There were nights where she would stay up
Reading soultearing poems just to feel something
And ****, did she feel something

She felt gravity pushing on her
Filling every space for oxygen
Like dirt on a casket

She felt the way the earth rotated
And moved through the galaxy
As the moon continuously
Played with the tide of the seven seas

She felt a kind of hunger
That made her sick
A type of fear
Thats not worth fighting
And war

She'd rip her heart out
And her soul to pieces
Just to feel a glimpse of love

Anything, to feel nothing.

I used to wake up, six in the morning. Just enough time to smoke one before class.
Made me feel nothing for about two years.
Till my chimeras found me, through my buzz.
Tried pills, didn't work the way I planned.
First time in my life I felt even more than I was used to.
Got scared.
Maybe there is no medicin.
So the shrink gave me some medicin.
Made me numb for about six months.
Untill I lost my believes in placebo.
Tried ******* my feelings out.
Dug up some more issues.

And now, I've been sitting here, for the last two hours.
Staring at my wall.
It tells me in a foreign language that I am strong.
I painted that ****. I believed in it.
I'm not a bit stronger than the substances inside me.

Slowly I am getting rid of
All the layers of smells in this bed.
I'm keeping my own this time.

I am an addict.

Every picture of my childhood shows me holding a man or a man holding me.
They thought it was cute.
Twelve birthdays later he still never showed
and they don't think it is cute no more.
They're right.
It's desperate.

But isn't the point of getting sober to find happiness.
Well I'm sober now.
And I know the only thing right now that can fix me

is the dark hairs on the back of a hand or
that smell they all wear.

And if it's true that we always stay addicted,
I am ******.

If you would read my poems
and ask what they're about,
I would lie
and say
not you.

Some nights you hit my dreams
Just as sudden as you left my reality.

Sometimes I get so positive
I scare myself to death.
I see beauty that does not excist
and I feel loved
by people who have never loved anything before.
I have fallen for the most terrible men,
I felt at home in the most hatefull families,
and now I look at you
and I see the best in you
even though you never did.

I'm a victim of my own optimism.

How do I write down
the facts
of the nine year old me,
shivering at night
at the thought of his eyes.
How do I tell a stranger
without any tears
that he can't be a father,
never could, never will.
These words get stuck
halfway my throat,
and the awkward feeling
grows.
Everytime I try,
second time
I see him go.

You trace your fingers carefully across my dark side
As you tell me it won't scare you
But it does me
Your tranquility does

I am diving deeper into my demons
While holding up on your strength
The fear in me arises
What if you made me jump too soon?

I miss your twelve inches.
The dimples in your chin,
When you were guessing if I was kidding.
(Hungover questions like
Did we have *** last night?)
I miss your O-face,
And the fact you only pulled it for me.
I never fell in love with you,
Only with your absence.

For the past two months
I've been running away scared
After carefully coming closer
And I swore this was the last time
But all the chaos in my world
Tumbles down in so much grace
Everytime it is silenced by your calm voice
For a last "sleep well, my love".

I am falling in love again.

This is me, self-destructing. I will lie in front of him, naked, look into his eyes the way he wants me too and whisper in his ear the things he dreamt about. I will touch him, wherever he wants to be touched, just so he will stay the night, maybe even come back next week, when his **** wants to fill something up. And I'll be that for him. I will be that ****, but I'll be the best **** he's ever had. Cause that's the only thing I'm good at when it comes to men. I cannot be myself with them. I cannot make them fall in love with me, or make them stay. I can **** them off and hear them say that was the best ******* they've ever had. But when my anxieties kick in, they aren't here.

I am falling in love again.
Please, do it different this time. Please just walk away.

You don't know what your words can do.
They hold me, spin me around.
From you might be in love to the smallest goodbyes,
rolled I forth and back chasing the words.
They ooze out your lips, right through me.
I'll do whatever they say.
I can crawl for you,
cry for you,
drink with you,
ride on you,
just to hear your words,
fall down my chest
and say
*Bye, honey

I am too loud.
Too energetic.
I expect too much. It's so selfish.
I'm lazy.
Don't do **** around the house.
I'm too much of a girl and too little of a lady.
I'm too touchy.
Too scared of rejection.
When I'm asleep, I make noise and move too much.
I loose or break something every ******* week.
When I'm drunk, I think I'm so much tougher than I actually am.
And I'm such a bad friend.
A terrible daughter.
A despicable girlfriend.

You think you're ******* perfect.

