black coffee

dry wine

the sour sting
of waking up with love
troublesome and futile
mingled with sweetness
of knowing what the poets talked about

wish i could feel enough
for the world
that always seems to
need more than i can give

wish the world
could feel enough
the way it is
with me

i put so much of me
into things that
don't generate interest
can't find none of me
for your available arms

i want to turn to light
i want to travel the wide wide skies
i want to fall down on every face i love
with the last warm evening ray of sunshine

i want to rush
into the person i can be
crash
against each person that i see
i might
be keen to choke
on all the things i thought i'd never get
i want to cram
the time i wasted
between the minutes as they go
reset

you didn't ask what was wrong
but this time that was fine
you just waited
a minute and an hour
until i got it right
'the safer i feel
the less safe i feel
- do you understand?'
i think you did somehow

appreciate the small revelations
like coming back
to parts of you that were dormant
to hear them sing in new harmonies
with all of you that has changed

eyes fill with tears
not really out of sadness
it's more like
i haven't slept tonight
and sometimes that will do it
or maybe sadness is always just
right there beneath my eyelids
seeps out when they're open too long
i called my mother and she said
cry child
cry for whatever works
cry for the women
in sweatshops in bangladesh

i cry for them and i cry for me

don't
walk in the forests
the forests are not made for walking
don't
visit your friends
your friends will be fine without talking
don't
buy too much sigh too much want too much
don't cry why
don't scream or shout when they come
take your rights don't defy
and when the world
spins like a carousel
and rotational force
throws you out on your ***
under no circumstance be late
to your online class

i am still proud
of hiding it
of pursing my lips
and starving it
the need to be seen
and held at my worst
until i know
how bad my worst
can get

wish someone would overanalyze
the things i do and feel
(just once)
the way i do with everyone else

let's talk about death
to feel alive
don't think it
be it
be you, the rotting corpse
or the brain that forgot
that it is a brain
whatever scares you more

which is it,
the end
or the slow long wait for it?

it's happening
on the timescale of the universe
it's almost happening now

and it will be you out there
did you know, that on a neural level
we think of our future selves
as if they were someone else?
but it will be you out there

and it will be me out there
and i know no other way around it
than to try to reach you now
to see if you're just like me
because we will all die alone
there is no way around it
the best you could hope for is
that feeling when friends
walk you to the dentist
and at some point
they have to stay outside

but could we not be alone
now?

aren't you here?
aren't you afraid?
don't you want to hold
somebody's hand?

on a quantum level
the act of observing
changes that which is observed

i felt it work
on macro scale
seen through your eyes i have wings

i ask 'show me how you're broken'
expecting to be kicked out for my insolence
you show me how you're broken
i'm kicked in the guts

i always wish to fix
every little thing i see
but we're all messed up differently
and love is only one of the steps
in the lacking repair manual

i'm waves and i crash
wanting to crush crush crush
hold on tight
i just might
devastate all i see drag it down
rushing as things are left on the ground
as some run later than they should run
i'll be screaming along having fun
and no pity is left in the wake
when i break and i shake and i take
i will make you look at me with awe
and i'll go

i'm on my way
i'm on my way to you
i sit and watch through the window
as grass is turning greener
with every kilometer
less from where you are

she took me by the hand
and lead me through the crowded club
from where the air was stagnant
with uncertainty
into reality

i want to talk about you
to everyone i know
i want to shut my mouth
and keep you to myself
my heart flares up
explodes with thoughts of you
and i can't catch the words
and i can't catch my breath

she wakes me up
in the morning
with a sharp tug
saying
there are fire alarms
ringing
the monsters under the bed are
singing
she touches my face and it is
stinging
digs in her nails and i am
clinging
to her as she devours me
bringing
the fear much closer every
blink
it gets inside me i can't
think
the world around me seems to
shrink
i'm centimeters from the
brink
the cliff is steep the water deep i'll
sink
she looks at me again gives me a
wink
it's just a morning
just an empty room
just me in bed alone
ripping myself open
for monday

we all feel our sadness
is the most special sadness
felt by anyone in the world

statistically it's probably pretty basic

november is an exercise in trust
we sit inside and through the windows
we watch things die
never quite sure if this time too
they will return

your laughter on the phone
is like a sunflower
turning its face towards me
in an open field
and the specific way
you say my name
carries within
the warmth of all we've been

some people say
if it didn't work out
it wasn't meant to be

but take it from someone
who could write a phd
on letting people leave

maybe sometimes
the worthwhile thing
is the fight for it

when you sang with me
so loud and off-key to the sad songs
i loved you so much my heart could burst
what a fool, he who wouldn't love you too
what a privilege to be with you like this
thanks for being this soft with me
in this world where softness is a risky bet

it's not that i'm afraid
of how you will react
the words just
scar my skin
as they leave my mouth

i heard you hum
a silly song
i couldn't see
the sound waves in the air
but i felt them pass right through me
as if i were a rock in a mountain stream
as if i were a meadow in the spring rain

they say everything in life is
t e  m   p    o     r      a       r        y
but,
so far,
not my desire,
to. go. against. the. flow.

