motivational quotes girl

Emily
waltzes through
fields of the lost marbles
spinning in her new flower dress

burning sacrificial pits next by
play trombones
and Emily kills
a kind stranger throwing
him in to play
a new note of vanity

she strikes a pose in setting sun
and quotes
the sacred knowledge of Petite Prince
feeling divine
while trombones echo the note of emptiness

at nights I dream of

a bird, sparkling blue
red, blood dripping beak
morphs

patterning into
heartbeats of  lovers,
tapping fingers of anxious,
fluttering eyelashes of mourning

a bird, pulsating purple
gold, god speaking beak
springs

melting into
infinite sky
melting
meltin
melti
melt
mel
me
me

it becomes me.

the narrative Øf a wØman

i have never been given
a voice
to speak out the
profane  the
insane
∴∴∴

covered my mouth
with wounded palms
i stumble, standing
up
legs don´t carry

waters ripple in a heart
as they throw stones 
in my mind

glitching
i hold up
eyes open
brushing the dust
off the thrones
where they sat on the right
in the hands the magdalenes
saint whores 
glitching
i hold up
eyes open

∴∴∴
i have never been given
a voice
to speak out the
sacred the
insane

prologue: inhumankind

wriggle through
slowly, dripping,
sinking down
i gasp and
the tears sprout
blooming in
rotten blossoms

all gods kneel,
gazing down
as the inhumane (the one they used to call a human)
steps me over

-your soles are covered in the blood of your own kind

 

 

i gaze up

-what a callous game we play

10:08 am

as people pass through
forming a wall of white noise

a thought crawls up
my chest
kissing the collar bone
peeling the skin off,
ripping the heart out

cells of debris
i am a form of everything
eternally broken
cells of perfect order 
i am a form of everything
eternally divine

all that’s in you
all that’s in me

as people keep passing through
disappearing into
the wall of white noise

shrine of a broken mind

bitter, tired 

a gong echoes
in the head
as you scoop insides
of yourself

pilling them in front
creatura of sorrow
painting canvas of skin
creatura of lies

blood,
liquid gold
seeping through
the eyes

you kneel
bitter, tired

a gong echoes
being your heart

a theft

the iris of an eye cracks,
shattering down in marbles
echoing
the forgotten
the forbidden
ringing
the punishment
of needles and stones
in the cavity of a chest

so holy, full of lies
so merciful, full of hate
you kiss the palm of a hand
and collect the iris
of my eye
creating a half-souled brute

in the player

becoming the game 

i melt from
everything into nothing
grasping your fingertips
as a gust of wind,
a roaring echo of the rain
reverbing into
the slow heartbeat,
a moment
becoming you.

a game one never could win 
and never could lose