I know.
How time heals all wounds and
we were never getting married.
I know that in a year from now I cant even care less.
I'm aware.
I didn't even love you yet.
It was too short for that.
I know you're just 4 months in 12.
Of hopefully 80.
And I'm going to be just fine,
even better than with you.
I know all of that.
But now,
right now,
I just wish your body was warming my bed.

You are so beautiful.
Why do you even doubt yourself?
You are filled with love and care.
You comfort your friends and family
while you're fighting your own battles.
You're like a free hotel.
The shelter for every hangover.
You're smart.
No, intelligent.
You have all the right ideas about life,
about how to treat eachother.
You're creative.
Funny.
You're not afraid of spiders and hate putting on make-up.
You're independent.
18 years old in your own house,
a study you are paying yourselve.
You are strong.
3 years of anxiety could not knock you down.
You're openminded.
You see the story behind the deeds.
You're funny and positive.
And you can be insanely happy with a christmastree or a wink.
You can cook and dance and climb.
You can be sober and have the best night.
You're sensitive and compassionate.

You are so beautiful.

Is there some kind of rule for
how many flashbacks
of you saying home
and forgetting the your?

Is there someone to answer
the question of how long
it takes to stop seeing
your clothes on the floor?

Is there any book written
on stages of heartbreak
and how to get over
not being enough?

Is there some sort of method
that makes us immune
for the things that destroy us
when we fall in love?

The greatest feeling in the world
Is the security of knowing
You're not going anywhere
Ever

Since you left this house
Almost two weeks ago
My mind has been in chaos
But my body's been at ease

It seems to me this heartbreak came
With healing skin disease.

We stood in the shower
As I gave you a vow
And as you let me take all the water
You repeated

*I promise
To be faithful and loving
Untill it's empty

To the two year old baby,
trapped in the body of a 31 year old man.
To the young lovers keeping eachothers addiction alive.
To the boy who got kicked out of school at 6,
for being agressive.
To the kitten of my neighbours, throwing up worms.
To the lady in the supermarket, with new shades of blue on her face every week.
To the people in the bar, all escaping something else.
To the ginger girl who was never understood, just diagnosed.

I want to apologise in the name of everybody who did not love you as much as you needed them to.

How for one year after you leave
Every triangle will remind me of you
And that I bury my face in the pillow on
Your side of the bed
You were truffle and thyme
When I expected salt and pepper

Father
I see you
And your flaws

I know you never meant to
Always thought you did
And in your way even

I know you'll never
And it wouldn't make
No matter how

You left me
Hurt me

As yours left you
Hurt you

And it was never your intention
To be a bad parent
Or to hurt anyone
When you were a little boy

You are a victim of bad circumstances
Just like me back when you left

But today I leave my victim-self
And finally move on because

Father
I forgive you

What if every person
gets the same amount of heartbeats
And every minute filled with stress
anger or
even excitement
will take seconds of your life?

All I know is I would fall
in love with you anyway.

I realised something last night
About how I can
learn from my mistakes
and maybe even correct them
how I can grow and
stand up and
carry on
But after more than 10 years it
still all comes down to
*Darling
Don't leave me

I feel tingles everywhere,
everytime I find the toiletseat up.

They fell in love through summer.
Did too much foolish things.
Now snort it from my ****.
And
Let's do two at a time!

During autumn,
she cried sometimes.
But he held her.
Nothing will happen.
She started to believe him and
his careless state of mind.
  
Only now that winter is
coming down on them,
the cold air makes her scared.
You have no idea how ****** up I am.

Two seasons, never more or less.
Two seasons, time for aching chests.

I know I'm not the easiest
Sometimes I cry or yell
I compare you to every **** I know
And kick you out your shell
I freak out over little things
And manicly make up
But the more I ****** ***** at you
The more I fall in love

Never have I walked as long as
the walk home with the image
of you waiting in my bed
in my head.

Honey,
I think they stole the moon.

