Like a window smashed,
waxing accidental cracking of glass;
canyons mapped as light refracts fast,
captured through snapping fragments and gaps.
Hung unintact, procrastinating its shattered collapse,
stress tracks have the last laugh
as paths from impact form webs and traps.
Gilded, a net of gold wraps as fractured attack grasps
before being scattered and blackened to an abstract mass of countless unmatching halves.
Tangled, travelling passions cast into a savagely scratched mask;
mouth closed, asphyxiated, and afraid to gasp.

suffocated
by a strange
and dreamlike
state

unable
to breathe
because
is air even real,
anyway?

the ground
below
is made of
rubber
and i bounce
a bit
with every step

the sky above
is made of water
and when
i reach up,
i get wet

everything feels
thick
and dense
in front of me
like i can
barely even move

the light outside
is barely bright
and my mind
is so easy
to lose

there were
no
dreams
inside
my mind
last night

i floated
on top
of
a blank
black
pillow
of nothingness

there was
no
sound
and
no
light

i got to
experience
that lovely
emptiness
of
death

the sweet
taste
of
no breath

my heart
is already
dead
so
why not
slice
out
all the
thoughts
from
my head?

maybe
we could make
a sandwich
using
the meat
from my brain
and serve
everyone
a lunch
that would
help
make them
feel
insane

we could
give them all
a sample
we could
try to
let them
see

but even
if
they ate
my meats
they
couldn’t be
as
nuts
as me

And I think there are just too many things that break my heart, I fight too hard to stop from falling into pieces that I can't be spoken to, not even quietly.

There are too many people I've seen thoroughly, I can't separate myself from anything and I can't be looked at, not even briefly.

There are too many oceans, too deep to venture, no explorer will have courage enough to dip their toes in this water, and no one can touch me, not even kindly.

There are too many things that scare me now. I never leave from the bed I lay in and I can't be danced with, not even calmly.

There are too many ways to break my heart these days that I can't be moved, not even gently,

Not even at all.

You and I have danced for decades,
Stabbing me on the warpath as I giggled along,
You taught me to hate myself the most,
Way down to the vivisection of my soul;

Am I just shifting blame? Didn't I hold the knife too?
You gave it to me, I made it serrated and poisoned,
Hence why I'm venomous, uneven and stubborn,
Am I chaotic because I am or am I just unhealed?

I held your hand as you plunged it into me slow,
I thought you loved me, why else would you do it?
To be so obsessed and devoted to my destruction?
Isn't destruction just the beginning of creation?

It worries me that you don't leave, you keep the blade in,
Are you worried I'll bleed out or do you enjoy the misery?
Have I learnt to love you choiceless and mistaken?
Like the compass points north, the tall child feels comfort;

'A child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort'
Was I after all designed to be harmed or do I have a choice?
I'm not alone anymore though, I have my moon now,
She'll guide me home across the dark and quiet :)

could it be?

the chameleon!?

changing
suits
and
colored skin
shifting
time
and time
again
to try
and
blend
in
and
hide
from the
things
that
frighten
her
within

she
camouflages
well
while
trying
not
to
tell

trying
to
conceal
the
things
inside
that
she
does
outside
without
ever
realizing
what
life
even
is
besides
this
hell
and
sad
little
lie
that
has
hidden
her
so
well

i want to lick your brain

give me
just
the tiniest
taste

i won’t
let a
single
drop
of
your
brilliance
go to
waste

after all,
you’re
one
in
a
million
or
a
billion
or
whatever that
made up
number
is
that
children
use
to
express
that what
they’re feeling
is
the absolute
best

i’ll meet you on
the Hlíðarfjall
slopes
crossing
my fingers,
toes
and eyes
while hoping
for the most

one day,
maybe,
hopefully,
with wishful
thinking
and
pushing
and
planning
and maybe
a bit
(or more)
of sneaking
we
will be
beyond
these silly
dreams
and actually
be touching
side
by
side
with nothing
left
to
hide
because
we are
actually okay
with
ourselves
and
with
each other

this is just
a precursor
to what you will experience
if you’re around me
on a regular basis
i have days
where i am
just up
up
and
away

but then
i have days
where i am down,
down,
down

and then
i have days
where i’m up,
down,
up,
down,
right,
left,
sideways,
circles,
vibrations,
lost sight,
who am i,
where am i,
what am i even doing here,
what’s the point,
is life even real,
is this a simulation,
do i actually breathe,
am i just unknowingly on the Truman Show,
has anything ever existed,
do i exist right now,
what time is it,
why does my face itch,
what’s wrong with me,
what or who even are you,
where’d you come from,
where have you been all my life?

anyway,
i’m medicated.

who knows
if i’m being treated
for the right ****?
i’m still
nuttier than
a nutty buddy,
and i’ve been told by close friends
that i’m their
“nutty buddy”
but they really
don’t know
how accurate
that is

i’m just working on music,
while smoking
a lot
of ****,
drinking…
my usual amount of *****,
and thinking
about the past,
the present,
and the future
while trying
to make sure
i push
the less important things
out of the way
while i sort through my ****

and, by the way….

ég elska þig ❤️

i love you
in icelandic

i’ve been
slowly
and oh so
carefully
peeling away
layers of myself
like a lizard
shedding its skin
whenever it grows
a little bit

i keep
removing
the old stuff
the icky stuff
the stuff that
keeps me
awake
at night

i’m trying so hard
to find my way
to the light
where maybe
the sun
can help cauterize
my scars
maybe i
can have a chance
to be new
again

until i can rebuild
and renew
i am so grateful
that i can be myself
with you
that i can let
little bits of
the ugly
slip into
our conversation
and you won’t turn me away
you don’t run
when i
show how scary
i can be

thank you
for helping me
take the time
to learn who
i am
and
who i
want to
one day
be

brains are weird,
little mysteries
all filled with
countless, unique
stories,
thoughts,
and memories

jiggly,
squiggly blobs
filled
with everything
we’ll ever
and
never
be able to know

like a jellyfish
filled with random
philosophies,
daydreams,
scary things,
memories,
ideas and plans
and other stuff
that is frightening

gelatinous lil
chubby
blubs
of thought
driving every function,
every aspect of our lives
telling us
when to blink
what to want
how to breathe

i just wish
this stupid
thing in my skull
would shut up
sometimes
and

just

not

think