#deathlyhums

a crumbling repetition
of bones
sycophantic
the decorations on the inside
of my skin
an endless wishful thinking

quietly
the tram lines sing

bursting with
the emptiness of a
non-evening
a song

dyslectic steps
ballet
through puddles of defeat

metallic taste of blood
smashes all over
soles of feet
and tips of tongues

dripping
through wet
warm holes

digging tunnels of
preposterous hope
instead of mortar
bricks put together
with sadness and deceit

the hour howls

and so do all my restless
birds

condemned

to sleep

#mean(th)ing

suspended animation
the seamless fabric of existence
ruptured
in all attempts at hope
fissures
cats in windows
in houses
on streets
made of nothing
the disappearance act
performed by everyone
on the grand stage of life
get in screaming
get out swinging
swallow your anguish
wear a smile
press play
die
meaning
lost entirely
a mean thing
to the naked eye
the dressed eye
the sick, battered and bruised eye
absent, inexistent
an ocean of spit
pee the colour of bright pink grapefruit
acknowledging
the elephant in the room
an absurd task
when the room is in fact
a jungle
inhabited by a multitude of beasts
each of them a metaphor
an euphemism
for pain and fear
and death
such luck that we all share
this scarcity of joy
this sheer despair
our common unabated threat

#ellipsis

i rest my head, my case
my strangely weary bones
on lavender-scented garbage bags

some days
when everything blows
and there’s absolutely no
possibility of any air
going up my nose
the awkward silence of disappointment
lays bare

ubiquitous feathered creatures
sing on the same exact frequency
as the ringing in my ears

a stifled cough
chases me and the monkey on my back
demanding answers and explanations
to smother the wrath of fear
of death

grief is a multi headed monster
and denial is not a river in egypt
but a stream
running through my veins

pain is a sycophant concept
a constant as certain as change
life, an irrational digit
and i can only seem to exist
and to be able to breathe
in between two gusts of wind

#entropically

bouquets of tourniquets
have gone berserk
squeezing the breath out
of the shadows still roaming across
a badly painted copy of the earth

sickly announcements pour out
on the black ice
the swimmers have all drown
ice skaters renounce their joyous
parade
tonight with a frown

there’s nothing outside except
a dim shade,
of what was
and the tunnel,
oh the tunnel, endless and grim
at the end of it just a light
house
closed, like life itself
to the public

but denmark is fine, it’s just dandy,
the king might agree
what’s rotten today,
tomorrow and always
resides somewhere inside you
inside me

a joke, a charade
some rules of someone else’s game
the music of salt on a plain
pastures flooded by creeks

sounds of a purposelessness
anchored strongly
in a croqueted and dusty abyss
blast full of complete and total
adoration
for the verb of life,
currently conjugated in all forms
except the present

such a dream
such a gift

#lacking

burnt tongues
harvested from
prairies of the mind
lick envelopes
lacking content

an unapologetic growling gut
holds nothing
but a trace of a feeling
which can easily be mistaken
for a vocalized goosebump

lacking

the remains of the night
loiter on the freshly washed
morning streets

shivering sunrays pierce
through the asphalt’s cornea
like scythes
through wheat

possessed yet unencumbered
my sense of defeat
it pushes through
the texture of the world
made of cotton candy
and disembodied hope
a drop of caress
a sea of deceit

breathing in and out
an endless sigh
forever lacking

composing
new age nursery rhymes
to end it all
i coalesce

a heart is loudest
when it mourns
it’s always darkest
before dawn

#seemingly

at some point
some stories
simply disappear from
the story-telling world
they seem to have been picked at
until there was nothing left
not even a word

and the space left behind
like a toilet bowl without water
screamed to be filled
with cries or with laughter
but nothing seemed worthy

maybe that’s how we expire

at some point
the questions you’ve been asking yourself
all your life
collapse in a puddle

all of the reasons to be
or to not
hang on a rusted washing wire
and all that you can neither have nor hold
nor any longer even talk about
erupts
when an innocence of
a peculiar sort
through your skin
seems to transpire

at some point
you could just admit
at least to yourself
that even if it seems like the most important thing in the world
chances are
you’ll never learn how to walk
through fire

#swoon

the inside of my elbow
smells like a black hole
darkly the edges of
my recent thoughts
collide right
on the outline of my soul

despite the recent this
and that
my lips turn wildly
against themselves

revolted
my tongue black
ascetic liver
the colour of coal

black-ish
the moth-like insect
floating in my room
its flight so efortless yet
such a chore

livid and cringe-inducing
moments of hope
chocked
with moments of awe

the pillow of disappointment
smudged with black tears
raw
the feeling of today

converging crescent moons
exploding fireworks
and rain
and something to look
forward to
bedecked with drunken smiles
and all the self control i lack

the warmest colour
black

#evanescence

a murder of crows
has just recently
nested in my chest
the tremors of a forgotten song
awake them briefly

stirred in their tragedy
incongruent chirps of melancholy
tasting like cinnamon buns
get stuck in my throat
ungraciously
with crumbles of my past
i choke

my consciousness
attacked by hiccups
births a new dawn
a new dusk
causality grins deeply

bouquets of dandelions
might have perhaps
flown in circles around me
but instead
within and without me
just layers and layers
of dust

#slumberness

pocking at my obscene silence
with a magical wand
also used
as a torture stick

chocked eyes
suffocate in the sink
bulging with the
entirety of what it means
to be desperate

the inhabitants of my mind
quitely blow bubbles
smelling of mint candies
while decidedly panicked
reality continues
on mute

nothing
seems to be worth
the light of day

the leftovers of
a pompous emptiness
of something once known as hope
come up on display
nothing but pins and needles
in a world of hay

incessant coughs filled with flegm
accompany the accordeon
and the church bells

an ashtray sunset whispers cautions
shyly right behind my ears
but it’s too late
the sunday evening purgatory
always wins

#phantosmia

it smells like cheese
then weed then wine
spilled on recently
deceased leaves
putrid and rancid
ginger bread wind

it stinks of feet

stampeding on faint sounds
of what we once
called music
shuffling aromas dance
in the ether
where my teenage angst
seems to have been not so
elegantly replaced
by a state of utter
and perpetual

dither

it reeks of nostalgia
moist and eaten by moths
of trembling bridges
of things passed

this city of wingless angels
with its nimbus of premature death
gives out through all its pores
the aromas of tears that have been
unwept

saltiness amassed on tips of tongues

it smells like decayed
unconceived
hopes

#burnout

apparently it doesn’t go away
time doesn’t heal
almost anything
not even rudimentary physical
wounds
it’s fear
the one that closes gaps
between worlds
of skin or thought
anxiety the one that burns

apparently nothing gets better
or worse
the sun still rises for some
but definitely not equally
and not for everyone
and hey
one day
it’ll surely explode
bored of its own burns

apparently letting go
equals freedom in some books
but so what,
what good does it do to know that
when you can’t or won’t
do away with the shackles
chocking your soul
which in turn
boisterously burns

apparently obsessing
over what you’ve lost
(mostly just most of your life)
and all that you can neither have
nor any longer hope that you
once might
on cold sunny days
converge in delusions of grandeur

and your feeling lost
or feeling numb (dumb)
makes absolutely no difference
none to anyone
when apparently
all autumn does
is burn

#zeroG

a gentle cow
endlessly grazing
on the residues
of my macerated brain

an empire that has
ruthlessly colonized
my soul
leaving no survivors
among the indigenous

you

on some early mornings
you’re like sweat
in the desert
felt deeply
yet disconcertingly
inexistent

a burning riddle
maybe ash
a lick of fresh new paint
over scorched
rotten wood

seeds of resentment
sprouting like weeds
in the back garden of my
anxiety

fueled by imagination
a hot air balloon
floating
off course

a magnet shadowed by fur
a waterfall of glee

you might just be all of
these
or none

my gravitational force
unframed
unspoken
free

#outside

i wear my mother on the outside
shining brighter than bioluminescent
plankton in the sea
innocence coughs
a phlegm of yellow naivity
in the flame of a lighter
despite the cavalcade
of peculiar pregnant silences
you might sometimes
see straight through me

i wear my mother on the outside
with no fault of my own
inherited simplicity and
mindlessness
mistaken kindness
adorned with blindness
you’d think there’s nothing going
on behind the curtains of my
shreded lashes
but you’d be wrong

i wear my mother on the outside
of no decision of my own
repeatedly relapsing
my chances are half-choices
chosen halfs
of unencumbered wishes
broken paths

my muted truth
trapped in the chasm
of my ashened soul
i wear my mother on outside
nowhere to hide
nowhere to go

