holding hands
braiding hairs
playing catch

that’s what we did!
until one day, she was weird.

…

my body is stained
stained to life
her hands will be forever carved
in my skin

i was a child

a child
mind so rich
but still
only wishes to be held

a father
father of a mind
a mind so rich
but still
he throws the mind away


little does he know he was never held.

manipulate me,
hold me in your arms—
‘i’ve got you,’ you say.

a moment later,
you take my arms,
slice away my flesh,
‘i’ll be back tomorrow.’

please do.
i can’t live without you.
my eyes see nothing,
nothing but you.

your arms, the same that
once cradled me,
have become knives.

the sun rises again,
my warmth
is it gone?
oh well

she spins,
spins to the song

her long dress
quietly dances to the rhythm
of the tambourines
glasses batting
and leather drums

she spins,
spins to the song

she looks up, calling them
then now she’ll be one of them
those who suffered
those with consumed lives

‘no, never alone.’
they whisper,
‘for now she has shown, never alone.’

your old life is no more
you are not a girl
you killed her
you killed a girl

waking up
feeling like her
cut your hair
silently you swear
that you’ll change
but isn’t it strange?

when will she die?
when will she die in me?
she always comes back
but my old life is no more

throughout the night
you scream with delight
from far away,
she hears you.

there’s a rain
made of glass

it’s still raining
at 20:42
is it raining for you too?

it’s still raining
why?
why is it still raining?

it’s ok.
it’s not bleeding yet.

illness
the one that kills
that one that you need pills
to make sure you don’t see those hills
that don’t even exist

illness
that one that MAKES you ****
that one that makes you addicted to your pill
that one that makes you see the hill
that doesn’t even exist

illness
the one that makes you ****
but the victim is yourself
the one that makes you needed of pills
that one that makes you stab yourself with quills
the one that thrills
the thrill of death

of your own.