#stockholm
There’s an illness from history’s pages
Which can even afflict the courageous
Beware of the syndrome
When visiting Stockholm
I’m told that it’s mildly contagious
There's a tome in the royal collection
Behind triple-pane glass for protection
If the legend is right
It was penned overnight
By a monk under Satan's direction
Jun 21, 2025
Jun 21, 2025 at 4:57 AM UTC
To fulfill a psychopath’s pleasurable dream while under psychological stress is rather an unorthodox way to keep your mind ******* on tight.
Oct 20, 2020
Oct 20, 2020 at 4:19 AM UTC
She followed me around, matching every step I took, every time I tripped, every inch I squeaked across laminated, tiled, grassed floors. She followed me through cornfields, though war, through the deserts of Saudi, through the alpine cliffs and tundra of the wintered northeast states. She followed me into the restrooms, and into my bed, where we whispered our dreams to one another, silently letting the hours pass as neither of us could muster a blink, only to express our undying love for one another. I couldn’t sleep with her there. She kept my eyes on her, and in moments I became ravenous, and sleep was found only once we were satisfied. That love was vapid, and that love was only a fragment. An expression of the true whole. My undying devotion to my love. My one, true love.
Her face was beautiful, pale, blue yet almost grey eyes, staring into the wall. Blonde, shaggy, unkempt but not unwashed hair fell a little below her shoulders. Those eyes looked so magnificently marvelous with the glint of our shared lamp on the edges of her eyes, the shiny reflections seemingly engulfing me in her wonder. And yet, as I pay attention, I know she has nothing in those eyes, and that beauty is a husk. For a brief moment I understand, and then once more, it is gone. Her beauty enraptures my soul once again, and I am lost amidst a dream of her love, her love so strong and deep and penetrating into a heart I thought had been broken long ago, rekindling what desire I had to continue trying to survive.
I stood up once again, but she bid me to sit down, as the show wasn't yet over. The inspiration she had just bestowed upon me would go to waste if he stayed, but after just a moment looking down into those corpse eyes, so wide and begging to be shut, I conceded and sat again. She kissed my nose, one for each nostril, giggled, and left. I love her. So much. I would do anything for her. I would die for her. I spend every minute of my day thinking of her. I worship her.
I can't forget her. I can't deny her. I can't refuse her. She feels like nothing in my arms, yet everything. I have no control. And I relish in these chains. Every moment I struggle is another **** she can mend. Every war I fight brings more scars to heal. Every catastrophe has her there, faithfully by my side, ready to cheer me up. I held her hand through all of those things, tightening my grip with every new anxiety, every new stress. Every new responsibility. Even as I stumbled she whispered in my ear, that she was still with me, and willing to be there forever.
Every time I fell, she helped me back up. She always knew the perfect thing to tell me. She was right on time to make up for any mistakes I made. She had a great eating schedule, and helped me get fit, like I never dreamed I could. She made me popular with the other girls, though; she was always jealous, and always kept herself for last and best. And, truly, I couldn't deny her, she was all I could ever dream for.
My dearest, every moment we are apart is torture to me and a slow death in its own way. Another minute of being so alone like this, without you by my side to keep me safe and warm, is terrifying to think of. I dream of walking outside and seeing you, there, ready for me, having been gone all these months, bright-eyed and beaming with joy, rushing up to me and folding your thin arms around me, crying about how you missed me so **** much. About how our life together would be eternal, until death. Marriage wasn’t important. What was important was your place in my heart. About how we could finally be back together.
Jun 28, 2020
Jun 28, 2020 at 9:45 PM UTC
Thinking about all the times I said yes
Just to make others happy
Now everyone seems to have forgotten
That my life is my own.
This is why they don't teach you to say no-
So that you can't say it to their face
When the time comes.
They've been raising me like a pig for slaughter.
I guess I should've known better.
Should've spoken up.
Should've acted out.
Should've stomped my feet and yelled "NO!"
Gotten a tattoo, smoked some ****
Said I'll do whatever the **** I need.
But no one ever told me
Being a good girl never does any good.
You just miss out on what the world has to offer
End up putting a stopper on your anger
Like trapping a genie in a bottle.
And guess what?
The genie ends up
Developing its own Stockholm Syndrome.
You get trained with treats like a dog
Sit, stay, fetch!
All the while putting a leash on your collar
When you're not looking.
It's a bit of a stretch, you say?
You're right.
Having a teen rebel phase in your twenties is not cool.
What can I say?
I've always been a little slow.
But now it feels like life is on hold forever.
I've handed the keys over
And locked myself in.
Within my head is no longer
A good place to escape to.
May 22, 2020
May 22, 2020 at 5:12 AM UTC
im free
im free from your chains and demands
but why do i feel hallow
what did you do to me?
everyone is a blur
and my mind works mechanically like clockwork
i end up reading our messages
i end up conjuring your scent
my mind draws places we've been on sketchpads
and my eyes look for the shade of your eyes
i wake up to the illusion of your arms around mine
and my lips tickle from lips that aren't there anymore
my mind is racing because there's no one to talk to
there's no one as interesting as you
what have you done to me?
why do i want to be your victim again?
