loss

Surgery

Maybe picking up yourself is the hardest

When you have taken an oath 

To twist the knife to your wounds 

And decided to bleed. 

How do you take a step back

Pull the knife  out of you

Free yourself from the sweet pain of disaster 

That you’ve become to accustomed to

Perform the surgery. 

Pull the knife out

Amputate the gangrene

Stitch yourself up

And stand straight

Without the pain. 

Again. 

How would it feel to fly

After crawling for ages

How would it feel to try

Once again what you’ve tried

And failed. 

Maybe while at it

I’ll push the knife deeper and deeper. 

Hurt the ones around me

And sicken the hell out of them

Because who wants a person who wants to die

Whose basic instinct runs upstream 

The fishes that dream

What a beauty will you be

If you perform the fucking surgery

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Move

Move your battle away from the time

When you felt like your trust was taken piece by piece and shot down until it was beyond repair. 

Move your battle away from the feeling 

When your heart skipped a beat,  not in love but surrounded by fear and insecurity. 

Move your battle away from the life

Where you lived in a paranoia, an illusion that they were out to get you and you had to escape. 

Move your battle away from the hell

That you gave yourself for falling weak in your knees and giving yourself away for too little. 

Move your battle away from the death

Of happiness inside your body where every cell within you cried and hoped it would cease to exist. 

Move your battle away from the battles that need to be left alone.  The battles you don’t have to fight.  The battles you’re not meant to deal with.  

Your battle is life.  It is living.  Now.  Not then when things were happier or worse.  Now.  

Right fucking  now. 

Live. 

Fight the battle to live.  To feel.  To believe.  To recover.  

To love. 

Yourself first.  

The seventy fifth time

For

The seventy fifth time I repeat.

It’s okay.

It’s a ritual of each breath

Breathe in

Breathe out

Caught myself from falling down

And Collapsing in a heap

Bitter judgement

Better thoughts

Are yet to come.

For

The seventy fifth time I repeat

It’s okay

Believing in my voice

Is harder than before

It falters every bit

Settles the score

Of haunted dreams

Manifested in sound

It quivers with sadness

Built on hope

For

The seventy fifth time I repeat

It’s okay

Closing my eyes

Blocking the beauty

Blinding me from within

Hate rising up to my eyes

Brimming with tears

Ready to gush out

Soaked with shame

Of plenty weak moments

For

The seventy fifth time I repeat

I repeat it’s okay

I repeat it’s fine

I repeat it’ll get better

I repeat the sun will be kind

The moon will care

And the body will dare

Another chance at  love

Hoping for escape

From despair.

I Little titles of existence 

Done

I have exhausted my capacity of loving.  I have loved you with a million little pieces of my soul.  Giving you a million little pieces of myself.  I am done. 

Finding

Now.  Its about the million little pieces of me that you threw away on the way to moving on.  Where do I search for them?   Where do I find myself? Pick me up and bind myself. 

Extract

And if I do find a piece or two lying around the old haunts,  how do I extract myself from them? I don’t have the energy. I don’t have the will.  I wander aimlessly in search for myself, not wanting to be myself. 

Grow

Why don’t I grow a million little pieces again?  Form myself whole, again. 

How?  How do you ask a flower to Bloom after it has wilted?  It dies. And seeds. There are seeds.  I have seeds.  Where do I plant them? My body feels barren. 

Fertility

Where did all the potential for my future go?  Down the drain with a million little pieces. Barren mind full of sadness, only more sadness it begets. 

I am not fertile.  I am sad.  Sadness grows on me birthing a million little pieces of sadness. 

Calming

It takes a million little breaths and slight pauses to calm myself down. To breathe fully and hope to regain enough energy to build upon the barren land a fertile Base where I can flourish once again. 

Hope

I had.  Million little pieces full of me and my hope. Lost. 

Love

I do.  Million little pieces of hard work on Unconditional and undying. Lost.

A song for love

For all you lovers who have to go through distance


A hundred days since I saw you

A hundred nights since I kissed you

You break my heart and you make my heart

You’re the deranged being who stole my heart
Heart heart heart
Where is my heart?
A hundred days since I saw you

A hundred nights since I kissed you
My ribcage is empty and my eyes are weeping 

My life is simply a disaster in waiting.
Wait wait wait 
Where is all this time? 
A hundred days since I saw you

A hundred nights since I kissed you
I lost my virginity to your eyes

And when you went you took my sight

And that’s how we screwed our both lives
Life life life

Where is our life? 
A hundred days since I saw you

A hundred nights since I kissed you
Wake me up and take me away

Let’s just forget everything for a day

Behave like bunnies and smoke away
Wake wake wake

Where is this day? 
A hundred days since I saw you

A hundred nights since I kissed you