becoming☆☆☆

Sometimes

I feel a new wave of me

And owerwhelming breath in of

"This is becoming"

Of a gap from where i left

That cliff long ago

Standing in the middle of the green hills

This is me

Stars in the grass

I am made of glass

Seethrough

Translusent like a fish

I show my whole now

Like a kid I do what i feel

I'm chipping at the walls

Scrape off layers of shame

Scrubbing away at the seashore

My heart soft and clean now

Like i was born yesterday

my heart like meteorite ☆☆☆☆

I've lost many things in my life 

Only to find

Thats when i've loved them the most

Devoid of life and light

I starts clinging to(/streching over the windowsill) the window like a plant

I remember the beads, and the coloured markers, the scent of peeling a clementine

When i have lost my colour, 

into it i go: deeper, inching my way around, into the stars twinkeling blue, red and green (like christmas lights)

Sometimes i think my heart is like a christmas light

Flickering

Shifting

Deep

Sometimes its utterly quiet

Like a peral

Like something hiding 

At other times like a meteorite

Rich in its bruning, (alive)

Then the salty and harsh

crash in the ocean

Kind of like an early morning 

Stinging in my eyes

But also beautiful and deep

and at the end of all, 

worth it.

The leaves like overgrown lilacs ☆☆☆☆☆

The leaves 

are very pretty

But I must also say

It feels like nature contained

Into some spherichal shape

Cut down with fences and stone cliffs 

And my feet they feel it

Not walking on earth

On soil

But the hundereds of million feet here would probably scrape it all

coat the whole city in sticky footsoles and fingertips

So at least i can write this

And be here with you

To learn to love something else than i am used to

To see the tree shadows like overgrown lilacs

Black against the sunlit stones

Try to stay in the stillness 

in the middle of a chaos

What a lesson

What a learning

To appriciate the sound 

Even of an artificial waterfall

Small drops trickeling from squared stones

I knew it would be hard ☆☆☆☆

I went to the store

At 12 the world had gone asleep

I watched sugar coated trees

Glistening in the moonlight

I put a fruit caramel in my mouth

And felt the soft air hug me

I have been so terribly sad lately 

Like a sinking pit, fruit seed of sadness 

in my stomach 

It lives a quiet life

And never goes to rest

Always the weight suprises me

I think, maybe i had forgot how it feels

And all around me the people seem to do it all

Put in the work and the numbers (fit and) drift seamless, like autumn leaves in fall

Like a puzzle, like a colourbook

And me too I have dreams 

but i do not know where they are headed

So i tried to follow that feeling in the core

The spine of my heart

I knew it would be hard

So now i watch the sun through the apartment

The sun on the ocean

To go swimming again when the sickness leaves

And it must leave

like all else 

I have been thinking lately like the few people i have, are so incredibly prescious to me

That they are my life, what truly matters

My lover and my bestfriend and my sisters

To visit, and call them, and hug them all

I will hold on tight, this is my reminder of it all

I have been thinking of my aunt, how i understand it

But she had no sister, no bestfriend, no lover like i do

I will get through 

And the music that holds my hands also gnaws at them 

But this poem is the crystal of my soul

It spins and it gives and it cleans 

Of what a luck, this body can be a home

My poem its interior

And all my dreams like sun shining through the windows

This beading, this portrait of home/the world ☆

I cannot leave, this beading

This portrait of the world

I will keep it

Like crystals and pretty rocks

In my heartpocket

Like a breath

Like a hug

Like blood in lungs

Like a light in the evening

Like the reflection of water

Like crisp mountain air

Like a glow behind all else

Dark sweet soil

I must have known

How did I not know 

Swimming in muddy water

Dark sweet soil

Makes you sick

I saw myself standing on the shoreline

And asked myself why I felt pale, 

and my left lung punctured

Like a wind that passes but never sets

Like an ache destined nowhere, 

at no-one

I had felt it before

Back then I found a new hard work

A new time eater

Healthy soil

I had learned to sprout seeds, grow friuts, life from mud

But somehow i forgot

Or neglected it all

And this is the evil eye, in (the middle of) my life

Now

I will try and/to learn

To close the lid again

To learn not to always search for more

And More and

More

Salty darkened clay 

Returns to the shore

Bleak and moulnarished

Afraid

Oiled in sunscreen

Weak and bleak

Under the unforgiving sun

The death of stars above me

Yet malnourished

In green and white 

I had forgot

Or i never knew at all

That this was the gift of light

Words bleeding into paper

bleeding into me

Scentences like ribbons

Each delicate, and each a sensation

This overwhelming miss

Slip of the wrist

Could have not happened all along

But then I would never know 

that this is the source

This is the great tap root

The beacon

The god and the altar

Like glistening pearls on a shore

(The flame in my soul?)

