Mocking Bird
Tangled in purple and turquoise threads, in truths that used to be lies and lies that used to be truths. I cannot seem to find my way through these dull stars. Through reflections and shadows, through dissolving towers, that yesterday stood among white gold moons. I have walked through worlds that shivered with grief, that rippled from torment. And worlds that dazzled like abundant dreams. Intangible worlds. Fragile. They shudder as I lift my eyelids. & I’m lost again like rain and tears; the walls around me crack and I can’t paint it all they way the were before. I can’t play this game of deception anymore. The colourful facets and false memories. The running mascara

Memories
Some call it a gift, but it’s my curse – to see through the walls of all worlds, possible and impossible, past and future. I can feel the pain of every butterfly you kill, of every flower you step on. I can see what you could never dare and I remember everything. The melodies and orbits of the universe, the heart and brightness of the sun stars and the absolute emptiness of a black hole, all contained with a dream, a dream of pain and roses. I know you and I’ll never forget.

The excited Chihuahua

Roses in the hospital
People would never understand. About the nightmares that crawl underneath her skin. About the pain and the roses. Those red roses she keeps underneath her pillow. She has used the thorns to bleed herself alive, at those dark days of stillness and endless repetition of whiteness, of bareness around her. But there are other days too. The days she collects the roses. Those incredibly fast, radiant days when she runs with palms full of sun, eyes like volcanoes, heart like neverland and breathes out glitter and kaleidoscopic worlds. Are you on cocaine? asks the doctor. No, she replies, unable to sit still, unable to still the tornado of thoughts that seem

Hurricanes and star-rains
Time moves in circles. Clockwise. Anti-clockwise. Existence becomes intangible; it cracks with our every movement. & We fall through coiled labyrinths that lead into motionless worlds with reigning emptiness. We can feel every hard edge and every fracture of the world; it hurts. Winter will soon come and this toxic feeling of absence will grow stronger. We do not pretend to understand how this works. You don’t hold my hand and I don’t move towards you. We stand next to each other: with glazed lips and caked eyes, full of fire. With burning suns in the place of our hearts and thoughts travelling at the speed of light. We give up sleeping and taking our meds. We want