#asilaydying

as i lay
here shallowly breathing

a broken wine glass
crawls out of the trash bin
and decides to write its
testament on the skin of my face

shadows of past breaths
seem to be breathing
as well
as i lay here
licking unrest

off the dust-filled carpet

succumbing to spasms
all my beliefs
i throw into
large shopping-bags
and off to the wet market
we go

as i lay here
smoking your uncut hair
the sun chocked and stopped setting

an incongruous sickness
addicted to pulling off band-aids
off punctured hearts
i insist that my itch
can only be cured
by playing darts
with knives

and hanging my feelings
to dry
on the edge of
a half-whispered lie

as i lay here living
i die
and i die
and i die

#loveparade

the market exudes
a stinging odor of
boiled bones
the daylight explodes
its magnificent heat
on emptied streets
carrying on their shoulders
the shadows of feet

a dishonest breeze
hovers defiantly
spitting through crooked teeth
shells of propriety

clouded and unconsoled
a hermaphrodite heart
gets stuck to the sole of my shoe
which way to go when
the stars and planets are not aligning
the universe is not conspiring
nor fighting
in anyone’s favor
but its very own

summer had black eyes
and blue feathers
and for a fraction of a second
i held her in the palm of my hand
she looked right through me
and surely
flew straight into the boiling
pot of anxiety
of the sunrise
soon to be sunset

that very early morning
i hung my eyes to dry
between two trees armed
to their teeth
i had a slice of
the hopelessness pie
and engorged with disappointment
i set off
into a fairy-tale heath
soul secluded
in solitary confinement
ears ringing

meet me at the lack of love parade
where no one is
allowed to breathe

#dancedancedance

a state of trance
‘what if’
‘could have’
‘would have’
and ‘should have’
circle eachother
in a maddening
bewitching dance

‘maybe’
invites a possibility
for a tango
but she refuses gently

an incongrous alterity
gracefully
swings from under the bed
demanding a place
in the heated spotlight

glittered sattelites
foxtrotting
announce the demise
of everthing
that you both love
and hate

and surprise surprise
scribbled with a pencil
on the sky above your head
a relatively pathetic
message mirroring terror and dread
cha-cha-cha’s brightly

breathe in
breathe out
let go
forget

#scarface

i take my fresh new scars
out for a walk
around the neighborhood block
they’re not impressed with
this evening’s sunset
it’s a non-descript one,
empty
like sunsets sometimes are

i make them smell lilac
in bloom
purple and full of expectation
they tremble and gratefully
succomb to the wild
side effects of being neglected

enjoying the blindness
of sunrays reflected on water
they shiver and falter
and under a blue light
they timidly reveal
another persons blood

i invite them for a glass
of life
to commemorate loss
instead of celebrating
whatever they might
possibly remember
of the viscerality
and vicissitude
of love

investigating
uncanny similarities
and prudent coincidences
mistaken for a deeper meaning
i smash my scars on the pavement
from high above
just as a sign of goodwill
to introduce them to
all that i ve been
actually feeling

easy
and as natural
as breathing
my scars discard disgusted
their reasons for being
and sure enough
they’re
simply just dissolute
unfathomable
consequences
of nothing but
a lack of living

#ofmiceandmen

rhubarb
i’ve dreamt of rhubarb
being washed and magically
shaped
into a strawberry tart

of bins
too small
to contain even a fraction
of the garbage bags
that my heart fills twice a week

pathetic poetic
garbage men collect my discarded panic
less often in a pandemic

of a restraining order
issued for my thoughts
i can’t justify
any of the emotions
and agitated drops of sweat
that take hold of me
whenever

i can’t

of wordplay and flirts
edges of water
and nervous smirks

of how my pulse spikes
impatiently sometimes
of how i can’t control
the missing
the aching
the dying
and the dirt of all that
i’m (possibly happy to be) feeling
and (secretly) wishing i wouldn’t

#wherethewildthingsarent

behind my shower curtain
where drops of you hang from
the wet ceiling

on the steamy mirror
of my bathroom
together with what looks like
your smudged fingerprints
though it could also be
just the illusion of
things passed

sunk deep in the gutter
of what once was
deep in the middle of my
queasiness

above the excessive positivity
surrounding the idea that you can
and should
learn from the past
(which i apparently
fervently refuse to do)

in front of a peculiar species
of disappointment
which can and does
sometimes
smell like rot and dry rust

inside the concept of singularity
screaming blatantly
that we’re just done
we’re over we’re through

next to the most current struggle
which is very real
but not like war
more like ‘trying to keep your window clean’ real
although it always rains after you wash it

squeezed in a toolbar
among too many (unwashed)
windows
all open to the magnificence
of brick walls
folders containing feelings
hidden
memory overridden

and especially
in between the split second
i thought of telling you
i love you
and the moment
you actually told me
you didn’t

#thisconnection

this year
everyone seems to somehow
reason
that ‘they can’t cancel spring’
having no clue who ‘they’ is
i can only assume
it’s not you

anxiety tightens around
my neck ornately
like the curly cord
of an old telephone

spontaneously combusting
my organs
on the edge of erupting
crawl orderly
each in their own
sack of glue

the moon is a mouth
these days
swallowing fears
related to the possibility of a future
but mostly
she hides and keeps to herself

a transgressive narrative
rem sleep
glows more potently than
unencumbered
relating to oneself

and all the while,
every morning,
my phone recites
something i’m struggling
not to forget

‘you can force a feeling into being
just as much as you can force a blind man
into seeing ‘

dial
disconnect
schedule the alarm
reset

#letempsquilfait

some saturdays
life waltzes away
from me

the loungechair
occupied with laughter until
a moment ago
is now just sitting there
in a deadly shade
deserted and lonely

recently
lifebuoys have been hanging
in the air useless

with
anxious insides riveting

this year’s spring
is hiding
in pockets full of lint
and tobacco residue

while two geese
only two
fly right above my head
honking and telling me

baby we’re not there
no, we’re not there
yet

#homealone

i felt her creeping
from one of the dusty corners of my house
i can’t really say which one
she seemed to be coming from the future
wearing clothes from the past
as poisonous
as sarin gas
she made her way towards me
attempting to make my mind
her home

however daring she posed
i still sensed
her trembling
foggy fingers stretching
towards my unprotected back
unsure if now was a good moment
to take hold
doubting if i’ve maybe
already
been vaccinated
against her
ruthless and surreal
and most of all cold
she decided to postpone
her attack
it might have been just me
or it might have been her

failure
being unfathomable
her claws withdrawn
she all of a sudden
slouched back to the dark hole
in which she was born
leaving behind untouched
spider web doilies
undisturbed anger fits
and rejected ideas about
the meaning of life
and of being
alone

not made of flesh
nor bone
loneliness found herself
lonely
in the depths of my home

#discoverychannel

i’ve just recently discovered
that i’m an operating system
in me you probably can install
a variety of applications
themes and wondrous means
of navigating through
mapped feelings
of having a plastic bag
constantly around your head

give me directions
alexa
give me meaning

those nights
more and more frequent
when i wake myself up
with an obscene snore
energy-saving light bulbs
exploding in my chest
eyes itchy inflamed
bulging tongue sore
those nights do nothing
but accumulate
in an album of moments in which
i was closest to dying but
surprisingly didn’t

i’ve just recently discovered
that i haven’t been using protection
being myself whilst
aiming continuously to disappoint
to represent
to fulfill all that’s expected of me
to fail i strive
to be my worst version
and possibly that’s at least
something that i won’t know how to regret
considering my best version’s
unnoticeability

i’ve just recently discovered
that you really can only see
in other people
nothing but yourself

#quietus

and then there were three
clustered around
a boiling nucleus of
synchronicity

rather randomly cast
perhaps doomed
not to last
symbiotic
connections
strong enough
to be
passed as
being superficial

piano keys stroked
with the tum-tum
beatings of a similar
heart
echoing
fast-forwarding
crawling
to somewhere
you might call a
version of the start

untold stories
unfinished business
tears
drilling holes
into a half-lived existence

the selfishness of mortality
(or of life)
rises across the horizon
you’d think endings can
be embraced with wisdom
until you’re faced with your own

and then there were two
and then there was one
and then there were none

#happynewfear

covered entirely
in a rare cluster
of Achilles heels
my skin
refuses more and more
to exist

suffice to say
at random intervals of time
tiny heart attacks
seem divine
and suggest the illustrious idea
that everything’s just
mighty fine

tachycardic
vessels of unworldly proportions
eyes accustomed
to being worthless
suddenly and irrationally
bulge

erratic
loose lips
some times
sink
some ships
but everything mine ever did
was get drowned in grime

chocked with impossible
maybes
unaccounted-for feelings
scrape the walls of pierced
arteries
screaming like unfed babies

regardless of the length
of my timeline
i’ve lost
without even competing

#dis

dismembered ignorance
bliss
ignoring feelings
only gives them more reasons
to exist

a good day to go mad
today
i spread insanity
on a slice of bread
and chew on what’s left
of myself

signs on my skin
predict thunder
and rain
existence suddenly
smells like exhaust pipes
and melted tar
stupid jokes
crack the asphalt
and seem funny only when
heard from afar

inside my head
i do yoga,
elongate my ribs
enlarge the volume of my
container
only to make it feel
even emptier

freshly shaved
neuronal pubes
emanate a sense of loss
and my stomach
instead of butterflies
it’s festering with
soul-eating moths.