The world is my rosary

I count all that I love, bind it up in colourful cloths and fabrics

With memories made into syrup

Sticky like honey to the/on paper

Golden/gold*?

have to go -miss the world forever ☆☆☆

This morning

Will the light shine through

Into my heart like a silver knife?

I hope to wake again tomorrow

Or tonight

Before the sun sets

will i again, take for granted that I am here

To think youth cannot be taken away

Not like a birthday cake

That surely gets eaten away

Candles melting into frosting

Carve me away

Or carve me back forever again

I think the day I go

I will miss the world forever

I will miss the soaps, and the icecreams and the hugs

And the flowers blooming

And the sun and trees and birds and hands and all the humans

Ribbon, whirpools of light ☆☆☆☆ +fiks*

The fjord looks like a ribbon

I'm standing knee deep in the blood

Smells like sugary water,

and iron

Hungry, 

i look up at whirpools of light

So bright, like a never-ending escape

Like some recreation

of hope,

flowers/ocean mist

new beginning

This sharp pain

This loneliness

Like the rotting of a heart

Like the rotting of me

Laying in a ditch by the sea

I used to think

In my selfishness

If some explosion hit

If dead stars would omit their light

A quasar of death*

If now must be the end of it

Then i would be okay to go with it

To not sit with this

Gone in splints

Like i used to think about blenders and cliffs

earths children in the vallies ☆**

The earth holds me

As I travel by train through the vallies

She warms my shoulders and my chest and my chin

And when I sleep through the vallies i am her child

That is what I feel from within

A child being brought home again

And she tells me we are all children

For she is ancient, she is old, she is wise and she is a god

That we forgot to take care of,

For when she is sick we are sick

But all children should have a guardian

So she never holds anger or remorse, 

She gives you beautiful pebbles in hand and ladybugs and sun 

As I look at the moss and patches of snow, and small wooden houses with a glimt in my eye

She tells me we are all children

A flickering light all the same

From the day we are born and to the day we go

Fragile like the heartbeat of a bird

Holding hands and sleeping softly under the moon

We are children all the same, 

in our soul there is still that curious fragment of who we have been 

And now grown

Still that search

For home

 

bones and lake gems ☆*

There is this deep hurt

Somewhere in the root of my bones

Its pure, clean

Like bruning blood in lungs after a run

Or cold water from the lake

The world like a gem

A crystal

Such beauty

Such sharpness

I have four cuts on my hands

And a smile on my face

This bucket of stars

Spilled across a life

The night/i see it/you in the night/i see it in the light

You see it in my eyes

☆☆☆☆Milkwhite crystals: the wound on my back ☆☆☆☆

Feels like glass shards

Milk-white crystals sharp

Stabbing into the soft meat of my heart

Into its unnassuming pulp of tissue

Its crystalisations of defensless blood

Blood that you slowly sucked and drawed

Trough no plaster patches and no pat on the shoulder after

The fall of the bike, or the banging on the door

I feel and will feel forever the wounds carved into the heart of a child

A pulsing wound that will continue to grow, get infected

every day, all the time, until the day i die

Even with you gone, there will be the (sharp) milkwhite crystal-shards that I could silently try to pick out

but you know how these things are

Meat is thick (and splinters grow thin(ly in))

And I will carry this wound on my back, like a wet cloth, a string of stones, a symbol of time

Like you have carried a wound on your ribs, and your mouth from your mothers mother and her mothers mother 

On and on and on

Like a sword through time

Like a needle through the bodies waiting in line, (like a queue)

And I will carry it too, for you have given it to me

Wherther you knew it or not, wherther you knew you were hurting or not

And it makes me neauseus how I might see another that I love, grow into such a life

I hope with all the fires in my heart, 

bowing to the sparkling orange sun/sparkling orange like the sun

You will not have to feel it all

On my knees to the stars

I know at least with me, where I can move and see (move my head and my hands up my ribs and feel where my heart is there is that sharp point under the skin like a silver knife) and where there is a point moving from my own chest into time

I will cover it with cotton and pillow and clay

And (i tell the moon) if I ever had a daughter

I would make sure her back was washed and whole and soft

mother ☆☆☆☆

That night bathed in red light

Crystals in my ears

There was some wierd creepy man looking us out

Walking towards us

Scaring 

And the older woman behind me, held me like a mother

And at that moment i felt myself ready to cry

How could someone hurt a little child

And then my new mother, she dances with my father

And she smiles so truly, so deeply

Tears welling in my eyes

lung -moving ☆☆☆

The lung of the bus

Like two bodies hugging together

Coming to a close

And the smell of dust

the smell that there have been people 

and places to collect it (what a comfort)

And small sunlight slips through spring leaves

And colourful laces holding togheter shoes, 

and the hopes of a single world

Or many maybe

Of where you will go and the people on that road

Each one a pearl and petal of their own

I never knew the many interesting things that could happen in such a passing pocket of time

