☆◇Someday◇☆

Our lamp at home, is like a fireplace

And this body like an oven

Like a moth, i am walking to the stars

In wide blue grass

The nearby parking-lot like a forest

I don't know who or where I am

But I know

I could have been, farther from home

From hope and joy

Me and the four white butterflies 

On purple-green flowers, in the night

Not yet home

But not far away

We will get there 

Someday

I sometimes look

Back to a river bank and a village

with two sisters and coloured houses

And think and wonder 

And look at these hands

And ask, how did I end up like this?

Cut up to bits

But truth is

I have always felt

Steep hills and cliffs

And blooming red streams

towering inside of me

Don't know who or what

But there is a now

And there will be a future

We will cling to it, sing to it, celebrate to it

We are not so far away

We will name it 

Someday

skape ☆☆☆

Talentskrapende

Ripende langs vinylgulvet

Jeg er skruer som blør inn i treverk

Og en kropp som blør inn i verden

Det knekker 

ved de opprustede leddene 

de jordlagte sårene

Hvordan kan jeg i det hele tatt skape og skrive og virke som jeg kan noe

Når jeg ikke kan noe

Vil finne et punkt som etser og pulserer inn i det menneskelige

Bre meg inn i det sykelige

Som tykk folie, skitten bandasje

Men hvordan kunne jeg noen gang trodd

At jeg hadde klart noe

Så vondt, så ærlig

Som å skape

girl in black, dissolving ☆

Here you see me

Girl in black

Diminishing myself

Turning my veins into side tracks

I have given so much

I have no more to give

Grown up in a story-book

Of rights and wrongs turned and twisted 

to the gaze of one side of the creature

So I chemically dissolved my fragile bones

and sacrificed my heart to the acids

To become of service

To be good

Silenced

Unoticable

I want to dissolve, melt and burn 

and turn over into something that floats on the lake

To simply not be in a world where my humanity is not seen

I want to burn down this house with all its pillows and carpets and clothes, 

and these twisted city blocks with all their harsh stone and millions of windows

I can take no more

Look what you did to me

Look, look, look

Into my bloodshut eyes, stapled hands and feet

Look at these coffee burn marks, these vegetable cuts, these gulps of blood, this scratched stovepot, this throat

Too many things have been done to me

So to any soul who listens

Your salty tears are heard

Your dreams matter

Your voice matters 

Your passions and your wishes and your hopes

You dont have to dissapear 

Into that big black hole

You are important

You are worthy

You have a right

To tell people when they hurt you

When they are wrong

When the world is unjust

You dont have to suffer in silence

Alone

You don't

Have to sacrafice and give all the blood in your body and skin of your back

To be seen

And to be loved

factory morning ☆ this wound in nature

That morning

When the kids drove up the mountain 

The factory walls were thick and coated 

with morning fog

The cars racing

Some shiny dear thing

Lay in the middle of the road

These streching pavements, this split

This wound in nature

Is where

They found him

That furred soft little body

Still warm

But not breathing

The kids walked to the house on the hill

With the old woman and old man

They told them of the gushing

The cut down trees

Cut down hope 

And the kids told them what happend

And the old ones cried, and went ahead

Walked up the stones to that pile of blood

Bowed down on their knees

And wrapped another loved one 

In his favorite cloth

happy birthday

You twist and turn

Like twigs

You burn like arsenic and chemicals into my skin

And bleed into the forest 

Eat up the trees and leaves and lives in the heat

Until the whole world is like one big candle

You grin, as you blow it out

And sing your sick self

A happy birthday

what to do?

What to do with this all

Hands and a mind and 

Cultures and maplines 

Created 

There is no truth

Only relativities

I am smelling the dust

From that deep blue corner

That pulls and tugs as hard as can only 

a lonely human

☆◇the hours painted ◇☆ -fikss

With so many hours

Unfilled

Unfelt

I dont know

If there is a place to pour the days

Is all there is

Sleeping and working and sitting with the hurt and weighted

Until the days and years mesh and mould into the same shadeless colour

Well well

I dont know

These days used to fill themselves 

Amongst thick leaves and river streams

And faces and places and stiched seems

But the threads are beginning to rip and stretch

Pulled out from their destined place

But anyway

A life can change

And I still somewhat know who I am

*I wont let the metal frame

Staple my spine and limbs 

Like a motionless portrait*

/And anyway I will not be stapled

Or cut into place

I am the road and i walk the way

Well, I dont know where to start

How to burn like i wish 

So many people do better than i could ever

Speak, think, make like i could never

*But as you know, one should never pour out of somebody elses hand*

*But I am learning and trying and wishing and wanting to want to be me*

And anyway i want to learn to be 

the one who speaks and thinks and makes

learn to feel the tears 

and the sun like a sword through my chest

Anyway, I just need a place

To melt into the grass

Where I can smudge this creature/heart

And bleed this heart/it out

Anyway, I am just doing the best I can

And I think these words could help

A fountain to wash my face