#hightide

a shallow foreshore
my body unhinged
deconstructs
the memory of a feeling

sucked in the depths
of themselves
or in the moving sands
at the bottom of the sea
that day,
a random number of shadows
ceased to be

shouted names
echo helplessly
in the wind
like burnt candles

an itching eczema
spreads like wild fire
eats away
on the tissue engulfing
my core

plagued by
a rotten desire
my soul floats frivolously
on the surface
of a bottle of rum

tiredless
from myself
i run
and i run
and i run…

#oblivion

unseen eyes
forgotten
in the fog of days

a non-existent memory

such frail surprise
bewildered rainbows
trembling
on the pavement skies

dissecting the inception
of an ending
a blizzard
inconspicuously blinking
raking havoc

apologetic

forgetfulness conspires
with leftovers of something
that could have been epic

foreseeing
sumptuous presumptions
lingering
forgotten traces of forgiveness
assume dispirited positions

the scorching
summer evening air
secretly breathes in
my lack of meaning

people resembling
other people
makes you wonder
if we’re not all
made of plaster

forgetfulness
could just as well
be synonym with laughter

the clouds are weeping

having received an answer
that summer evening
my version of reality
feverishly got replaced
by disaster

#somekindofalice

under the looking glass
i place my intentions
or lack thereof

scrutinizing my absent
initiative
i cultivate
my greatest skill
disappointing myself
as a hobby
more addictive
than heroin

above the looking glass
resides another
clumsy replica of myself
some kind of insufficient
regret
i suspect

there won’t be
any excitement
to the left
of the looking glass
nor to the right
but through it though
polka dots revolve

nefariously

i ignorantly
dispose of my thoughts

can’t decide if they
should be recycled
with the cans,
the paper
or the bottles
i raise my glass

and smother
with a pillow
all your remains
i’ve dreamt
alas

the future
asks
how i would like to die
the present
chokes
with laughter
the past makes bets
with the rest of my life

and i,
i raise a glass
for everything
that fails to matter

#downwiththesickness

elegantly pestilential
the taste of my dreams
is quietly subdued

impulses of burnt candles
infer incremental changes
in the substance
of my mind’s thickest dirt

biased i battle myself
david and goliath
i am both and neither
my struggle ridiculously colourful

like the mermaids
drawing you to yet another
monumentally fake
copy of a world

inspired by the living
timid
death writes empty poems
with venom and light
she says nothing is worth nothing
when you’re not your own muse
fighting your own fight

a wrinkled parasite
takes hold of my shadow
smudges my laughter
with vomit and lye
while diseased unfathomable hopes
persist
in the breeze of my breath
disgust swims courageously
despair spreads its wings
silence sings a funeral march

and life
sarcastically unfurling
reminds me of everything
that i’ve missed

#mountaintopwaterdrop

i wake up in a morning
that throws cats from the sky
not to worry
they land on their feet
tiny paws
starting to chase stuffed mice
out of pure,
unadulterated habit
peeking out
from under a blanket of
bloody cadavres
my soul timidly starts to weep
if i could fit all my sadness
in a padded envelope
i’d send it to the poles
perhaps that would
reverse the damage
our collective unconsciousness
successfully managed to inflict
hysteric mosquitos assault my ears
launching themselves
like kamikaze warriors
into attempts at whispering
stories with no purpose
or meaning
most of the time
even
without a beginning
a grasshopper
missing a leg
stretches his antennae
from deep inside my chest
and
curiously blessed
i feel
my sadness
growing a new
useless limb

#stalemate

secretly
inside my head
the thought of you
aggressively
plays ping-pong
with the idea of me

when it’s
liquid-coconut-oil-weather
black birds whisper
their heated stories
about how being human
can never equate
to being free

eventually you get used to that
as one gets used to
sleeping on
a water-bed
or not knowing
why and when and how
you’re gonna die
you have no choice
but to get used to it

sooner or later

or later

or later

maybe your skin
grows thicker
your eyes lose their glitter
but so what

instead of living
you’re dying a little
everyday
your sweetness turns
bitter

holding on to something
you’ve never had
and treating it
as if it’s all that you’ve got

lest you forget
that you’re nothing but
a pathetic collection of
pieces
of a raw broken heart

#come

contemplating
the universe
reflecting in a toilet bowl
the voice of lack of reason
recites loudly
an unapologetic
ode to an
unforgiving
unknown

-if you could ….
i promise to behave
to renounce my self
destructive impulses
solemnly conjuring
the abyss
riding
carelessly on top of
a tsunami wave 
of angel piss

-if only you’d ….
i might delight
in your growing pains
and bloody sorrows
i’d build you a statue
made of half-forgotten dreams
i’d gulp on all of your
imagined horrors

expecting the unexpected
in limbo
i’m waiting
and even breathing
feels overwhelming

– so please …
i promise to behave 
like nothing ever happened
but mind you
if you wait too long
there might be
nothing left
to save

nothing left to miss
to say the least

– just ….
convince my stubbornness
there’s really not much more
to life
than all of this

#bittersweetsixteen

it happened
approximately a half a lifetime
ago
the memory of it
clearly bulimic
the feeling of it though
persisting in everything

on a tropical summer night
that squeezed its intentions
through all the hidden corners
of a drunk adolescence
it happened 
a soul born 
out of effervescence

about a half a lifetime ago
unshaved meadows
and bald hills
were home
the blessings 
of youth turning and looking
at emotions
with a deep frown

the catacombs of uncertainty
spreading their limbs
through a half a lifetime ago
version of me

that’s when it happened
the explosion of life
cleverly disguised 
in a delicious blasphemy

an idea of love
inoculated into my bloodstream
forever possessing my mind
a half a lifetime later

shackled still
and still blind

#tempertemper

i’ve dyed
what you’d call life
in the subtlest colour
of the night

you’d guess that’s black
but you’d be wrong
since all the seams
of this so called 
life
seem 
to have been sewn
clumsily
with the brightness 
of a half-blind
moonlight

eerily translucent
agitated organs compose
a symphony about losing 
all hope

the wreckage of this soul
is see-through
emaciated
the shadow of this heart
walks hunched-back

no ribs can contain
its hastiness
no skin can hold all her
tears back

poor and naive heart
it only does
what it knows best
crumbling 
pathetically
in puddles of regrets
decorated with blossoms
of forget-me-not

#funeralforafriend

unknowingly
i might have assisted at the funeral
of my laughter
the enthusiastic bastard
smiled while
shovels of dirt drove him
towards the middle of the earth

a transcendental ritual
a blackness opening its
mouth full of cavities
eating away at everything
that breathes

before the ceremony
howlers gathered to take
my turbulent laughter
for a last round
of drinks

and in the noise
of exploding rollercoasters
the horizon expanded
its splendour
and all of my boats
are sunken
and so are
all of my dreams…

