Poetry
this ones about yoga.
Something about falling out of feather clouds and watercolour skyline blended to perfection the car salesman’s blessing the owner of creation the moldy carpet basement showing up with expectations never gave me a happy ending.
I love my splattered water bottle the dog and I aren't friends So what I like to play with knives So what I talk to myself.
The pink floral pattern on the chair is finally snapping as I wake up before my alarm to tell the clock it's morning i’m tired of the cold my toes and fingers stiff and
I didn't think I could bend like this.
maybe you know
who you are.
The washed up ship fish didn't show any resemblance with a face full of lines on a map. Still the marker in the corner only clothed in cool colours waiting to shave a head or go to bed. Afraid of the lighting and afraid that I'm trying but you don't want the snakes up your drain. And I'm done with long drives in my car. And you do the same thing every night. And you’ll never see me lying on my couch in the dark. Replaying the same songs gears in park. So we kiss and then forget about it. Till they told me at the paper store I shouldn't have to try so hard. Then asked me am I paying cash
or card.
In the wind it blows down and the lawn mows over ground.
So now do you know who you are?
Foma
Masturbating
In my mirror
Is a
Pleasure.
This is just
Everyday
For me.
That is a lie.
Is there a
Difference between
Life and
A dream,
The seen
And unseen.
I have a cute freckle
And
Nice view
of my room.
This is what
I do
at noon.
That is a lie.
They all want
the skin
of a youth.
Kill me
And take mine.
We can
Taunt death
Right back,
Ya know?
About innocence //or fucking my coworker//
My petals arranged in a delicate way
Enough to want to split the seed in two.
Wanting to give hope to the water heater
That thirst is still quenched in this room.
Gnawing at apples or pears
Or crisp fruit.
Seductively a saint while I walk back to my car
Alone
In the dark
Half expecting to find a backseat full.
Hand puppets made of breadcrumbs
To feed malnutrition to the ducks.
I've chewed the stem through the core.
It's not just a boy it’s a whore.
When he can only sit down
And relieve and relax
To my sound that he’ll go back in.
Time to whistle with
Fingertips
And soggy tissues next to his.
Dream dream dream tell me more lies check it out on my website
She was not disturbed. She made that very clear in her note.
She made it very clear you'd find her in the ocean when she left.
That the waves will have pulled her down.
And she's alright with it, just wanted you to know.
She is fine to be eaten alive.
She fills up populated places with the tilt of her tongue and
The bat of her eye.
She loves to be loved as much as you try to erase
Yesterday's nightmare.
She fills up a glass jar to be shaken
And crumbles to coffee beans, cacao nibs and rose petals.
She wore all blue only
On days like today.
When everybody was happy enough,
Without her gold glitter and pink slip dress.
She kept close
Her dreams of being chased
And disappointing the galaxies and stars.
I know only one thing to be true.
I make it up as I go.
Call me a cab home?