weird how some people say rats stink
they clearly smell like love
like quiet squeaks and laughter
like the soft to the touch feeling
of us becoming friends

i'm watching myself
unfold
i try to stuff
what's falling out
inside
maybe i
can go for
one more week
maybe then
i'll feel i earned
a sigh

i'm holding it all in my hands
like it's something fragile
your words your smiles your open arms your knowing
of me my soft spots bus times eating habits
wrapped as with wool in easy sentences
like next week usual time

i'm holding it all in my hands
along with bags of groceries
of duties plans calendars filled with
names of people wanting things and
giving things that i forgot at home
or i will lose tomorrow

i see an apple fall out of the bag
i'm holding it all in my hands
not enough hands to hold it in a way
that makes it safe from shattering
if i trip on the sidewalk and find myself
with no one there to catch me

i let the apple roll down the street
for someone else to trip on
won't risk dropping the now in my hands
hoping in thanks it might whisper
don't worry honey i'm yours
i'm yours i'm yours to keep

consider this:
maybe you don't have to be perfect all the time

i consider
but
god,
perfection tastes so sweet
it's all or nothing, usually nothing
but when it's all
then no one does perfection as perfectly as me

i picture you sometimes
all real and breathing as you write to me
your fingers tapping on the screen
your fingers

i think of what i almost tell you
i think of what i'd maybe do

i'd kiss your body through your clothes
so we can both prolong the yearning

i relish in it
this hard time
i live with it
in my mouth
and its weight
on my shoulders

we walk together
less towards
the finish line
more towards
an understanding:
this is how
you prepare
for the hard things
yet to come

maybe someday
i won't be filled
with dread
after every choice
waiting to wake
in cold sweat
forced to hear that voice
that whispers
baby
don't pretend
you believe that
this can end
we'll trade old fears
for new fears
and bless new years
with fresh tears
that's just our way

sometimes i let it go
i'm disentangled
i listen to the wind
i mourn the things i haven't lost yet

and when you said
'i'll never abandon you'
it wasn't a promise
it was just an off-hand remark
and it wasn't true
because what can we know of forever
when we supposedly become
someone new every seven years

but the lie echoed in the kitchen
as you poured my cup of tea
causing resonance in places where i keep
the most desperate things i wish to hear

possibilities dancing
on the tips of my eyelashes
will you be there when
i open my eyes?
you move so
ethereally
and now you're close so
suddenly
unexpected new shining
with all that can be uncovered
are you shy?
are you looking
for something
you're not quite sure
you'll recognize?

there are stars
oh, twinkling stars in her eyes
gust of wind in her hair
and her laugh,
not just hers, but mine too,
since i brought it out
with some stupid joke,
her laugh washes over me
and makes me lose my breath
- the gentlest tsunami wave

i know this hurricane
we've been here before
different versions of me in different suits of skin
with some of the lies written in different colors
in hail and rain and snow

it's comforting, in a way
when it's here at least the wait is over
and i know exactly how things work here
i can look for all that's left in the whirlwind
and find my legs and arms and phone and a cup of tea

and i am calm
calm in the only way that feels permanent
because there's nothing to protect anymore and i am absolved
and i can just sit back and listen
to my mind mimicking the sounds of thunder

all i want from this world
is to love the people in it
and to be loved sometimes
it doesn't have to be beautiful people
or a pure love
i'll take the messy, ugly kind
one that will match mine

tinder girls
on my mind
give me something
i can't find
in the wild
out in here
give me something
less unclear
tinder girls
meet me now
look inside me
show me how
tinder girl
kiss my fear
feed my hunger
disappear

i know you will listen
i can't know what you'll hear
i'm still learning how to talk
outside of a space suit
and sometimes i feel like a shell
or an actor
or a hundred greedy hands
reaching for something
and grasping vacuum

just me and my ****
with spinach, tomato and loneliness filling
what is this sad housewife feeling?
i'll call it 'the trying-too-hard ****'
we were supposed to hang out
but you have a hangover?
you text and now there's no one coming over?
i'm too young to sit here and wonder why i bother
if this is how sad housewives live
i think i'll eat it with my mother

i am a graveyard of withered bouquets
of "writing..." dots in unsent texts
i am a house of cards of daydreams
a food bank of old birthday cakes

no real person can provide you with everything
no real person can provide you with everything

i don't want to be helpless
i don't want to be functional and gone
it's a difficult problem to optimize
the best heuristic so far has been a slightly romanticized approach

it goes like this:

i build my armour, but it's made of flowers
it's not as heavy
and i'm always ready to pick one and give to you and show you what's inside

i still have it in me to fight for it
to say that i believe they'll always grow back

you leave
you leave me spent
you leave me with
a bottle of wine
a bottle of wanting
i didn't want at all

you leave and
you never really do
how silly

to walk amongst sleepers
(early sleepers and
not enough sleepers)
on the way from
the six am bus

to mingle with them
and their serious business
with a head still full of
butterflies

to whisper quietly
into your cup of coffee:
are you also waiting
for someone
to ask

isn't this all such a farce?

you should appreciate your little victories
i do

for example today,
i conquered my telephone-phobia

if only you could see
my hands
valiantly reaching
to
call
off
that
dentist
appointment