Two long and thin legs,
wrapped tight in see-through fabric.
Her walk was destructing and suspicious,
never looked you in the eye.
Her hair was a faded version of the red it used to be,
and her eyes rested deeper
and cold.
She always wore one hand in her pocket,
firmly holding a key.
Just in case, she said.
Those things happen.
Not one person in town had never seen her
with a plastic bag
or a cigarette.
Not a single person hadn't seen her walk.
Only never towards home.

From all the things that might go wrong,
all the cheating or the
it just doesn't feel the same's.
With every cry and fight and awkward silence,
every fakes ******,
every what the **** is wrong with you.
Every why did you,
what did she,
how could you.
For every fall and break and end,
I am thankfull that it's you.

The tip of his nose to mine,
as our hips moved towards and away.
My arm around his shoulders,
his fingers in my hair.
As he tried to get up to finish,
I automaticly pulled him back in and
cried out:
Stay with me!
He did,
pressed his body against me,
but somehow both of us knew
I wasn't talking about ***.

Sometimes it takes me three days alone,
Half of a bottle,
A minute with him.

To find that we can choose misery,
Or euphoria,
In anything.

I like the sight of my room
With your pants on the ground
And my bed looks more comfortable
With you (slightly snorting and) rolling around
Somehow your body makes my skin look healthy,
******* are out of this world when you help me,
My clothes fit me better when you say you like them,
My ******* seem to grow every second you strike them,
My jokes aren't stupid when I see you smile,
Worries aren't worries when you talk for a while,

I guess the point of what I'm trying to say,
Is that I like having you here, so please stay.

He never asks about the past,
even when it'd be okay.
He reads me like a post-it note,
but patiently he waits.
He sees and grabs me, guides me home,
but he never asks what's wrong.
As he comforts me and I say I'm fine,
he holds me, plays along.

(I want to tell him everything,
but not a single word sounds right)

No matter what happens during the day,
I think about how I'll tell you.
And everything I do,
I want you to see.

I often think of how we walk.
My hand on your left side,
yours resting on my shoulders.

Or how we sit.
Two bottles of wine on the table.
We talk untill the tears are no longer able to wash away with alcohol.
And than you do not comfort me.
As you and I both know,
I find comfort in just being there
with you.

Sometimes I quickly think of you.
Sometimes in bed,
on a party,
always shortly in the kitchen.
And I know I won't be finished living,
untill there's someone loving me
the same amount I love you now.

We strip down to our souls.
And we wear softer voices,
as we lay
imprisoned in bodies and sheets.
We rest our heads on the idea of safety and
we warm our hands on affection.
Your lips melt deep into my skin,
as my fingertips burn through yours.
Tangle me with words and whispers,
which I can not hear
but understand.
And I will try and do anything
to stop the world from shifting for even a minute,
just to lie with you one more.

I found a picture of our family
about thirteen years ago.
You look at us
with pride and love.
Yesterday I saw you walking around your house
and I couldn't help but wonder
What has happened within those years
that made you lost your strength?
Who transformed you from
strongest woman I knew
to
exhausted and scared?

We all have the right to choose
our own way to misery.

I saw a chimpanzee baby,
getting raised by a dog.
I saw an elderly man
cut his food for his uncapable wife
and
I saw a young couple looking at them
wanting to grow old together just the same.
I saw my mother
taking care of her new baby
now we have grown up.
I saw my uncle taking care of me
(He knows we haven't).
A woman trying to find a childs new home.
A child saving an ant from death.
And a boy replacing a girl's bad memories with good ones.
It reminds me, that it's not so bad.

I adore you.
The freckle just below your right eye.
How you are able to make eating taco's in a onesy with sauce all over my face feel like a date.
I adore your stupid selfies,
the cat sounds you make.
(I'm even starting to like all of your stamp tattoos.)
I adore your ****. And how you feel like you shouldn't like it when I touch it.
I adore how you adore your friends.
How you held me last night.

I adore everything I find out about you, and I hate it that I do.

I hate how little I hate you.
It's gonna hurt.