#nothingbut

a lingering misunderstanding
i am
nothing but
an undemanding mistake
born out of spite
anxiety
and perhaps some traces of regret

a paradox
i am
nothing but 
brain cells noisily expanding
like lightning lighting
a sinuous darkened
version of myself
with tear ducts 
that have decided
to simply not stop 
spilling tears
flowing forever
hoping to maybe 
make me go blind

a curious ambiguity
i am 
nothing but 
a war-field

full of dead bodies
some died in battle 
some killed themselves
putrefied remains of what 
it feels like
when nothing can ever 
make sense

a grandiose hopelessness
i am 
nothing but
the bottom of an ocean
where there’s simply
too little air
and too little light
to survive

an infinite disappointment
i am 
nothing but

#bubblegum

bubble gum girl
face 
smudged with resin tears
resentfully chewing
an amalgam
of remorse
she reluctantly swallows 
a rainfall of expectations
and a bucket of fears

dissolving subtly
her unnoticed disappearance 
sounds like a tin can
rolling in a cryptic wind

chaotic ravashing thoughts
start possesing inevitably
the holes
burnt with a hot glue gun
in the place that used
to hold her soul

bubble gum girl
her crippled spirit
forever
downing in
a forever storm

no sign
of purpose
no trace
of control

#charmed

a charming heated
emptiness
moves into the 
quiet chambers
of my heart

blankets of powder
invite her for a morbid dance
in the dark

a charming animated 
emptiness
invades 
the nooks 
and crannies of my soul

some curious echo of sadness
takes her for
a mournful stroll

a charming fiery
emptiness
bulldozers through
all the leftovers of
my being

and life,
it just keeps pushing 
through
lacking both hope
and meaning

#undefinedness

i read about a man with no face
who wants to have 
his portrait drawn
and daily i ride past
a man with no head
his hat floating
undisturbed
singing songs
about all the indefinite things
which do not last

around the corner
a lonely fire burns 
sweeps boulevards and buildings
in all the shades
the color red will ever meet

all the while
an inconclusive belly
hides under a curtain 
of sleep
and hangs weak mandarins outside 
its window to weep

down the street

nipples made of stone
are pointing in different directions
one to the future
the other to the end 
of the world

while gliding on tram rails
my mood decides to oscillate
between boundless elation and
a feeling 
of turning into indistinct mold

behold
under the cover of darkness
i secretly water my brain
with lighter fluid

setting my mind ablaze
i settle on the edge 
of my vague existence
and watch the beauty
and the unspoken sadness
of undefined persistence
exploding into fireworks

#frieddays

like rain
what comes out of my pen
melts on pieces of toilet paper
dissipates on
post-it’s
life unfurls like
a photographic film
expired but exposed
waiting to be
developed

like a call or a
message or a sign
of love
that never comes
i guess dead people
really can’t use the
telephone

too bad
all this waiting
in vain
with all of its sandy sadness
and the silent pain of
twisted arteries
glow in the dark
mysteries

i only allow myself
to breathe
underwater

a conundrum

burlesque gatherings
of bloated peacock eyes
smile innocently

my saturated lungs
release all their empathy
like smoke

like smoking
i delude myself into promising to quit
you
every morning
and like smoking
i just can’t seem to be able
to give up

#snakesonmyplane

if the planes of our existence
would just crash into each other
a midair collision
infuriated pieces of 
unfastened organs
raining on the earth
like peony petals

salty tongues
and sandpaper cheeks 
smashing on pavements

all emergency exits
sealed with 
wet kisses
electricity to my brain cut 
fast
short-circuits reviving
my senses
the cabin pressure
of my heart
lost
i’d breathe you instead of
putting on an oxygen mask

from a faded photograph
riddled in smoke
i’d be drawing my infatuation
inflating your life-vest first
then jumping through exploded windows
with no parachute
into something
remotely
resembling 
inception

#crippledspring

a type of stubborn naivety
used daily
as an excuse

surrounded by pretentious vessels
a lake of emptiness
ensues

renouncing this version
of reality
i avoid living
postpone
breathing
engage in activities
meant to distract
i fail to react

chasing an apology
with a glass of vodka

my pills
crushed with the fist
of my fears

a renegade of forgotten
dreams

the murmur of your leaves
still moving inside me
never-ending conversations
still hanging
on branches
of evergreen trees

this spring
explodes in me
with sadness
this spring
and all the demons
it brings

#bigcitylife

a black mustache
taking a stuffed pheasant for a stroll
in the shadowless light
of an almost evening

a daily baldness walking two dogs
right past my window

there used to be three
and now there’s just two
and i can’t help but wonder
what happened to the third
i’ve seen his clouded eyes
and one day, i imagine
he just turned into a bird

like all of us are going to
eventually

an avenue of disappointment
takes my breath away
with decapitated old men
aligned on its wings
grinning their wiseness 
in concentric rings
of pain

like mushrooms
after the rain
further down the road
sensorial inconsistencies 
sprout into existence

dark circles 
emerge like black holes
engulfing a pair
of glistening eyes
that look like blisters

if you pay attention
you might even see
the city’s heart
birthing me
every morning

it moans and it groans
and foaming
it squirts 
drops of despair
mixed with an elusive
feeling of 
indescribable longing

#yellow

yell at the sun
with bulging eyes
to hide 
his masochistic grin

ow how covertly i caress 
the contour of a scream
the thing expanding in me

yell to begin

shout out eclectic fables
on being violently nude
ow sun
stop being such
a clouded prude

yell to conclude

ow cruelty, when did you take hold
of the immaculate stain
etched on my soul

yell of a yolk
the gooey essence 
spilling on the jacket 
of my brain

yell
ow, my friend
is how you make my heart feel
and yellow has the flavor of
the end

#violentblossoms

in the ruined 
garden of my dreams
young demons
play hockey
noisily self-absorbed
they permeate through my cocoon
stealing the last frame
of my vision
waking me up
to a question-marked copy of reality

in it
i engage in a conversation
with the magnolia tree on my street
we debate our narcissistic tendencies
feverishly contemplating
the sun’s perfidious heat

she says she’s tired of it

‘isn’t spring just a 
glorious whore
raping me with its uncertain wind’

i nod and i wink

i have no response for the magnolia tree 
on my street

and within me 
a suspicious sting

‘if only i could
at least temporarily
park my chaotic thoughts
in a free parking spot
away from the highway 
of my feelings
if only there’d be a hidden cave
to engulf my nostalgia in
without injecting it with
any other meaning
than it already has’

the magnolia tree on my street
shakes off its blossoms

‘we’re all birds of a feather
and there are no questions
for any of our answers’

#like

how does it feel
to have 
cactus flowers
blossoming in your chest

to discover
your bellybutton
holding all the secrets 
of your mother

to hear
the changing of seasons
making birds
scream at each other

does it feel 
like
eternity blowing a fuse
smelling like 
morning rush-hour fumes

like 
the atmosphere in an Edgar Allan Poe story
delightfully dreary 
and gory

like a tragedy
it feels like
shadows of thoughts sucked into a black hole
before getting a chance to be ejaculated into
an actual finished thought

a condescending miscarriage of an idea
slaloming
through drops of 
eye-spit

feels like curses 
in a strange dialect
like an abstract
broken spell

like
a collection of
unfinished poetry
trying to summarize 
the birth, life and death of memory
or of hell

between reverie and rumination
a chained black dog
barks the simplest answers 
to all of life queries:

it feels

like riding a bike
astray
like learning how to swim 
away

#behindenemydebris

always tomorrow
or the day after
later
in a little while
sometime in the future
at some point
eventually

postponing life
as a past time activity
delaying that which
cannot be avoided
avoiding all that which 
cannot be delayed

unreasonable 
simplicity
a darkened 
porous membrane
of time
infesting
all ability
to manifest 
any specific feeling

the border patrol
of my comfort zone
rides on tsunami waves

debris gathering
aggressively
inside me
maggots
eating away 
on the bloated cadaver 
of my shortcomings

i’ve been consistent
in being
my one and only
enemy

#fatalsystemerror

the kernel of my being
refuses to start

hacked by a vicious idea
my core heats up
graciously burning through
the plastic encasing of my heart

an ocean-blue screen
spreads its analog waves
infinitely
smudging the display
of my failed entity

memories dissipate
into the void
ghosts hungry
for the present moment
hunt it down
amorphous silhouettes
of possibilities
destroyed

the future reveals itself
as an accumulation of
formatted bits
and convoluted lines of code
noisily mustering
on the fringe
of my error log

and deep within
a bug

the system crashes
a swirled soul
left with no choice
but to explode

hello world…

#throwback

how do you try to refeel a feeling?
to refill a feeling.

do you try to remember
or do you try to forget?

do you confuse what’s real
with what you imagine?

the delicate raising
of the hairs on my arms,
like high notes,
high pitches.

memory glitches.

life.all of it 
running through my hair.

and still no clue as to
where or how to begin.

so frail, the clouds of lost
feelings
such agonizing warmth
within the foreign taste
of something you’ve always known.

a blue lighter
constitutes the beginning

as well as the end
of all the thoughts
going through my head.

is one gram 
a considerable amount?
how about two?

does waking up to feeling free
amount to something as well?

how many sunrises 
have you missed recently?
or rather, 
more importantly,

have you ever wondered
how many sunrises 
have missed you?

