A sunday.

I only pick daisies to let them wither in my back pocket, next to the winks and smiles from passerby’s. I’ve been waiting for a rainy autumn, but the days are still long and the parks crowded with lovers. I don’t blame them for watching the sunset. I wondered where my people were, the heartbreakers, the one-day-at-a-time, the reckless, the wilder ones. I wanted to be like them, even though I had always been at the wrong place at the wrong time. Maybe I was fooling myself, maybe I was lying to myself. Maybe all I ever needed was love, the sparks and the butterflies. You made me realize that. I thought I could never love someone so much it hurts, and it does and it aches and my body is built of rose petals. I’d be a hopeless¬†fight to dismantle the fireworks you set off inside my head. I’d be hopeless to love you and here I am, counting the days with the butterflies in the park.



my alcoholic astonishment
of backward brainwork
with characteristic coordination

take your daily drugs
with an extreme equal
of fulfilling fluids
for a greater glance
of hypnotic hallucinations

with our isolated ice-hart
we can’t justify judgement
those killing knives
and lingering letters
our mothers made
we can never neglect

our ordinary outside
and prentend posture
with a quiet quiver
of restless remorse

we sleep silently
and we’re terribly tired
which is an ugly understatement
of vulnerable visitors
of this worrying waitingroom
for an xtremely x-ray
of a youthful youngster
in her zombie zone


Do you have any idea what it feels like? maybe you do, maybe someone else does. People tell me I have a heavy heart, mostly just the weight of broken relations. I told you that I was scared of commitment, and I think I have never really understood what it meant. It is not only the fear of starting commitment, but the fear of letting your guards down. This nauseous feeling that gets you whenever it can, whether you are traveling home from work, taking a shower of lying in bed at night. My eyes tear up just thinking about it, the scariest part of committing is letting go. I have always been a strong person. I wouldn’t let anyone get in my way, and I would never let anyone hurt me. But you found your way in, I have fallen madly in love. And somehow these butterflies turn into bats – the flowers grow thorns. The idea of you not being here terrifies me to a point that I can’t even talk about it. I tend to ignore these negative thoughts. I do not miss you,¬†believe me that someday I will.

I will miss you, – but not today. please don’t let it be today.


Did you know I’m still fighting day in and out
Did you ever hear me scream and shout
Did you hear you’re the one thing I can’t live without
That is what my nightmare was about
I have been crying all throughout

We’re like midnight hearts
Between now and yesterday
I know this time we have gone to far
To far away

You don’t say anything much
You’re not so easy to touch

Why did you lock me out?