Hey dad,
I will be turning eightteen next week.
You probably don't know that.
I'm doing good you know.
I found a house and a study I like.
And a boy who maybe likes me.
I got used to my anxiety attacks,
so the last few times I wasn't terrified.
I have a man in my life,
who replaces you.
And he makes me a happier girl.
I think I even know how to deal with mom.

Everything's great, dad.
But still I wonder if you think about me
as much as I hurt by you.

You trace my skin with your eyes,
And your lips follow.
(My body tenses)
Up my breast, down my spine,
Thigh, mouth, thigh, neck, oh ****.
(Try to breathe)
You shower me with kisses
And you hold me with your smile.
I feel you. We are the same.
You sleep with at least one inch against me.
(You held my hand when we walked home)
You care.

I give up, I'm in love.

Take me to your island and
wrap me with your words
or hands and write mine
down
in inkt on your skin.
Pull me back and forth up and
down
untill I dance in fear and
can only find shelter in you.
Lock me to your arms or
your arms to me give me
all the invisible strength.
Use me as long as there's something and
leave me come back.
Steal me from myself and loose me.
But whatever you do love,
please don't break my heart.

No madame, I refuse
to do this one more time.
By the sight of my eyes on him
I can feel a danger coming.
I will not let a man, so beautiful,
destroy me once again.
Madame, please help me
for I am afraid.
I don't want him to break my bones
with every kiss he plants.
For he can make me take my weapons off
with the sparkle in his eye.
Madame, please, don't let me
do this one more time.
For I will not let the man go,
But he will not be mine.

To me
there is nothing
as terrifying as the
sudden feeling of a hand
on the outside of my lower leg.
Nothing scares me more than
a sudden realisation of
how beautiful he is to me.
Or his eyes who shift
from lust to love
and tell me
that I'm handsome.

Horror is my heart
as I fall in love with you.

The candles in my window have melted.
That's no big deal, I don't remember  the last time they were romanticising this room.
The streets are dry, the people here aren't used to it.
They live on the edge of sleep,
stopped eating two weeks ago.
Nobody touch me.

Untill suddenly the clouds shatter on our roof.

To be completely honest,
some days I purposely lean towards the things that trigger my crazy.
Because you see,
after a certain amount of years,
one can get used to the cold air in one's neck,
or the dellusional ideas.
(I'm going mad. My body's here but I am not really experiencing this moment.)
It has become a familiar, but still terrifying place.
On days like today I am too curious, if maybe I can still visit it.
And every single time I find out I can easily,
but it's much harder to leave.

I know
you would have
accepted my father day gifts
so I didn't have to cry every year in class.
And you would have never
let me leave the house like this.
I know you would have helped
when mom was too busy
******* a plummer
and my anxiety first popped up.
I know.
You'd have kept the bad boys away,
and taught me how to be strong.
I know you'd have told me about
self-respect
if you had only been here.

They taught us to swim to the dark.
And that anything more than *******
is a fetish, and fetishes are grose.
Never run with something in your mouth,
never leave your room empty-handed,
never touch yourself.
Do what makes you rich, not happy.
And be a feminist, but make sure you spoil your husband,
cause when he cheats it's your fault.
Wear **** underwear from lace
under your knee-long skirt.
And no matter what happens,
swim to the dark.

So i might be a little drunk
And a little dramatic
But next week im moving out
To create something i need
A safer home than this place
Cause it stinks
Like old pains and forgotten promise
And we never washed the sheets
In which we always cried and ******
And fought and ******
But hey
I like it

She's too tired to walk,
so I carry her home.
Her soft face touches my neck
as I kiss
and kiss
and kiss
her.
She sometimes yawns,
or lets out a silent wheep.
And I am flattered by the
looks the people give me.
I remember when
I was in her place
in my mother's arms
(Only I was
pretending to sleep).
I envy her.

I seem to fail
in finding his love
in the arms of
the boys I ****.

Because
even though they want me
like you never did
they leave me
just the same.