What would be the point of love
When we wouldn't face it
Naked
And ready to let it break us into a million pieces
Give it all the freedom to destroy us
Because we know how beautiful tragedy can be

If living wasn't fearless
It'd just be running out of breathes..

I just want to hide my face in your warm chest during autumn
while I try to not think of everything I should be studying.
And we could stop time right there and never end up
at the part where I get scared and run away or desperately hold on.
We can stay there, on our safe one-person matress.

The candles in my window have melted.
That's no big deal, I don't remember  the last time they were romanticising this room.
The streets are dry, the people here aren't used to it.
They live on the edge of sleep,
stopped eating two weeks ago.
Nobody touch me.

Untill suddenly the clouds shatter on our roof.

I like the sight of my room
With your pants on the ground
And my bed looks more comfortable
With you (slightly snorting and) rolling around
Somehow your body makes my skin look healthy,
******* are out of this world when you help me,
My clothes fit me better when you say you like them,
My ******* seem to grow every second you strike them,
My jokes aren't stupid when I see you smile,
Worries aren't worries when you talk for a while,

I guess the point of what I'm trying to say,
Is that I like having you here, so please stay.

Is there some kind of rule for
how many flashbacks
of you saying home
and forgetting the your?

Is there someone to answer
the question of how long
it takes to stop seeing
your clothes on the floor?

Is there any book written
on stages of heartbreak
and how to get over
not being enough?

Is there some sort of method
that makes us immune
for the things that destroy us
when we fall in love?

I thought of love all this time as something
I had to find
So I spent my life searching
Just to watch it leave

And then him
He didn't just love me
He remindend me
I was never anything but love

There are glasses and bottles
Lines joints and hands full
There's evenings and weekends
And mornings we wake.

There are men and their bodies
And girls and their skin
There are kisses and touches
And oh for **** sakes.

There are sisters and mothers
Good-for-nothing fathers
There's uncles who managed
To fix some of the break.

There's jobs and there's classes
There's friends and there's lovers
There's me in the middle
More than I could take.

I feel
Exactly
Nothing

She lies against him.
Washes his skin with her mouth.
He sleeps.
Sometimes he pushes her eager lips away
and she's hurt for some seconds,
than carries on
licking.
She tries to crawl as close as she can
into his warmth,
he doesn't even notice.
He's dreaming about a world
where every bird is slow
and every human lets him eat their meat.

I remember her
Running up and down the bridge next to our house at midnight
I remember her screaming
I remember her body, almost lifeless, as we tried to pull her out of bed every morning
I remember all the things that were said when she wasn't around to hear
I remember agreeing with them, then hating myself for it
I remember the back of her head on a staircase when I was twelve
I remember her diaries
Our mother crying while asking me for advice

I remember all the bad days
Bur I cannot find the one that quenched her fire
The one that made her whist

I don't know what scares me the most.

The loneliness or the freedom.
Thirty-one days are a lot when you have no obligations.
Nothing to complain about, I'm not used to that.
For the first time of my life I can wake up,
ask myself,
"what do you want to do today?"
And what if I don't know?
What if I don't like myself,
when I have to spend a month alone with me.
What if I'm a bad person?
Or nobody will miss me?
Forget about me and why they liked me.

What if I find out where all my pain comes from.

No madame, I refuse
to do this one more time.
By the sight of my eyes on him
I can feel a danger coming.
I will not let a man, so beautiful,
destroy me once again.
Madame, please help me
for I am afraid.
I don't want him to break my bones
with every kiss he plants.
For he can make me take my weapons off
with the sparkle in his eye.
Madame, please, don't let me
do this one more time.
For I will not let the man go,
But he will not be mine.

I blame you, dad
For all the ****** up things I do to myself
I blame you for the meds I take
I blame you for the guys I choose
I blame you for everytime I fall in love and every anxiety attack
I blame you when my body starts to tell me that I'm wrong
I blame you for all this ****
For me desperately loving my uncle
Untill the point that I'm terrified that maybe
Just maybe
He doesn't like everything about me
Just like I do with every ******* guy
And I blame you
I wish you were different
And here
I wish you'd just think of these things
And care
Just a little
But you don't
And I can't figure out how you do that
So I blame you

He thought he could fix her
But he would always forget
She had to feel her own skin
Everytime he held her hands

But every night I fall into
Sleepstained dreaming
And with every hour
Another layer falls off of me
One made of strength
One of resistance
I am undressed as the sun chases the moon back
Into another illuminated day
One made of fear
One of identity
I don't know whether losing them
Feels lighter or more heavy
The truth presses on me now
And it's impossible to ignore
One made of hope
One of idealism

I am naked
My cold skin is unprotected
If there is sun, I can see
When it rains, I weep
But I find every morning
That if there is silence
And my layers aren't there to mask
I am darkness
Pure darkness
Waiting for dawn to come

You taught me so much.
I ****** a guy last week.
I didn't moan for his pride.
I just let him release me,
but not shower that night.

