For the past two months
I've been running away scared
After carefully coming closer
And I swore this was the last time
But all the chaos in my world
Tumbles down in so much grace
Everytime it is silenced by your calm voice
For a last "sleep well, my love".

What would be the point of love
When we wouldn't face it
Naked
And ready to let it break us into a million pieces
Give it all the freedom to destroy us
Because we know how beautiful tragedy can be

If living wasn't fearless
It'd just be running out of breathes..

He thought he could fix her
But he would always forget
She had to feel her own skin
Everytime he held her hands

The planets are aligned
The stars are in their place
And the circumstances could not have been more favorable

You and I, my love
We were meant to be
Elsewhere

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.

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.

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.

He's an artist
The way he paints
With bite marks and hickeys
On my goosebump canvas

I am slowly *******
Last night I took out my metal
For I could not stand the weight
During years now
Am I washing off smeared make-up from my face
I think it's beginning to show my skin
Sometimes I speak and the echo brings my own voice back to me
It sounds so much calmer than I remembered
My hair has been growing back its color
It tickles on my shoulders

I'm getting there
It's terribly slow and difficult
But I think I'm finding myself

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

I am an addict.

Every picture of my childhood shows me holding a man or a man holding me.
They thought it was cute.
Twelve birthdays later he still never showed
and they don't think it is cute no more.
They're right.
It's desperate.

But isn't the point of getting sober to find happiness.
Well I'm sober now.
And I know the only thing right now that can fix me

is the dark hairs on the back of a hand or
that smell they all wear.

And if it's true that we always stay addicted,
I am ******.

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.

I am a hurricane.
My world is this ***** of emotions
on a saturdaynight with the vague taste of ***** and caramel.
All of my relationships smell like bodyfluids
latex with the fake taste of strawberries or chocolate.
My last wednesday consisted of two jobs, two bottles and no sleep.
It's how I like my days.
The people who were supposed to raise me snorted more than I ever will.

I am a hurricane.
In my eye, you stand.

I remember her
Running up and down the bridge next to our house at midnight
I remember her screaming
I remember her body, almost lifeless, as we tried to pull her out of bed every morning
I remember all the things that were said when she wasn't around to hear
I remember agreeing with them, then hating myself for it
I remember the back of her head on a staircase when I was twelve
I remember her diaries
Our mother crying while asking me for advice

I remember all the bad days
Bur I cannot find the one that quenched her fire
The one that made her whist

But every night I fall into
Sleepstained dreaming
And with every hour
Another layer falls off of me
One made of strength
One of resistance
I am undressed as the sun chases the moon back
Into another illuminated day
One made of fear
One of identity
I don't know whether losing them
Feels lighter or more heavy
The truth presses on me now
And it's impossible to ignore
One made of hope
One of idealism

I am naked
My cold skin is unprotected
If there is sun, I can see
When it rains, I weep
But I find every morning
That if there is silence
And my layers aren't there to mask
I am darkness
Pure darkness
Waiting for dawn to come

There were nights where she would stay up
Reading soultearing poems just to feel something
And ****, did she feel something

She felt gravity pushing on her
Filling every space for oxygen
Like dirt on a casket

She felt the way the earth rotated
And moved through the galaxy
As the moon continuously
Played with the tide of the seven seas

She felt a kind of hunger
That made her sick
A type of fear
Thats not worth fighting
And war

She'd rip her heart out
And her soul to pieces
Just to feel a glimpse of love

Sometimes I get so positive
I scare myself to death.
I see beauty that does not excist
and I feel loved
by people who have never loved anything before.
I have fallen for the most terrible men,
I felt at home in the most hatefull families,
and now I look at you
and I see the best in you
even though you never did.

I'm a victim of my own optimism.

Anything, to feel nothing.

I used to wake up, six in the morning. Just enough time to smoke one before class.
Made me feel nothing for about two years.
Till my chimeras found me, through my buzz.
Tried pills, didn't work the way I planned.
First time in my life I felt even more than I was used to.
Got scared.
Maybe there is no medicin.
So the shrink gave me some medicin.
Made me numb for about six months.
Untill I lost my believes in placebo.
Tried ******* my feelings out.
Dug up some more issues.

And now, I've been sitting here, for the last two hours.
Staring at my wall.
It tells me in a foreign language that I am strong.
I painted that ****. I believed in it.
I'm not a bit stronger than the substances inside me.

I don't know. Either you gave me a million kisses. Your lips barely touched my skin, but I felt them. Oh, I felt them everywhere. Or you grabbed my neck and stuck your tongue inside me. And I just excisted in that moment, guided by your mouth. I can´t remember if you held my hand and I felt comfort, or you pinned my hands against the wall, and I felt passion. Did we make love or sins? I seem to keep forgetting, what is lust and what is tenderness.

