101;
I wake up before you;
sunlight through the window
reflects on your skin
and
everything else fades
you smell like sun warm apples
- it always undoes me
I should let you sleep,
hell, I should go back to sleep
yesterday's drinks are still buzzing in my head,
my body sore from hours on the dance floor
temptation;
I've never been strong enough
I can sense the city waking up,
slowly stretching towards the sun
faint traffic noises
but inside, here,
there's only us
my heartbeats feel empty,
no music to keep up with
no bass to take over,
snapshots from last night playing on my mind
my hands on your hips
your lips on mine
the taste of lemon drop on your tongue
and I can't anymore;
moving closer to you,
feeling the warmth of your skin
letting my finger move down your spine,
getting sidetracked by your tan lines
slowly kissing your shoulder blade
and lying here with you,
a slow saturday morning
feels like finally coming home
099;
I'm fine, I text him
at the same time
the tiny, red crescents
down my wrist are screaming
liar
I tell myself it's not self harm;
I don't even draw blood,
I don't carve new scars into my skin
- that's the line, right?
I'm fine
I don't think I've ever been fine
- these days I doubt I'll ever be
097;
I don’t keep tracks of the lies
told by others anymore;
for a while I would
carve
every single one of them
into my skin
every thin, pale scar a tally,
a reminder
- like I would learn from my own mistakes
laughable
I’m sure it made sense at one point,
but now I’ve lost the fucking plot.
He must have told me
I love you
a hundred times -
I don’t have enough untouched skin
for his fucking lies
096;
penance noun
[countable, usually singular, uncountable] (especially in particular religions) an act that you give yourself to do, or that a priest gives you to do, in order to show that you are sorry for something you have done wrong
No Lies, Just Love song
So please forgive what I have done
No you can't stay mad at the setting sun
Cause we all get tired, I mean eventually
There is nothing left to do but sleep
(I will be pure)
095;
I instantly find your eyes
on the dance floor -
when you know someone
the way I know you,
you can always find them
we pull towards each other
gravity
it's simple physics, baby
I'm unsteady in my high heels,
too many drinks;
too much alcohol in my blood
you have that rhythm in your body;
the one I envy
the music seems to flow through you
seamlessly, harmoniously
I can't move like that,
it's never been nature to me
&
even if I've seen it so many times,
seen your fluent moves countless times
I never grow tired of it -
it's the same way you move around his body
under his hands
when we're all in bed together,
your body is like music on my lips,
poetry on my tongue
& I never want the music to end
093;
I know better than to stare into mirrors in the dark;
that's where the monsters hide,
tricking your brain into seeing demons
I move through my apartment in the dark
becoming nocturnal is an easy choice;
the daylight tames nightmares and personal demons -
I don't dream of her, no lingering smell of apples,
I don't dream of him, no taste of ashes in my mouth
it's a small reprieve,
one that I'm thankful for
092;
I want to ghost an entire country,
switch my life for someone else’s -
maybe there’s no happiness to be found for me
; but at least then I’ll know for sure
091;
I deleted his text without replying;
it took all the restraint I had within me,
but I still see it when I close my eyes
word by word
and even though I know
he's all empty promises and hope
no one has ever known me the way he knows me
089;
(TW - sexual abuse)
{
I'm back at my parents house
it's night and I'm on the couch;
the tv is muted,
walls occassionally lit up by passing cars
I'm trying to breathe,
the panic holding a tight grip on my lungs
shallow breaths, so shallow
tears running down my cheeks
my whole body is hurting
everyone is sleeping
he's asleep in my bed
I'm quiet as a mouse;
I've had a lot of practice falling apart quietly
my phone vibrates in my hand,
I can't see the blurred message,
but I know who it is,
someone who just happened to be online
someone who I just reconnected with a week ago
- maybe my saviour tonight?
}
I wake up, panic clawing its way through my throat;
the pain is still present throughout my body and
I stand up, trying to get away from the bed,
before I realise it was just a dream
- a dream of a very real memory
my brain, still half asleep,
working on putting the pieces together
and then it hits me like a brick,
I flinch as the memory takes form in my head;
he's holding me hard against him,
his arms wrapped tightly around me
the amount of times I said no doesn't matter
I'm too tired to argue with him
so I don't protest, I just let him
I'm laying on my side with him behind me
- my body isn't ready at all
and it hurts so much
I try to push the memory from my head,
successfully forgotten for so many years
my whole body is shaking,
remembering
hurting
I start moving towards my phone,
but I sit down on my bed instead,
falling apart completely
;
I don't care who hears my panic this time
087;
he traces my scars
like they’re a mean of navigation;
a map,
a star chart
sometimes, he pauses
looks at me
I can sense his question
through the silence
I want to tell him,
that the only thing
he’ll discover here
is how deep my self loathing goes
but I just shrug
I know he’s temporary,
they never stay for long
he has that spark in his eyes
love is still a miracle for him
- it’s just a poison to me
086;
Happy birthday, hun
I love you very, very, very, very, very, very, very much
even if you’re not here anymore
you’re still in my thoughts, my dreams;
so many memories of us together
so much longing and sorrow,
I don’t know how to fit it all into a life time
I still carry you with me
everywhere I go
sometimes people argue
that it’s not healthy;
screw them
they never knew us
085;
like calls to like
she said
and then I knew
that I could never date you;
if you're anything like me,
I won't stand a minute alone with you
084;
and to realise,
after all this time
that you’re not
the yellow bird
that I’ve been waiting for
;
absolutely
heartbreaking
082;
I can tell by the way that he answered the phone that he was asleep.
"I’m sorry, I’m so sorry."
