, until i am barely recognisable.
"those who are emotionless once felt too much".

oh daddy, i just wish you could've seen
the look you wore on your reddened face.
maybe your glasses were unclean,
but you looked like you'd been hit by our celestial mace

my girl, my girl, who are you?
all rebelious and grown and so young?
when have you mastered
this strengh, this courage?
i completely forgot how it's done.

oh daddy, don't worry
i still believe in myself.
improved version, no doubt,
but at least i have found
the courage to scream
and run through the fields,
without ever letting out
as much as a mouse when it squeals.


my girl, my girl, how foolish of you.
to believe in this world,
to think love will be true
is to chase a dream, maybe one, maybe two.
i am baffled to hear
what your mother made so clear
coming out from
the insides of you.

oh daddy, my daddy, i've promised i will
countless times, countless rhymes,
there's no more ink in my quill.
but still, i wonder, how far i must go
to discover sweet land promised to us eons ago.

my girl, my girl, i know you must go
but i'm terrified, so terrified
of letting you go, so lonely
so young, i'm scared beyond words
and your mother will surely be hurt.
nevertheless, i know you must go
so i ask one last thing before you do so:
when things are going down,
when you feel like you're going to drown
always remember where this place is, home.

"if i could i would feel nothing, that's the truth and i don't care"
engraved in my brain
and i'm waiting for vultures to engrave onto my skin
i'm sick and tired of this sin
i'm waiting for someone to remove all this ****

the tidings, barefaced,
bring news of revenge

housewifes have been murdered
and cleansed and chiseled and thread

victims have overrulers
and dummed luck friends

tidings are favorable
yet wet in the end

for no forsaken warrior
shall be mourned in his own head

unfortunately, tidings bring (as well)
the news of a drunken lost shell

of sea voyagers and criminals
thank god i'm not infinitesimal

after months of silence,
a heartfelt laugh sounded like a gunshot.

loud, obnoxious, almost psychotic
when i let it out.
loud, obnoxious, almost psychotic
when the silence that came after weighed me down like it always has done

silence
             can be
                          deafening
                                              too