welcome to my brain

I was born upside down,
Preikestolen in my spine,
Baldr whispered, “Run wild,”
and I never learned to walk—only charge.

I meditate in chaos,
hold breath till the silence shivers.
Doctors panic.
I just smirk.
Two minutes is peace to me.

I kick air to remind gravity
that I’m still the boss
and punch walls of thought
just to hear them echo.

Luzifer lights my thoughts—
not evil, just awake.
Baldr wraps them in gold.
Shaolin monks?
I’d spar one,
bowing with bruises and respect.

Poetry drips from my lungs
like fog off the fjord.
I speak in sparks and
rhyme with thunder.
My mind’s a temple with no roof—
every god welcome
as long as they listen.

I am ADHD
in motion and meaning.
A storm wearing headphones.
A spliff-lit oracle.

And if you feel too much—
if your heart rattles like mine—
don’t run.

Sit.
Breathe.
Roar.

Bald? Maybe.
Bored? Never.
Got a man on top
Who’s mowing forever.

Each pass he makes,
A joke gets born—
'Cause who needs hair
When you’ve got a lawn?

Soak in the bath of pain you
Who brought them

Crushing

its vocabulary of slander
to we with whom you wake
each day

severed limbs of children

Tongues lay spent

Cries To Allah from the
dying Faithful.  

God is good who pray
amidst the betrayed
lay slathered in the
fields of liars.

Who takes  away the good
of this world
while
we

pray

that the sons of betrayal
hang

Hearing  

bombs backfire.

Lives lost is a
dried sand sounds
of choking
down the

*****

Of lies whose brother
Truth

Is Betrayed.


Caroline Shank
April 4, 2025

Those words you spoke,
Solemn and soft,
Caressed my supple heart,
And ignited it into desire

I felt your touch peer through the cracks.
Your love breathed through the gaps.
I saw your eyes shimmer in the shadow.
Your warmth glimmer in the cold.

I came running to that door —
The one you opened just for me.
All alone with your lingering touch,
Held by the softness of my reverie.

And now my love burns fiercely.
Setting fire to that solemn door.
The frame splinters my tender hands,
Desire bleeding now for my own flesh and bone.

why do you say things you don't mean?
three words come easily for you
like a mirage you continue to uphold—
so soft, yet never true.

which ones are real?
and which ones are lies?
your quiet hides what you won’t say
but I see it in your eyes.

your tongue has made it its habit
to use your words as a weapon
but after all this time, I still wonder—
why do lies on your lips taste like heaven?

In the black of night,
I remain as ashes
tight and comforted
by a feeling of nothing.
I am burnt, I have decayed,
but I still am
And so as I rest in nothing
and look around to see.. nothing
I know I am anything but nothing.
I am ashes.
I am torn.
But I am.
In this dark, I have light.
It’s just that no one else can see it.

my chest
doesn't scream --
it hums
with a stabbing pain
too polite
to interupt.

my soul
it still reaches
for hands
that no longer
reach back
to me.

Let us call it
exactly what it is.
 
 
Grand
Grandiose
Grandioso
 
 
gestures that leave me suspended
from a tray ceiling like
 
 
a glass chandelier hanging
on a string of beaded words.
 
 
It's all very
 
 
Grand
Grandiose
Grandioso
 
 
until the
string is pulled
too tight.
 
 
 
Then there will be
nothing left
but glass, beads,
 
 
and broken hearts
on a marble floor.