Colourful glass in the windows i pass

And in the morning, the sky will be pink

And I will wake to it

Again

To another day 

in a room that smells like sleep i will lift my heavy feet

/(Trying to lift my arms and heavy feet)

I want to live it

To feel the pink and see the moving breaths of others

My life moving, like the shapes of the sun 

Its okay to love something new

To losen the tread that has been so tight

Red, warm and bright

But that pulled at the head, arms and thighs

It is okay to be something else

To love the city that before poisoned you

Let slip that floating thing, resistance somewhere in your heart root

To float, to just feel and love no matter what thought you were

and what you ought to love (and not)

beach ☆

I do not know why i am doing

No good

I guess this is

The blooming of some, not me

I guess this is not the place for me, 

feeling like a washed up tree, and that is okay okay

Though it numbs at the corners of my skin

I do not get why you get such a good feeling from gaps of flesh and no feeling

I do not know how you sit with others and dont feel alone when you and them have never truly opened your throats

When you and them have never shared open infected cuts, or the swirls of lights, circling inside of your palms

I feel like a creature washed up on the beach

With my gills gasping with the hurt of no home

I did not know i was so unusual

These strands of glass ☆

There is a shimmering ache and rage and lust in the middle of my bones

For chaos and bloodshed and skin 

And warmth in belly

Blinking spaces ☆☆☆

But maybe 

Im these crammed blinking spaces

With christmas lights that never go into the basement

With windows and doors that are always open

And a taste of brew sweet from yeast and grain

I feel like i could fly, like instead of closing I could open

I feel myself glowing like that shimmering burn somewhere in my heart

Of wanting, needing, yearning

And for once feeling like i'm getting it

I am an animal, like all else

We are animals too scared to admit we are we are covered in scar tissue (afraid, too scared to cry for help)/afraid to ask for help

And sometimes when this heart feels dark and sticky, when it feels mould spreading in arteries, it has asked, it has begged, it has cried for stop, for love and hold 

for light and dark: for easy

for a fast surge of fire or a granade, abyss like a bliss: to end, to stop, to heal

So then I tell all the little beautifully coloured explosions inside of me, i tell all the metal and iron and salt and flowers 

I tell them all, (my children)

That these things are never ever easy

But I will try

I will learn to live softly

salt filled regret

Which of these tearings

These (salt filled) scars

Were self inflicted

And which were like a knife

Washed in from the tide

Like glass reflecting in ocean waves

Where the cloth dries up innocent blood

But does it even matter

Where all the blood comes from?

Did i do myself a favor 

The day I decided to feel every fiber

Every sting and burn of my body and mind

To feel it all

To fall

Is that the right thing to do?

I am so so tired

Of always asking

*

When should i listen?

When can i trust what I am feeling?

This bruning of being here

And yet i have stayed

Like a bride in the snow

With purple fingers and a white nose

Thinking i was not made for love

But maybe I would have ached all along, no matter where I would have belonged

But i still know, something here is missing

When every breath of fresh air feels like a new lung

An organ awaited

And being once again in that warm light i think will hug and kiss my skin

I instead feel the sting deep whitin

Of not enough

Or not what I needed

Is it worth it?

Worth it all?

I do not know

how little you care ☆☆☆

I feel

How little you see 

Me

Or care

But I am learning

To not care 

I have such love for all people

Such memories and sensations

My best friend is apple juice, dark chocolate and the smell of the ocean 

And i thought this new person was hairdye, and babies and buttons

But i think not, maybe not

When she does not care for me like i care for people

No listening, no aftertough, no sincere care or emotion

But sometimes i see gaps, small needlepoints, tiny swords of hope

Like with my parents, but i have learnt

People remain the same unless there had been some big revelation, massive change

And these people must have supressed many times the feelings and open-critique people have showed them 

They are already somewhere of their own

And nothing like the face of a flower, or a glimt of hope can change that

Most people have a small something 

That you could cherish and love

But the question is if all else dims you, or starves you to the bone

I will not let you eat me up

I will become meat, and stardust and the thruth of my lungs

This evening ☆☆☆

This evening

Like i had something in my pocket

Some strange orange light

Some beads or ornaments of paper

I think it is that sweetness of feeling the never-ending and never-changiness of humanity

How a heart will always be a heart upon any point of history

But mostly how my heart felt that night

Pink and bright

Having the blanket of a friend over my back

And a cup of water in my hands

How happy i am

For the simplest of things

Of a roof, of a lamp, of bread and water in my hand

I am lucky to be, where i am

And also in such care, that I longed for when I was little and scared

These days i can smell the wash of sweet dryed laundry

And something i would call: a life of my own, (though not always easy or under control?)

But still my own, my own

And a friend to hug and tell

To say you care

Having been gifted such a sweet necklace of words

To keep

To carry 

To cherish in the darkest of nights

Watching the beads and silver string blinking in moonlihght 

Gaps of white