#choiceless

before waking up
i murdered with cold blood
my lack of confidence 
in the world

with no remorse 
i assassinated 
my lack of hope

having no regrets
i disemboweled 
my fear

bravely destroyed
all signs of 
distrust

before opening my eyes
i decided that
indecisiveness
could be a must
in a parallel 
reality

having dreamt 
a variety of alternatives
i chose to choose you
not out of lack of choice
but out of 
stubbornness

and with equanimity
i admitted to myself
that thinking i actually have a choice
is nothing but
poetry

#theendoftheworld

a persuasive
inability
to choose

insides twisting with
uncertainty
oozing a pumpkin scent

everything topped
with cinnamon
and misery

a persistent cough in the wall
the tumbling of a washing machine
set on drying the world’s sins
into golden dust
and fury

it’s the day when all
light bulbs burn out
like the last drips of ink
from a fountain pen
like soapy water
sucked with thirst by the drain

energies collide into
an explosion of nothingness
the black hole of
ignorance
blissfully expands
like the belly of a pregnant woman

pins and needles strike
sharp sketches
of endless wars

and fading shadows
paint with pain
and force
a portrait of what it
means to be human

#sundaybloodysunday

scenting like rotten intentions
tasting metallic
it flows down the drain
with immediacy
galvanized and erratic

through a splintered chin
and an ocean-blue lip
it brings to a boil
ecstatic galaxies and dances
clustered within

aligned with the moon 
and the stars
it glows fearful in the shadows
smearing the spotlights
of millions of dismembered
cars

blown in the wind
porcelain tissues soak its intensity
coloring this world
defined by a propensity
for self-destruction

tired and frail
my blood knows 
all there is to know
about the seduction
of not knowing 
when to give up and
how to let go

#launderedaffliction

in the pitch black
through the fresh mud
under a waterfall of diamonds

on streets disinfected 
and polished
on pavement bricks sealed with 
sand warped with violence

in perfect tempo
with the wind
sliding through little castles
kingdoms unfurling in front of me
consisting of nothing but
a careful orchestrated
dark and stormy
potentiality

reaching the upper levels
of my being’s building
proves to be quite conflicting
the elevator fights a not so steady 
battle with gravity
and there are no stairs
no other possibility of 
getting high 
my spirit
forever surrendered to entropy

if only my wings 
weren’t tied
if only i wouldn’t be 
devoured and consumed
by all the things i’ve assumed
by all the times when instead 
of telling the truth
i’ve lied

#metaphysicalgretel

instead of crumbs of bread
wherever i may roam
i drop behind me 
slices of my soul

soft pigeons could indulge 
in their distressing taste
and silken seagulls might noisily fight
over their unidentified remains

but i can only hope
they’ll all have mercy
and leave for me
at least
some sort of 
distinguishable shadow of a trace

how else am i supposed
to find my steps
after blindly wandering 
through this expanding maze
by some, called life

nevertheless

arbitrarily transcending
blankets of existence
i start seeing
self-determination 
like a joke 
hanging on the lips
of a clown’s mistress

and realize
that certainly
whether i ruminate about it
or i just let it flow 
freely
it makes no difference
to how love extends 
its tentacles
within me

nor does it change its scent
its flavor
or the vigor of 
its engorged 
all encompassing feeling

perhaps there’s then 
no reason
to find a way back

no reason at all
to go on looking 
for a meaning

#knockknock

three knocks 
at the doors of my consciousness

knock
reluctantly i greet my adolescence
she storms its way back
in the spotlight
ignores how far i’ve come
and how much of her i’ve forgot

knock
i currently subsist 
in the belly 
of my imagination
a great blue whale
feeding me 
with incandescent 
wishful thinking
and ashes of expectations

all the while 
dancing above my bed
the scent of white lilies 
creeps into my dry nostrils
and bleeds colors
into the leftovers of my head

knock
i wonder
with frozen feathers
to a fence of smoke
bound
if my heart should break
and there’d be no one here to hear it
would it still make a sound?

#midwinterfeels

your arrow hits me
straight in my stream
every single day
a milky way of shattered dust
colors in between
the wishful thinking
fueling my existence
and everything i dream
sooner or later
becomes a passionate
reflection of insistence

the atmosphere 
inside my thorax
suffers from jaundice
eager seagulls 
align there for sun salutations
and await their calling
but this morning 
blossomed 
with the sound of a soul
stumbling and falling

a festival of darkness 
hovers above the water’s skin,
the cold shrivels the bulimic air
like some not-quite coagulated blood
which struggles to continue its flow
but ends up stuck in a grin

tonight,
more dangerous than any threat
your absence engulfs
all of my senses
it brutally makes its way
through me
while a sky of silence coughs besotted phlegm
and rains its bowels 
with pathetic muteness
all over my love-struck head

give me your noise
or give me death!

#goodbye

a sigh
birthed into the world

volcanoes erupting
torrents of sadness
and remorse
flowing with burning
and consuming force

quixotic thoughts

a fable from which
nothing will ever be grasped

an expensive selection of ropes
of unorthodox width and length

my favorite necklace
a noose
hanging tonight
much too tight
or much too loose

when there is simply
nothing that matters
that’s left to lose

everything’s probably
already lost

starting with the future
ending with the past

cryptic tales
contain solutions
to all labyrinths
except those
running through
my mindless heart

there’s nothing like
a proper curse
to keep me hollow
hurting
stumbling in the dark

my eyes are wild
and open but sadly
within them
there’s neither light

nor magic

nor spark

#mightandmagic

infused with you
a teabag strangely
floating just underneath 
the surface
its contents swirling

my muscles’ memory
contains you
the traces of your touch
your fingerprints darkly
smudged

on the fences of my soul
your scent persisting
the essence of your being
still residing quietly
on the tip of my tongue

we might just 
virtually be
two drops of salty water 
sharing the same path
through reality’s flood

and you
you might have placed a spell
on every last ounce
of my boiling blood

#winterofmydiscontent

when dusk cracks
in unequal pieces
revealing within it
a fortune teller
smelling of musk

and dawn tastes 
pinkish and shy
like a newborn
screaming its colours all 
over the sky

the twilight reflects
a perfectly shadowless life
untraceable yet
strangely bright

some yellow splendors
hang brilliantly
on the branches 
of my nude brain

while my outline sings
melancholic ballads
for glowing eyes
making love in the rain

that’s when a fragrance of fire
lingers in the thin air
and winter
she starts cutting
autumn’s hair

#intothefog

a whole history
of humanity
unraveling
underneath eyelids
sealed by gravity

a song sang by the fog
below trembling streetlights
conveys
a sense of infinite
disregard for damnation
an insatiable hunger
for self preservation

an impulse to dissolve
in the music
of an almost full moon
melting

uncertainties boiling
and evaporating
making existence taste
tempting

clarity is wearing make up
disguised as
a creature dancing
till sunrise

hopes and expectations
pulverized
by the poisonous smoke
of fascination

did my feelings get broke
or did i awake
to a concept of new
intimate sensations

have i forgotten myself
or have i just discovered
my limitations?

#firefly

all of my uncried tears
are playing chess
under lime trees

unreasonable
just like my obsessions
questionable in their intentions
with dubious expectations

the steam of my feelings
dissipates in the storm
raised
by my pursuit for meanings

my heart plays saxophone
sometimes
and on the deepest notes
you can almost hear her
breathing and breaking
on and on
never ending

carefully distraught
absent minded
present in another world
where rhymes hang to dry
on electrified wire
you’ve made me feel
like a moth
full of desire

having rather to burn
than to have never known fire

#lovealways

Do you know? Are you familiar
With the kind of beauty
That makes you cry?
You can’t help it
It’s so beyond and above you
So overwhelming
So all encompassing
So pure
So understanding of everything
Do you know those rays?
Accompanied by those strings
Do you even know what floating outside
Existence means
Have i ever told you
How all rivers carry my tears
And did you ever drink
From the ambrosia
Of my lucid dreams?
If not, it s ok.
I m happy, i m glad, i m gay
I m excited to feel
Most people don’t
I m happy to have you
a fantasy, a glass or a plate
Almost but not entirely
Broke
Or broken
Flying above highness
Drowning in the foam of days
Love
Always.

