– ‘I take care of myself’

I threw a beer can next to the bin, I couldn’t stand up to go and get it. I locked my phone before he would reply. It would take at least an hour. I tried to get the knots out of my hair. I showered but didn’t wash it, I just let my skin burn.

He let me smoke his cigarettes until we both quit. Then the only thing we really did was have sex. He let me sleep over but I was gone by first daylight. We talked sometimes but I still don’t know his last name. He must have told, I must have forgotten it. I must not have cared enough.

I threw a beer can next to the bin, I couldn’t stand up to go and get it. My hand was still red from crushing the can, the color of love. I always loved the color grey, it wasn’t black nor white. It didn’t really matter, I didn’t really matter. I wasn’t special, I wasn’t extraordinary, I wasn’t ready to choose a side.

– ‘I am better off alone’


the least I could say pt 2

I’m still a bit lost on words. I don’t quite know how to describe you without doing you wrong. I still have some bad days, some darker moments. You still hold me when I’m at war with myself, you don’t try to fight it. You let me be, in silence. I think that letting each other be, is our strongest connection. Allowing someone to watch you at your weakest without handing them the power to fix you. Having faith in each others strength and having trust in letting our weakness shine trough. I adore you so much. I adore you when you’re strong, confident, when you speak with enthusiasm your eyes light up. You get comfortable so quick and you’re easy to like, I don’t blame them. I adore you when you’re at your weakest, you get surprised by your own feelings as you try to figure them out. I know you’re trying and stumbling but you’ve opened the gates to me, that’s all I could ask for. I adore you in the way you adore me. Because that’s what you do, you find good in anything. Your heart is so big and you let me hear it beat. You let me in. I adore you for that.

Days like these

It hurts to live without her but you got to do it. You have to wake up every morning and start breathing. Open the doors, brew coffee and be grateful. Realize what you have and have accomplished and what is left undiscovered. Sympathize with your siblings and stop fighting your parents over five dollars. Set yourself free, get out of the house and get lost, wonder. Feed your tiny little heart with beauty and surround yourself with your loved ones. We got once chance and we blew it. Own it, make up for lost time and find peace. Live and feel and breathe the morning air. Start again. Rise again. – things I should have told myself three months ago.

every time I say your name

‘stop before it is too late’
‘you aren’t in love’
‘we will never be together’
‘stop before it is too late’

As I try to bite my tears away I can taste the blood of my bottom lip, and I wash it away with alcohol. I have piles of empty winebottles at my backdoor, the door which isn’t locked anymore, because I’m still waiting for you to come back. My head is aching from the hangover, and all of the ones before. I thought it would help me forget your name, but I ended up forgetting mine first. My fingers have bruised from all of the writing, I still send you letters, but you stopped replying, you never did. I have nothing left of you, but every time I stare at the stars they call out your name. I see you everywhere I go, I can’t help but to look for you. Like a lost child desperate for his mother I look around me but nobody can bring me home again. I never felt home before I laid my head on your chest. I can still recall the way your heart beats like it was mine. But it never was mine. And that is why it hurts so bad. It hurts like raw cotton on burned skin. It is unbearable to think that I’ll never see you again. You were like early dandelions in the wintercold. You were brave and you we’re so strong. I has been an absolute privilege to walk by your side for a moment. A moment in which I finally felt warmth in my lungs again. But now it has blackened and I can’t breathe anymore. I cough up the ashes every time I say your name.

‘stop before it is too late’
‘she won’t hear you’
‘she never cared, she doesn’t need you’



I thought that it would be ‘fine’, or at least ‘okay’, but it wasn’t ‘fine’ nor ‘okay’, it was fucking terrible. It was this aching and persistent pain which I couldn’t get a hold of. It was the kind of heart break that leaves you wondering.. why why why why. And you’ll never get an honest answer so you begin blaming yourself. And when you begin blaming yourself you’re starting to realize that it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t my fault that she decided to leave. I was never the one to blame for the fact that we’re not speaking to each other anymore. I tried, I tried my best to make things work. I tried to give her space, I respected her feelings and her fears. But what I didn’t respect was the fact that I was never given a chance. She knew. She knew after all that it wouldn’t last longer than three weeks. Because she would give up and walk away. She would do anything to protect herself from being hurt again. She would rather keep her guards than to accept my love for her. Because I had so many stories about the stars in her eyes, but they dimmed on a cloudy evening. Because I had so many things I wanted to show her, but now I look for her in every crowded room. Because I had so many words I wanted to give to her, and now I spill them like red wine on a tablecloth.

Number 200

I was overthinking

I couldn’t find a way to express my feelings,
There were exiting incidents and terrible tragedies,
And I started writing, line by line
Expressing my thoughts, one by one
Growing with clarity, step by step
I was writing about time past
and time future, within a world of speculation
But within thousands of words
we never found time present
Sentences full of doubt and abstraction
Writing the words on time present
had never been the barrier
It was realizing, that we had never known
It was scratchings in the table
and phonenumbers on the wall
It was photos ripped in half
and memo’s gone missing
It was dirty footsteps
and a screaming mind
It was holding hands
and always letting go
It was never sparkling and pretty
and still it was so intriguing
It was love and pain
and battle-scars on the field
It was empty cold beds
and broken bones
It was finally finding home
and leaving everything behind
It was never that easy
and we never were prepared
We will find our way,
Until then,

I am overthinking
I speak for what I am,
I am the overthinking