"No problem, what time is is? Hold on..."
I hear how he’s searching for something.
"What are you doing?"
"I just need my glasses."
"It’s 2 am and I called to talk, glasses aren’t connected to your ability to speak?"
"Don’t wake me up just to mock me.."
"I didn't... I-I’m sorry..."
Most people that I know would, if being called at 2 am, tell me to go to sleep and call them again in the morning, but not him. I knew this.
"What’s on your mind?"
I want to tell him that my mind is completely shattered, thoughts are flying past me like they were cars on the Autobahn and I can’t stop it. I want to tell him that I am so, so, so lonely. I want to tell him that all my friends are moving forward
and here I am walking backwards, retracing my own footsteps. I want to tell him that life still feels like a play where everyone else got character descriptions and lines in a manuscript, while I’m just improvising, afraid to ask for directions, help,
anything. I want to tell him that what my ex said years ago still haunts me to the point of crippling anxiety if I start to think about it too much. I want to tell him how my mother thinks I’m too independent and therefore not able to have lasting
relationships with men. I want to tell him how badly I want an expiration date for grieving, how I want the memories of her to slowly fade, how I don’t want to wake up with the feeling of her touch still lingering on my skin. I want to tell him that
I didn’t know a single person could contain so much longing for lost things.
My mind is a spiral. I realise I’ve been quiet for too long when he checks in on me.
"Luu, are you still there?"
"Yea, sorry."
And here’s the second reason I called him: he doesn’t pry further, he doesn’t ask anything else, he starts to tell me about his day. I hang on to his words, like they’re the anchor that can ground me somewhere;
oh how I would give up anything to not be driftwood anymore.
081;
I've made so so so so many mistakes
but no,
you were not one of them
080;
You sent me a letter,
an actual, oldfashioned letter,
wrote; spilled your soul out on a piece of paper
maild it across the country
wrote about how you're getting sober,
how you don't do anything you used to anymore;
changes,
becoming someone else.
I remember the nights;
alcohol flowing,
I remember the swift motion
of a rolled up bill against my skin -
more for show than for practical use.
We were young,
oh so young
oh so naive
oh so unaware of consequenses.
You were always the most charming drunk,
polite,
always looked immaculate -
no matter the amount of drinks you'd had:
now I can see through that,
can see that it was a facade
so people wouldn't know the truth.
I admire your efforts
breaking free of old patterns are hard,
I hope you find what you're looking for;
redemption,
forgiveness,
kindness
happiness.
078;
Den här passitiviteten,
som en dimma i hjärnan
skriker mentalt på mig själv medan jag ser livet i revy
kan fortfarande ta beslut,
vara handlingskraftig om det påverkar andra än mig själv
och mina ägodelar
men mitt eget liv?
Smulor.
Går här i vardagen, väntar på en uppsägning
och det här med att inte kunna påverka,
inte kunna ändra något,
maktlösheten
är så förlamande och frustrerande att jag kapitulerar.
Ringer F när ångesten kommer för nära,
ibland på nätterna glömmer jag hur man andas och då finns han där.
Någon som jag aldrig har träffat,
men som känner mig bättre än min egen familj.
Frågar; is this really what life is supposed to be?
På något sätt är det lättare att lämna ut sig själv
på ett annat språk - även om det stapplar.
Har svårt att hitta orden, oavsett språk,
min hjärna är så otroligt seg och dimmig;
de säger att det beror på stress,
jag vill bara att det ska vara över.
"On a slow day the rain against the windowpane of the cafe
She spills the coffee grounds
And the same thought hits her like cinder block
Life's an odd job that she don't got the nerve to quit"
Conor Oberst, Tachycardia
077;
tänker tillbaka till en stuga i en skog
en natt med en man bredvid mig;
ett sms: det här är inte kärlek
(det är fortfarande inte kärlek)
den här gången;
ensam i en soffa
uppgiven
tänker tillbaka på de gröna väggarna hos psykologen
tänker på Leo
på Aslan
det är här jag blir vacker
(vad hände med livet?)
i det förgånga brann det eldar;
olagliga fester i industriområden,
musiken så nära -
basslag istället för hjärtslag,
en hand i min; gick vilse i
dina alldeles för stora pupiller
(jag vill gå under med dig)
men bara en del av mig dog med dig
jag älskade aldrig livet;
men jag älskade dig
075;
Even years after disaster struck
I still sleep with my phone on.
I keep waiting for the call to come in,
somehow, in its own twisted way
it is reassuring,
meaning that even after the worst thing
that could happen has happened,
there is still more to lose.
There are always disasters waiting to happen.
My phone is never turned off,
it is never left behind.
I can always be reached,
awoken from sleep,
disturbed at work -
even if it is already too late.
I will always wonder,
will alway try to find an answer
as to why you did not call me.
I would have left everything and everyone behind
for you.
That night, that man, totally meaningless-
but you,
you were my universe.
Your phone was found next to you,
so why did you not call me?
074;
it’s snowing -
& my mind is occupied with memories of you
I don’t even pretend like it’s healthy anymore
I shoved the past -
and all the hurt and anxiety and tears and sadness,
that came with it
far far far away and never looked back
it took a few years
but now it’s back -
without even as much as a knock -
the past just confidently strode in and took over
& oh my
the things I didn’t even remember
the things I successfully forgot for years
now consuming my every thought
my every dream
I wake up with your name on my lips,
can still feel the lingering touch
of your hands on my skin
it was just a dream -
I keep telling myself,
it’s not just dreams though:
it’s memories
my mind a broken player;
stuck on repeat repeat
repeat
it’s as if the past is a prison
and I’m sentenced for life