You should see what I learned.
I needed attention,
then turned down the sweet guy.
And his tears did not shake me.
I got bored of his cries.

I am proud to say that
my weakness has passed.
For this time is real,
I am not made of water
no longer, I'm steel.

You still take my breathe sometimes,
and my mouth craves to speak all the vowels of your name.
Oh how the memory of your touch still echos through this town and all drunken dark alleys always lead to your voice.

If I could go back I would have never met you because all we learned this time is that life was still a *****,
no matter how well you mean or how hard you try or how sincere it feels.

I'd give so much to erase you and your ghost that's watching over everything I do.
Sometimes I find it staring at me or whispering terrible things to my mind at night.
You were good for nothing, not a lesson learned.
Everytime I pass that balcony my heart forgets to beat.
I still spend hours fighting feelings that were supposed to be long gone and (godverdomme ik mis je)

And it just won't stop

He never gave us one cent.
Some months we had no light and we pretended that we liked using just candles.

Mommy, he's asleep.

She worked for two.
We only got ourselves in more debts.

Where's his jacket?
In the hall.

We hadn't seen him in years,
I had guessed what he looked like.

Are we really gonna do this?

He bought us a bottle of something we didn't like,
thank drank it and passed out.

Yes, we need it.

He had a stack of hundred dollar bills in his pocket.
He always said he was a business man,
but nobody had ever seen him work

Do you think this is enough?

He never gave us one cent.
We never took one from him.

You are not broken
He said
You are whole
And you are amazing

And right there, I believed him
I could see a glimpse of myself through his eyes
Powerful and soft all at once

You are not afraid to live
You are not afraid to féél*

And he was right
For once I had been scared
But right there I existed out of nothing but
What I felt for this man

We strip down to our souls.
And we wear softer voices,
as we lay
imprisoned in bodies and sheets.
We rest our heads on the idea of safety and
we warm our hands on affection.
Your lips melt deep into my skin,
as my fingertips burn through yours.
Tangle me with words and whispers,
which I can not hear
but understand.
And I will try and do anything
to stop the world from shifting for even a minute,
just to lie with you one more.

If I could I would have hidden the pills and never wear my robe.

Is that why you left, baby?

I could have closed my eyes on nights like this instead of latching onto you.

Would that make you stay, darlin?

I should have laughed at none of your jokes, nor cried at all your kisses.
Let your hand go in public.
Take your t-shirt off.
Left.

I could have tried to love you less, would you still love me, honey?

I stopped writing the day I left you
Because with 1300 miles to seperate us
I am slowly forgetting what it feels like
To feel gravity pushing on me through your body
Or to hear you whisper me to sleep

I quit singing in the shower
The moment I got on that plane
Because no bathroom echoes the way yours does
And no water can rinse you into me

I've been turning into something since that day
Something not made of my particles
And I think it has to do with
Them still sticking to your skin

The first day we met
she wrote about me in her diary.
She liked my shoes
and that I smoked too.

They had warned me about her.
Stories in the paper of a young girl in a coma.
It fascinated me.
Nobody thought we'd stay friends.

But we did.

This one time, she snapped at me.
I made a promise to myself that night.
I would never forgive her.

But I did.

Lately she's been seeing things.
Nobody else can see them.
A fake smile of mine, a dishonest joke.
It makes me feel secure.
Last sunday she kept saying
how good I looked that day.
It makes me feel beautiful.

The chances are we'll grow apart.
Never think of one another.

**But I like to think we won't.

It surprises me,
how many times you still visit my thoughts.
I must have loved you.
Your stupid, arrogant talks,
as if you knew everything about **** and training.
Your white-trash romance,
that time you stood in front of my house,
a picked flower in one hand
a stolen tray of sushi in the other.
I loved the idea of us.
Teenage love, strong and
I know now, also short.
Our first **** on too much speed,
your friend in the same room
passed out and puking.
I didn't mind us fighting,
though I would have never admitted.
Familiar,
suitable for the Bonnie and Clyde thing
I wanted.
I liked waiting for you
worried
when you went out to paint at night.

But then, we went from trailer trash lovers
to bits of things we used to do,
in less than a second.