Mar 16, 2020
Mar 16, 2020 at 6:31 PM UTC
Man får säga ibland
Att det finns skönhet som inte går att beskriva
När till och med en himmelsk strand
Skulle se gräslig ut om man skulle jämföra
Så länge jag bor här
Kommer det inte finnas något att klaga på
Vi är som ett par
Med två partiklar som möttes och blev oskiljaktiga
Jag har varit med dig i tre år nu
Och kärleken brinner fortfarande
Det är uppenbarligen jag och du
Och det är inget erbjudande
Det är hellre ett vackert oundvikligt löfte
Som skrevs med outplånligt bläck på ett häfte
Du ser ut som en mångfacetterad hydra
Som står ovanför en blå matta
Det känns så skönt att korsa dina broar
Och att gå vilse i kurvorna du har
Jag måste också prata om din gröna klänning
Som man inte kan undvika att smeka
Den absorberar solsken, släpper syre, får oss att leva
Och gör mig glad när jag kommer kring
Du är ljusare än solen under sommaren
Men mörkare än ett svart hål när vinter spränger dörren
Som regnet som får regnbågen att dyka upp
Uppskattar jag mörkret för då ser man norrsken
Samtidigt, brukar snö bygga upp
En vit rock som försvinner sen
Du var inte mitt första val från början
Men nu står du högst upp på listan
Jag behöver erkänna att jag är kär i dig
Trots att du inte ens är en riktig tjej.
Feb 18, 2020
Feb 18, 2020 at 12:37 PM UTC
<>
When he throws you at the wall,
and hugs you
and bites you
and screams in you
and kisses you,
let it be back then,
when she threw you on the floor,
and stomped your filling
and snapped your stitching
and sliced your corners
and kissed you.
<>
Tighten your throat
and you can go to bed again.
<>
Dec 10, 2019
Dec 10, 2019 at 7:47 PM UTC
Visit me in Stockholm
We'll be happy together
Locked up and stuck wherever
Stay with me
Forever
Dec 5, 2019
Dec 5, 2019 at 7:43 PM UTC
my dreams and aspirations
cannot be confined to this textbook
for it can’t teach me how to
walk the cobblestoned streets of stockholm,
surf the waters of bondi beach,
ride the canals of amsterdam,
nor hike the city of cinque terre.
but here i am, not knowing what the future holds in store for me,
just waiting for the time to come
of which i can experience
the joy that is to travel.
Oct 19, 2019
Oct 19, 2019 at 11:22 AM UTC
You were a story
of loneliness and woe
guilting me into loving you
or something close to it
Striking me down
with your own tempestuous explosion
Bruising me black and blue
bending me at your will
Tearing me apart
You stitched me up loving and tender
and worshiped my putrid words
You carried me worn and weary
from the weight of your passion
Blinding light
that burns the flesh
warms my soul
You have become my one and only truth
Jun 22, 2018
Jun 22, 2018 at 3:59 AM UTC
your "friends" that we meet,
i forget their names,
my calloused palms are greased,
by their squeezing hands
i remember one's a banker,
or he could have said a thief,
his ******** words were flanked,
by my misbelief
i was held hostage,
you were a smiling drone,
i remember when i lost
to Stockholm Syndrome
their Heirloom Suffix changes,
on tuxedos and trust funds,
my rental wears just fine,
i'm not the danger
shorting stocks on tuesday,
while playing ball in hand,
what a shame to lose me,
busted seams this man
I am not a banker,
I am not a saint,
I cannot to be trusted,
I won't place the blame.
I am not a proxy,
I am an astronaut,
But this distant world you live on,
Is far from my plot
May 28, 2018
May 28, 2018 at 9:04 PM UTC
Stockholm early evening.
She was with him
walking the City's streets.
A fight broke out
between two men nearby.
She screamed and hid
behind him.
He took note
and felt a poem
coming on.
The two men
circled each other
shouting out
in foreign tongue.
Benny moved
as the men moved
and she walked behind him
calling out "Stop fighting."
One had a knife
he had produced
from a pocket.
She screamed.
Benny took note
of the knife type
and how the man
held it and passed it
from hand to hand
like a conjuror's trick.
A crowd gathered
and voices called out.
The men circled
each other more.
A police car siren
droned in
and the men
dispersed in the crowd
and out of sight.
The police came
and the crowd spread out
revealing nothing.
Benny had his poem in mind
and she clutched his arm
with a sense of alarm.
Apr 16, 2018
Apr 16, 2018 at 2:56 AM UTC
The boy smiled
The girl flinches
As if the smile would disappear
She crossed
Fearing the bridge would collapse
She hesitated
...Took a breathe
Then looked again...