#highhigherhighest

No middle way
It’s all or nothing
Always
Life’s anything and everything
Besides just grey

The glowing satellite
When full of appetite
Pushes all fluids
Forward
With eagerness
It unites
And conquers
Creating newness
Endlessly

The dessert of clouds
Embraces lost souls
Gently
Caressing
My hopes of being
Good

The lines of the horizon
Know everything
They’ve seen it all
They’ve carried my gaze
Into grieving

Spiderwebs broken
By sun rays
Break my heart with their
Exquisiteness
I’ve loved your heart before
The sun ever decided to rise
I’ve loved your freedom before
The sun ever decided to set

#wouldyou

a moon cut perfectly in two
drips quicksilver tears
through the clouds
bleeding nostalgia through branches
almost empty of leaves
i breathe in poems written
on hidden bricks
and breathe out
an excited disheartenment
about all that i am
and with all that this is

i grab hold of my goose-bumps
tearing them apart
with brutality
i expect them to react
to defend their story, their rituals
but instead they bounce right back
multiplying themselves
ferociously

i keep a heart hidden
in the first drawer of my nightstand
occasionally we exchange thoughts
through telepathy
on the meaning of life
and the fate of humanity
she doesn’t say much though
just pulses away
and sometimes she whispers advice
in a secret dialect
which sounds very much
like rain

she has the color of life
i’d share her with you
if we each take a half
then mine and yours
instead of just one
could be free enough
to make two.

would you?

#pupils

pupils
dilating
transforming into birds
fly off to distant horizons
smudged with wet paint
in the colors of a
sunrise that tastes like a sunset

pupils
dilating
swallowing
all the contrast in the world
an image with no edges
a blur
an excitement portrayed
in a landscape of waiting
for something to happen
knowing quite well
that it couldn’t

pupils
dilating
being born into
their own existence
an ocean of empty hope
and giving up
a shower
of wasted insistence

engorged
enlarged to unreal proportions
they step by step
become creatures
of insane adoration
escaping the limits
of their own notions

pupils
like hearts
dilating
into explosions
and
bursting with expectations

#neverisforever

sometimes i take a step
outside of myself

i take the emptiness of my regrets
for long walks
around the neighborhood of my
failed thoughts

on particular sandy days
i play piano
with the wings of my toes

when time stops
i crawl out of my crumbled brain
and roll through a window of smoke

i cover my selfishness with dust
throw it in mud

the cage of my chest
pounding
resonates with
the stumbling waves of my spilled blood

your memories and mine
are not the same
mine live on the surface of my skin
and slap the life out of me
leaving me trembling and cold

gentle voices keep whispering
that i can have whatever i want
but it’s useless

since i know
that i won’t

#ÖngyilkosVasárnap

Echoes of endless childhoods
Contained in drops of water
That fall at perfectly timed intervals
From the tap of my pounding soul

Flights of pigeons
Skiing smoothly on my eyeball’s surface
They draw mealy lines on the mirrors
Hanging on my heart’s punctured wall

Grey feathers zigzagging aimlessly
Floating like baloons
Touched by dirty needles
They sew a thick blanket of melancholy
Like leaves cursed by the fall

Does the sun even rise if you’re not there?
On some days it doesn’t
On some days the sky is nothing
But a grieving black hole

#desertinthemorning

exhaling a cotton candy breath
they’re embracing
my exposed organs
with layers of syrup and death

tasting like rust on my tongue
they get me wondering
if there’s any cigarette brand
inscripted on my left lung

oozing diamonds
they’re brutally
gathering charcoal steam
on my eyelids

intricate and resilient
they dissolve my skin
expanding their corrosive spiderwebs
endlessly
dripping an absurd infatuation
with your soul
into my bloodstream

these deserted mornings
their deserted dream.

#fallingpiano

falling in love
can sometimes sound like
a song played on the piano

strokes on its keys
raising a heart’s beats
caressing a soul’s wondrous wings

the movements of its fragile pins
guiding the flow of emotions
upward and downward
and inward

its golden hammers
rendering everything else
insignificant and
wildly incoherent

like a volcano
ready to erupt
falling in love
can feel like
holding a breath
for as long
as you must

#betweentobeornottobe

between hashtags and tears
i hang my feelings to dry
on threads of silver 
and silk
unsurprisingly
they blow away in the smoke of the wind
and disappear in a fog
thicker than honey
whiter than milk

between scrolling and tapping
i throw mellow glances filled
with inconsistency and
relapsing
i remind myself to breathe in
at least twice an hour
always
in between
the russian roulette rounds
my life seems to be playing
with no intention to win

between mirrors and screens
i hide myself
in dead corners
on edges wrapped in darkness
under carpets of dry leaves
covered with a taste of disaster

creeping on my elbows
i take a mouthful of earth
smelling like all the atrocities
of which i’ve never even heard
and standing up on my knees
i declare
with the silence of a spreading cancer
that to be or not to be
is not a question
but an answer

#rollercoastergirl

i’m not quite sure when exactly
i got on this rollercoaster
it might have been a really long time ago
before i had to do daily practices
of learning how to let go

it could also have been before i was born

maybe i was simply attached to a meteor
right before it exploded
perhaps i’ve been thrown
into this whirlwind of emotions
with no fault of my own
or au contraire, because i insisted not to
be anything less than whole

i might have climbed into this montagne russe
just recently
although on a long enough timeline
this ‘recently’ becomes shrouded in relativity

it could have happened last week
when i fantasized about drowning
i opened my eyes under the pressure
of a tidal wave that was suddenly
embracing me tightly
grabbing hold of a stone wall
i pushed myself up
from the arms of a foamy ocean that
seemed determined to have me
and knowing i was drowning
i still felt a peace so strange
it was almost alarming

but regardless of when it started
the bottom line
as well as the top and the middle one
they’re all white
and despite the moment it all began
i still seem to be here now
rolling and tumbling
anxiously and curiously wondering
who i am and if i should step off
jump off
or wait for the rollercoaster to
malfunction
and deliver me to another dimension
made of flacid dreams in which
i’m not drowning
nothurtingnotmissingnotthinking
notfeelingnotlivingnotdreaming

who knows? not me
maybe the girl who sold the roller coaster
to buy herself a bag
labeled
‘how to be free’

#tuesdaydipinthefridge

a mosquito flies in circles
inside my refrigerator
i’m curious if he’s experiencing
a similar fall into his own
existence
as i’m currently feeling
or if it’s all a matter
of pure bad luck
or coincidence
 
maybe he’s built a home there
like eskimos chose the arctic
perhaps he has a sweet tooth
for colder weather
or just as well
it may be that he wanted
his death
to be somewhat less dramatic
 
i’d ask him a few questions
not expecting him to provide me
with answers
but just to spit them into being
to throw them out of my spirit
 
it might be
just like a normal conversation
with any god
except the mosquito in my fridge
seems to be more real
even though i don’t know
for how long
 
what separates us from eachother
how have we grown so much apart
why is being blue allowed to be a sad state of mind
why not green or purple or any other colour and how does that affect
people that are colour blind
when and how will it all end and will someone be there to join along for the ride
 
i’m sure he has all the answers
the mosquito in my fridge
but tonight i think i ll let him
reflect on his own life
and waiting for some sort of sign
i sink deeper into myself
and i try to kindle a hope
that even without any answers
i might possibly maybe
still
be
all
right

#panicwednesday

i feel an avalanche forming
a nervous snowball
takes root inside me and seems to be
growing and growing

a riddle composing itself
continuously
is laughing at how i fail to take myself
seriously

i spread my panic
on slices of bread
and throw them to pidgeons
that seem to already be dead

i exhale
coughing thick spider webs
i roll my eyes into numbness
and pretend to ignore
the noise in my head

i take half a step
off the edge of my bruised soul
and breathing in
i take a leap
of lack of faith
into the known

farewell cruel dream,
your magic is gone!

#curioustuesday

i indulge today
in a big breakfast of
eager curiosity

i play with a boomerang of misunderstandings
i demand nothing of myself
except to
take daily baths in puddles
of complete and total lack of expectations
i live in a surprise
of endless proportions
i fantasize about excitement
mushrooming
from exposed wet emotions

i hide my body
under a carpet of spongy moss
my lips
grabing on to
attention seeking balloons
full of hope and
salty drops of water
frail and confused
not knowing if the right choice
is to push through or
to falter

reflecting fish-eyed versions of myself
in tiny amber heads
of burning cigarettes
i see
my bulging eyes
suffocating from the smoky flavour
of sadness and regret

have i used up my spirit?
have i faded away?
should i burn now till there’s nothing left of me?
or should i wither away?