I blame you, dad
For all the ****** up things I do to myself
I blame you for the meds I take
I blame you for the guys I choose
I blame you for everytime I fall in love and every anxiety attack
I blame you when my body starts to tell me that I'm wrong
I blame you for all this ****
For me desperately loving my uncle
Untill the point that I'm terrified that maybe
Just maybe
He doesn't like everything about me
Just like I do with every ******* guy
And I blame you
I wish you were different
And here
I wish you'd just think of these things
And care
Just a little
But you don't
And I can't figure out how you do that
So I blame you

Today I heard two men talk about how their daughters changed their lives.
One of them said he would never leave his life with her,
no matter how hard it can get.
The other one agreed.

I wondered, how could he?

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.

If you would read my poems
and ask what they're about,
I would lie
and say
not you.

I know you didn't mean to lock me out last night,
and you were just a little too drunk and forgot about your daughter.
But it seems that you're the only mother in this town, who ever did.
I also know, you don't mean it when you say those nasty things.
You don't think I'm a failure, and you do love me.
But still it hurts to hear them, mom.
I understand you've always worked hard for us.
And now you need some time for yourself.
But you see, after seventeen years you can't just stop being a parent.
I still need you sometimes.
I know she always needed your attention more than I did.
I know I was the quiet one, with not that many problems.
But mom, the only reason I was never loud, was for you.
And I did need your attention, your time.
I was scared too, and sad.
He left me too, mom, and you keep forgetting.

It's not the distance, it's the darkness. Dark days have always been there, for as long as I remember. And I've been trying to stop calling them a flaw, or part of some disorder, or the consequence of past trauma. I am trying to accept them as part of what makes me whole. Use them to develop the light days. To feel those harder and with a more open heart. I don't want to spend my life waiting to feel less. It's hurtfull to think my emotions are connected to the years I have lived. What if I prefer to never become numb? I just need to find the ones that will not be scared to drown in my depths. The ones that will not try to fix me, but stare in awe at my wholeness. That do not try to shine light on the dark days, nor close the windows when it's bright. I need to find a love, so unconditional, that it'd rather I dissolve into my own darkness than loose myself trying to fix it. I need to find it within myself, within my depths, or turn to dust while searching.

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.

Sometimes we do things
And we can't even understand why
But we do them
And we can never un-do them
So we wait
For time
To make it look less important
For love
To make us forget

I did something
And I couldn't even understand why
But I did it

I thought of love all this time as something
I had to find
So I spent my life searching
Just to watch it leave

And then him
He didn't just love me
He remindend me
I was never anything but love

A cigarette burnt my hand
And you were there tonight
My first thought was not
You're so beautiful
But a less desperate
How the **** should I act
And it still hurts
But I guess I'm moving
Right

This is exorcism.

I walk from home to school from work back home and my eyes stopped changing shades.

All kinds of demons try to get out of me as I stare to nothing in particular and it scares me.

I would fight or run if only I had the energy. Or the courage. Or the fear.

My eyes used to change shades.

You still take my breathe sometimes,
and my mouth craves to speak all the vowels of your name.
Oh how the memory of your touch still echos through this town and all drunken dark alleys always lead to your voice.

If I could go back I would have never met you because all we learned this time is that life was still a *****,
no matter how well you mean or how hard you try or how sincere it feels.

I'd give so much to erase you and your ghost that's watching over everything I do.
Sometimes I find it staring at me or whispering terrible things to my mind at night.
You were good for nothing, not a lesson learned.
Everytime I pass that balcony my heart forgets to beat.
I still spend hours fighting feelings that were supposed to be long gone and (godverdomme ik mis je)

And it just won't stop

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.

You are not broken
He said
You are whole
And you are amazing

And right there, I believed him
I could see a glimpse of myself through his eyes
Powerful and soft all at once

You are not afraid to live
You are not afraid to féél*

And he was right
For once I had been scared
But right there I existed out of nothing but
What I felt for this man

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.

If I could I would have hidden the pills and never wear my robe.

Is that why you left, baby?

I could have closed my eyes on nights like this instead of latching onto you.

Would that make you stay, darlin?

I should have laughed at none of your jokes, nor cried at all your kisses.
Let your hand go in public.
Take your t-shirt off.
Left.

I could have tried to love you less, would you still love me, honey?

I stopped writing the day I left you
Because with 1300 miles to seperate us
I am slowly forgetting what it feels like
To feel gravity pushing on me through your body
Or to hear you whisper me to sleep

I quit singing in the shower
The moment I got on that plane
Because no bathroom echoes the way yours does
And no water can rinse you into me

I've been turning into something since that day
Something not made of my particles
And I think it has to do with
Them still sticking to your skin

The first day we met
she wrote about me in her diary.
She liked my shoes
and that I smoked too.

They had warned me about her.
Stories in the paper of a young girl in a coma.
It fascinated me.
Nobody thought we'd stay friends.

But we did.

This one time, she snapped at me.
I made a promise to myself that night.
I would never forgive her.

But I did.

Lately she's been seeing things.
Nobody else can see them.
A fake smile of mine, a dishonest joke.
It makes me feel secure.
Last sunday she kept saying
how good I looked that day.
It makes me feel beautiful.

The chances are we'll grow apart.
Never think of one another.

**But I like to think we won't.

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.