He disappeared
She lingered
Dec 29, 2017
Dec 29, 2017 at 1:59 PM UTC
''As I saw you standing there
Eyes teary amongst the mass
I took you in,,
''As I saw you standing there
My legs were shaking
You held me dear,,
''As I took you in
You never saw the daylight again,,
''As you took me in
I knew I was at home,,
Nov 23, 2017
Nov 23, 2017 at 7:18 AM UTC
Empty streets
Two souls
Filled with memories
Of the past
Our past ;
We have walked these streets before
Young and in love
Our entire lives ahead of us.
We knew everything back then
Until time taught us
Doubt everything.
I see these words for the first time
Though they have always been here
Long before my love of words,
I found.
Empty streets
A poetry reading
We have been here before
Why are we here once more ?
Jul 20, 2017
Jul 20, 2017 at 1:54 PM UTC
I realize things aren't getting better
We aren't getting better and freeze
Glaciers wrestling the rocks
Believing that somehow we can make this work
Even when you don't even want to
Even when you want to die
Even though we all want to give up all the luggage we carry
And give our tight shoulders a rest
And give in to the feelings of insecurities in our chest
We want to rot
But the truth is
Every day on the calendar isn't a number, it's your name
And I'm living for you
I'm sweating bullets at the sound of your gun
Maybe this wasn't love maybe it was all fun
But it's not funny anymore looking down your Barrel
Wondering if I'll ever know how to feel
And if my feelings were real
And if you'll be missing me while you hide my corpse
Jun 22, 2017
Jun 22, 2017 at 2:36 PM UTC
My love was the brutal and bitter kind,
frayed at the edges.
I gave it to giants and gods,
as giants and gods demanded.
Righteous was a fiction,
and I was only small.
My love had changed,
as I had changed,
and neither for the better.
Structural damage is done,
wear and tear on our souls,
worn and torn by far too much cruelty.
I have no indignation left,
and I hate the creature they have made of me.
May 6, 2017
May 6, 2017 at 7:28 AM UTC
Forever burns day by day
As I try to find my way
As I try to run from you
And find the only moon
But there is no running away
Not a chance I can escape
For you trapped my heart and brain
And threw the keys in Hell's depths...
Forever burns me day by day...
That firefly that I see flies away
And I try to hurry behind
For I fear to make myself suffer
For I seek to never hear you mutter
The light that shone burns out today
And the warm eyes that hurt me
I kneel before them and pray
As I can barely make myself breathe...
Forever burns me day by day...
You whisper those deadly words
And touch my heart with burning desire
As I collapse in Hell that you call home
I can barely see the sweetest smile
Raise me up in the skies closer to you
Lift me higher than the stars
And watch me fall as you breathe to me
The final words of the spell you've cast on me...
Your love burns my existence day and day...
Apr 3, 2017
Apr 3, 2017 at 2:55 AM UTC
i have this bad case of emotional abuse
honestly, all it does for me is serve to amuse
because have you ever let something so stupid happen?
all you can do is laugh at yourself for allowing it
i am the one hurting myself -
you you you
you've given me a bad case of emotional abuse
(and i let you)
Nov 30, 2016
Nov 30, 2016 at 2:57 AM UTC
Don’t let him use love as an excuse.
If he can’t love you without your knees on the ground and his hands on your neck,
then he doesn’t get to love you at all.
Oct 14, 2016
Oct 14, 2016 at 2:43 AM UTC
A conversation
I want to safety pin
your broken parts on mine
and make a mosaic,
Oh baby, it's only a
matter of time.
You're my captor,
no need to ask;
You have my heart.
Him say "Do you love me?"
I say "Is the sky blue?"
Baby I suffer chronic
stockholm syndrome
whenever I'm with you.
Sep 6, 2016
Sep 6, 2016 at 8:50 AM UTC
Gentle Stockholm, in my mind
Tender city with its laid-back ways…
Sun-kissed, snow covered days
A sleepy lover’s eyes along its bays
There I was, a foreigner
Gasping at the breathtaking view
A beauty simple and true
Learning to walk through
Its cobbled streets….
Singing and humming
To its sensual beats…
Like a lover, it strums my body
It’s fingers knowing all the cords
To play……
And I pray,
I swear, I will return
To this unforgettable place…
That has invaded the space
Of my peace
Like its trees…
with leaves of,
Green, yellow and brown
Four seasons of harmony
Boring holes through my senses…
It’s memory stored through the tenses…
Stockholm in the summer, winter season
Through the autumn’s rise and fall….
flowers bursting in bloom at spring's hall...
Always will I remember it’s
Echo’s call…..
Into my heart….
It will never part…
You broke the chains of
My sorrows…
Lending me the promise
Of many tomorrows,
Stockholm, gentle ,Stockholm
Sing to me your songs of life
Set me free
and make me see,
But never let me be…..
May 7, 2015
May 7, 2015 at 1:11 AM UTC