And maybe freud was right.
I am looking for a guy
just as scary as you,
just as crazy.
Because the only male attention
younger me got
was the hurting kind.

I miss your twelve inches.
The dimples in your chin,
When you were guessing if I was kidding.
(Hungover questions like
Did we have *** last night?)
I miss your O-face,
And the fact you only pulled it for me.
I never fell in love with you,
Only with your absence.

You taught me so much.
I ****** a guy last week.
I didn't moan for his pride.
I just let him release me,
but not shower that night.

You should see what I learned.
I needed attention,
then turned down the sweet guy.
And his tears did not shake me.
I got bored of his cries.

I am proud to say that
my weakness has passed.
For this time is real,
I am not made of water
no longer, I'm steel.

He never gave us one cent.
Some months we had no light and we pretended that we liked using just candles.

Mommy, he's asleep.

She worked for two.
We only got ourselves in more debts.

Where's his jacket?
In the hall.

We hadn't seen him in years,
I had guessed what he looked like.

Are we really gonna do this?

He bought us a bottle of something we didn't like,
thank drank it and passed out.

Yes, we need it.

He had a stack of hundred dollar bills in his pocket.
He always said he was a business man,
but nobody had ever seen him work

Do you think this is enough?

He never gave us one cent.
We never took one from him.

How do I write down
the facts
of the nine year old me,
shivering at night
at the thought of his eyes.
How do I tell a stranger
without any tears
that he can't be a father,
never could, never will.
These words get stuck
halfway my throat,
and the awkward feeling
grows.
Everytime I try,
second time
I see him go.

On some days she dances
and sings
it sounds terrible,
but it looks sweet
and careless.
She holds me and calls me
her sister-figure,
and I just follow her
with my eyes and
hold on to the moment
with every muscle that I own.

Some days her eyes remind me
of the last time I saw him.
They're not hers,
and she does things that nobody
understands
and she scares me.

Some days she breaks down
and lies crying
and screaming
next to our feet.
And she lets us touch her
to pick her up,
and for a moment I see her
as she is.

She is a lot of things.
Just as crazy
as unhappy.

She lies against him.
Washes his skin with her mouth.
He sleeps.
Sometimes he pushes her eager lips away
and she's hurt for some seconds,
than carries on
licking.
She tries to crawl as close as she can
into his warmth,
he doesn't even notice.
He's dreaming about a world
where every bird is slow
and every human lets him eat their meat.

One was filled with revenge and lust.
I released it in his bare chest,
with my legs wrapped around his waist
and my hair soaked in sweat tingling his face.

One I shot a lady with. On the right side of her head.
She cried. Her body was exposed but protected by the layers of foam,
floating around us.
Her back rested on my breast when I pulled the trigger.
I did it out of love.

I never saw a place like this.
With so many homeless people, junkies.
Every bench contains a hobo,
blurred ink on swollen vains.
Hasty tags fill the ******-on walls.
Eyes shoot through these streets,
dull, no spark of hope nor happiness.
Beautiful men without teeth,
digging through my garbage.
Sunken mouths and hollow hearts.

It surprises me,
how many times you still visit my thoughts.
I must have loved you.
Your stupid, arrogant talks,
as if you knew everything about **** and training.
Your white-trash romance,
that time you stood in front of my house,
a picked flower in one hand
a stolen tray of sushi in the other.
I loved the idea of us.
Teenage love, strong and
I know now, also short.
Our first **** on too much speed,
your friend in the same room
passed out and puking.
I didn't mind us fighting,
though I would have never admitted.
Familiar,
suitable for the Bonnie and Clyde thing
I wanted.
I liked waiting for you
worried
when you went out to paint at night.

But then, we went from trailer trash lovers
to bits of things we used to do,
in less than a second.

We live in fear
for nothing
and I wish
I could just see this
not say this.

We had a conversation
like one we did not have for years.
I looked at us
driving on the highway
in the wrong direction
in our ****** blue car,
and I realised:
in this conversation we were
finally
not talking
but listening.