#eclipsed

it’s midnight inside me today
the hat of the sky is lit
with fireflies quietly winking 
millions of light years away

inverted gravity
pulling and throbbing
at the hole in my chest
and the fabric of time
threatens to devour
everything that i’ve ever
felt and suppressed

as i gather the remains of my thoughts
from a shore of sharp knives
made of ancient dirt
my nakedness floats in the air
dancing to the surreal music
of breathlessness
and despair

and under the eclipsed eye
of a serene moon
i throw my blind heart
deep in the dark bowels
of the lake
hoping that the water will have the
patience to teach her
how to swim or at least
how not to break

#lacrimamosaest

i dress my feelings
in peculiar clothes
made of purple powder
sewed with sunrays and dry blood

splashing them with drops of twilight
and grains of white gold
i sit them nicely
on the shore of the world

i thread my feelings
through the evening fog
and I feed them with music
played by the tempest god

hiding them behind
the rising waxing gibbous
i disect their reasons
and let them grow cold

i glue my feelings
to the falling red orb
and as it plunges into the sea
i hear them calling
full of grace and glee:

‘Come with us!
Drown yourself free!”

#bikeshapedheart

the wheels of my heart
get flat tires
almost every single morning

sometimes i try to breathe life
into them
instead of air
to help them carry me
through
another day of mourning

other times there’s nothing to be done

and while they lay deflated
like plastic-filled whales
on plastic-filled shores
you come out of nowhere
and fill them up with
an almost indistinguishable feeling
of blue remorse

that’s usually more than enough
to fill them up
but sometimes, just sometimes
the tires of my heart’s wheels
are so full of your scent
that it’s simply too much to handle
too much to take in
and all they can do
is blow themselves up

the scratched frame
the rusty chain
the crumbs and leftovers
of rummaged pain
the oiled brakes
the dusty pedals
the protective metals
they all collectively applaud
the explosion
and out of nowhere a relative truth
is spoken:

“You can’t be ridden, heart!
Your only purpose is to be broken!”

 

#oneday

one day
a song played
by a legion of train rails
went straight through my chest

like a lightning
its melody nailed my breath
to a wall
breeding unrest

its piercing flow made
my ribs give birth
to a bouquet of cactus flowers
blossoming fiercely

and thorns grew wildly
from my soul
drilling wounds
large enough to allow it to sprout
wings made of gold and snow

one day
the fog holding my thoughts
jailed
dissipated

its thick drops of fear and confusion
fading through the sewers of my
gray matter
started sweating

its pathetic illusion
dripping and draining
insinuated new flavours
to living and fighting
forgiving myself
and
forgetting

one day
the streams of my eyes
changed paths

flowing inwardly
they burned their bridges
and told me:

“the future is now
the present is past
all that has happened is already gone
always is almost never forever
so dare
to live on.”

#asortafairytale

sometimes sunrises have
the consistency
of grapefruits
the sun, soft and sour
peeling through the skins of the sky

closing chapters
barely remembered
shapeshifting
i float
through a dream
in which i m not afraid to
crumble
or to let the tender space
between my thoughts
grow into a maddening scream

the shadow of a man
with sharp iron crystals
growing out his face
both frightening and appeasing
tells me stories using the language
of waves

she says that
maybe death looks like
the image of a black and white
television
closing
the visuals reduced to a dot
sucked in by a black hole
a speck of dust
pulverized into the unknown

he trembles and lovingly curses
my soul

eagles start growing from my arms
snakes drag their wisdom
through my weary bones
pulsating eardrums surround me
all the while
one last full moon
cracks in two
and my spirit dissolves

#thatmorning

i forgot
to wake up my body
that morning
some butterfly wings
held it nailed
to a coffin of dreams

voices of children
screamed from the drain
that morning
and the air was
smelling of disappointed rain
and tears

stubborn questions
were still hanging
right under my thirsty nostrils
that morning
and the passing of time
left trails of bliss

a gigantic eye
watched me closely
that morning
from under the shop window sills
the relativity of existence
embraced me and my longing
and despite the blue skies
i still felt one with my fears

a summer’s whisper
came out of the trees
that morning
taking my eyes for a dance
with their branches and leaves

while i quietly sipped my sweet venom
that morning
realizing that only
in the afterglow
i’ve felt something
remotely resembling
freedom and peace

#soaked

a storm is coming
an obscure foaming abyss

billions of golden grains
slithering
right beneath
my cracked lips

thunder and lightning
kissing and colliding
in a mysterious suggestion
of bliss

drops of heat
smoothly exploding
under the surface
of my itching skin

chance encounters
afterglowing
from the glitter
within

grapes of rapture
purple and sour
gliding
down my throat

all of them visions
rising
from a sea of jellyfish
love

#mydearestroot

your whiteness
makes my soul implode
reminds me that time
is this thing
that passes

regardless of whether
i wait
or not

your distant
milky eyes
having seen so much
remind me of how much I’ve missed
and of how little I’ve touched

your focused energy
plummeting
reminds me still of how much of my life
I’ve spent
mourning something i have not yet lost

my dearest root

i’ve cried years of tears
at the sheer thought that one day
you’ll just rot
leaving me rootless
distraught
to contemplate all that
i have not managed to learn
from your wisdom
and everything that i won’t ever be taught

my dearest root

it’s times like these
that the sand in my bones
tells stories
about all the moments i haven’t cherished
and all the memories
i’ve already forgot

my dearest root

i’ve never told you this
but

i love
you

with
all
my
heart

#thismorning

did you hear
the dolphins calling

this morning

did the seagulls already
announce my demise

did the opaqueness
carry you further from me

did you even think to look
through the glass of my eyes

were your eyelids
sticky with thirst

this morning

were you feeling tired
as if you’ve been dreamed about

were you fighting to
remember forgetting something

were you suddenly quiet
or were you swiftly blind

have i blinked since hearing
the ocean’s roar

this morning

have i sipped the venom
of my own longing

have i cried a bucket of sea-salt
have i drowned a few times in the dirt

have i tried redefining the purpose of clouds
and did they tell you

how much i hurt?

#nightterrors

last night
i was awoken
by a soul 
exiting a body
in my back garden
i was dragged out
of a complicated story
and couldn’t understand
if the sound I was hearing
was crying
or laughter

the music of this soul
made its way through
the empty darkness
composing a liquid wall
of painful imagined whispers
and recipes for disaster

then this bodyless soul
floated next
to my cracked bedroom window
peeking through
at my barren limbs
throwing trasparent
bricks at my heavy glowing head
snatching my lost soul
from my fettered chest
and releasing it
into limbo

#strawberryfromhell

turbulent translucent
dreamscapes
have painted over
today’s cloudy reality
and between do’s and don’ts
a half-rotten
strawberry
glides forward
timidly avoiding
becoming a fatality

my ambitions seem to be
growing new leaves
and blue flowers
laid upon
a pristine meadow of
unsavoured showers of dust
but the strawberry’s still
rotten inside
and the staleness ensues
breeding queasiness and disgust

trepidations and yearnings
engage in a war
and swirling
right behind my left eyeball
there’s a whole downpour
of sorrow and gore
while the shortness of life
stays ashore
and the strawberry’s frailty lays
naked and grimy
under my heart’s bleeding floor

#electriclizard

lizard skin
shedding
each time the wind blows
heavy
each time the sea of her blood
takes her thoughts
for a swim

lizard tail
electric
braided in one thousand stories
collected
in drops of due
reluctantly green
and suspiciously frail

lizard eyes
rolling
continuosly spinning around
their own orbit
following trails of life
foraging through intricate
silhouettes of untold lies

lizard heart
beating
only once in a while
listening closely
to all the unspoken clarities
of everything that will never be
and all that won’t ever start

#ieatpretenseforbreakfast

i’ve replanted myself
in fresh mud

my meat
excited to meet new worms
sings softly
poems from other worlds

infatuated bruised toes
give confused speeches
about the highs and the lows
of imaginary friends
and desirable foes

silent fingers
spread all over this blue afternoon light
sprinkled with sunrays
and topped with the remains of an
unfought fight

and a wild erection of hairs
rushes through my arms
as soon as the same thought makes
its cruel way back to my

shattered

pretense

of a heart

#writingsonmywall

‘slippery when wet’
take caution,
when attempting to 
slide through my valleys
of ash and sweat

‘just painted’
adjust your touch
to carefully suit
all in me
that’s obsolete and faded

‘not allowed to enter’
but please make way for
a bulldozer of rumaged feelings
straight from
the ghetto of my soul’s center

‘parking forbidden’
but listen
i’d rather not park my heart
in that puddle anyway
i’d prefer it to stay
grounded in my bottomless hole

all hidden.

#outofspace

today i invited space
to enter my vertebrae
i made space in my chest
for the watermelon scented breeze
that was licking my retina

i asked space
to come in my arteries
so that the ilustrious confusion of
wind-scattered thoughts could make its
way towards one of my hearts
and sit there nicely

i dreamed of space saved for
a nightmarish foreplay
and for a majesticaly avoided eye
embrace

i shared space with the wheel of fortune
which amusingly enough
has spawn so much joy
that it’s now stuck
and completely devoid of good luck
spins backwards

and within all of this space
i puked fuchsia waterfalls of
blossoming flowers
that went on to cover-up all of the
pain and sadness
and rid the grief of all of
its powers

#allheart

she makes her way
from the small of my back
upwards

glowing with insecurity
drilling holes
through my lungs

carefully squeezing
my vocal cords
confusing synapses
schreeching at the walls
closing in on my imagined self

inwards

searching for glimpses
of clarity
and finding
tears
hanged out to dry with vulgarity

greedily swallowing
grey matter
she moves
and then a sudden flutter
of wings
takes her further

beyond a redundant escape path
above a flight of fears
towards a delightful abyss
never more ready to take me apart

because she knows
that my brain
is all heart.

#saturday

another dusk
creeping outside
a breathless warm pressure
as if summer is just about to be born
but it’s taking her too long
to decide

a brew of unsung music
murmuring joyful life
implying boldly
that nothing can be
anything else
but right

the whirling sensation
comes sooner than expected
this syrupy saturday eve
slides faintly,
grows taller and darker
while everything
and everyone
seems to be
vaguely disconnected.

#tulips

some swirls of caramel
decorate the
borders of my mouth
and
my two lips
hover softly

an alien bird
whispers insolent callings
on the curve of my ear
and
her two lips
turn yellow with envious
yawnings

the purposeless tip
of a curious
bodily margin
occurs
while two lips
arise
shameless, frail and lethargic

my undressed thoughts
linger, viscous and thick
and his two lips
made of silk
shrivel with violence

#comagreen

it all began
with a green duck
dancing around in the brazen dark.
or wait,
maybe it all began
with a feeling of missed luck.
maybe it started in the memory of a dream
or maybe it never really started
so then how do i even begin?

a luscious unconsciousness
who are you
when you don’t remember who you are
or what you did
who’s speaking instead
and what kind of twisted illusion is formed
when laughter is strange and broken
and words are distant and torn?

who’s me when i fall asleep
and who was me
when i was born?

timeless glowing amnesia
a peaceful feeling of
nothingness
so tangible
and so clear
sparkled with bright flashes
of things that maybe
could have been real

and then silence, heavy and thick
protruding through
comatose pores
engulfing the greatness
of all that ever pretended to be
and everything
that never was.

#isthisit

this morning
instead of the sun
a collection of broken mirrors
arose
each piece sharper than the other
and all of them together
reminders of
everything that I’ve lost
and of all that I’d never
become.

my blood
tells nothing
shares no probability
gives not a single hint
as to why I only
fall in love with
impossibility

my trembling brains
scattered over pillows of smoke
to feel is to dream and
some dreams gently stroke
and rape reality

laughter, forgetfulness
the present moment
so much nowness
it doesn’t even need to be remembered
starting anew
with each blink
eyes springing
memory severed

snorting a gathering of borrowed
teardrops
carefully listening for meandering
hearts of the beat
kissing the bottled ashtray
tasting the pureness of
someone else’s heat

hissing in vain and sometimes,
just sometimes
asking myself
-is this it?
-is this it?!

#selfdestructionabc

Let’s dissociate together!
Bukowsky-ing through life
moderately drunk
and slightly depressed

licking poisoned ambrosia
off dirty windows
feelings
permanently supressed

perpetual anesthesia
mouth running on pavement
skin twitching with sawdust
eyes fragrant

cursed ragdoll
remember
life’s nothing but an understatement
we all die
and it just doesn’t matter
who’s first.

#epistaxis

enchanting drops lingering
on this evening’s veil
what has happened 
has happened
and will most likely happen again

what’s going on and off
with a c or a k
constantly choosing
to not choose
between needle and hay

her breath is peaceful
under transparent leaves
mirroring some kind of nowness
her wide gaze widening still
softly and steadily bleeds

#k

behold
the kreatures
of lightness and loss
konstantly circling
above the kristal kross

klimbing koconot trees
secretly konnecting koloured klouds,
konverging threads of kounsciousness
karving up dreams for korupted krowds

floating on a sunbeam
weightless and karefree
suspended in a bubble of steam
and kreeping alongside the music

happy outside, empty within

#sadsun

and on the seventh day
the energy had built up
the marks on my skin had broadened
the fear in my veins
overflowing
sneaked out
and turned into water

my brain’s branches
extended
lavishly crawling
silently moving outwards
through the corners of my eyes
uncertain excitement
dripping into uncertain lies

chewed lips runnning wildly
on the strawberry sun
lungs pumping frantically
clouding my heart with all
that’s been left undone
and rancid hairs robotically murmuring
‘just one…just one’

#heartdisease

heart shaped scar
throbbing
countless slippery slopes
painting reality
failing
dusting it all with low hopes

mornings tasting like metal
or blood,
trees decorated with limbs
weather smelling like tears
on my tongue.
thunder’s still hiding my screams

#nonsense

a white cat
hangs on the edge of my eye
runs circles around my head
asks me if i’ve considered
that maybe i’m already dead

nonsense

life is buzzing
through all
the dust i inhale
suspended i wait
anxious
to know if what i am
is what i am
or what i was

or neither

what i will be is as faded
as tomorrow
being itself
seems further
than myself.

and what
about
sorrow?

01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00101100 01100001 01101100 01110111 01100001 01111001 01110011 

raised hair
music coming from a dream
remembered
could have been from anywhere

confused
clarity rumbles gently
under pressure
thoughts chocking
with the measure of a heartbeat

he said
if you’re not busy living
you must be busy dying

i wonder
if all could be solved
without the relentless ticking
of the feelings-bomb

if there’d be a solution or more
for recovering
all the discarded
memories
i used to adore
replacing forgotten moments
with nowness and awe

an answer
bringing me
back
to myself

i haven’t asked anything though
so reflecting
i wonder
if going deeper into the hole
makes anything worth it
turns broken to whole
or if it’s all worth nothing at all

 

 

crippled magic

 

magical floating emotions
cornered lights
lighting corners
dusty surfaces of a
shared illusion of mind
covering sheltered feelings
looking for darkness
instead of scavanging for light
close your eyes and come in
seeing, saved for the those
without sin
echoed laughter
hearing, saved for those
crippled by tormented musical notes
sandy feathers lashing over
racing hearts
bursts of tears
feeling, saved for those
hiding

in shadows

of fears

eyelash violence

the curious music of eyelashes
glimpses of fire
rounding up sparks
so very different
goose-bumps of a
once known and felt feeling
gatherings of unexpected revelations
carelessly floating
submerging
a meeting
on silky wings of butterflies
bitter flies
accentuating tremors of souls
converging into feathered limitlessness
fettered freedom
glows.

don’t wake up.you’re not dreaming.

a convergence of mood swings
covering shifting continents of uncertainties
if you can be in love
can you also be in fear?
in hate
in any other feeling?
in wonder, i wonder if wonder’s a feeling
or if you’re wonderful
for feeling it
a disappearing act
a magnet attracting not quite perfectly
hesitation
drips from wet lips
and truthfully
savage winds storm
half-opened eyes
and the smell of coffee
and the white sheets of books without form
with no words and no titles
simply
yet to be born.

head barely above water

head barely above water
lingering eyes hanging on the agitated tremors of virgin leaves
scared airways murmuring
prayers
for forgotten wings,
unquestioned answers,
gazes lost in shady clouds of tantalizing thrills
powders evaporating
in smoked fragrances
sensory coincidences melting and roaming
mystical convergences of facts and fiction
imagined instances
bitterly defying reality’s whispers

severed

severed ties
engulfed
hanging from the ceiling of my mind
unedible lies of dormant micro-organisms of despair
clothed as spiders
covered in smear
locked down under layers of butterfly wings
dripping flows of endless streams sheltering dead fish
eyes open wider than wide
hunting mesmorising angles through the traps
behind the leaves of our past
there’s greenness
there’s life in a splash
of coloured amusement
smiles are sometimes just wrinkled disillusions
of the soul.
have you ever wondered what hides below?

or behind, or within. Behold

life

lived on the rim.

Cornerless room

Which corner of the room

does not feeling anything

begin in?

Does it begin

in the upper right corner?

Hanging like a melted

candy chandelier.

Falling on pots of grass

of different shapes and sizes.

Murmuring:

‘This too shall pass’.

Does it start in the invisible holes

drilled with diligent and determined

consistency?

Does numbness start

when when when

how how how

why why why

where where. Most importantly,

it starts

some where. Not just

any where. Also not

no where.

Maybe not feeling anything

does not even start.

Maybe it’s without beginning

and without end

for ever

and ever.