Compilation.

Here is a compilation of some writings I just wrote in the car on my way to Shreveport, Louisiana on a visit.


I’m thirsty for your lips, your interpretations. This time of falling down so quickly is not one of my favorite weakness’. Time is shortening. Life is belonging. It seems to be the last of the first round. My beauty. My own sickness. You cause the world to crumble at your feet, but I will not. I will fail to give you refuge. I will cause harm to your meaningful conversations. And even though you thought to know me so well, you do not. You see my image, you my sweet, my shadow. Nothing more. Nothing less.


Whenever I reach for you, your hands quickly move away. Your space is my only alibi. Eyes, your own.
They drive my fantasies wild, and never decease. Ringing in my ears, caught in a motion I cannot even control. Rid me, disease. Leave me to my own destruction. The faster you go, the more I want. The harder you get, the more I want. Speak now or forever hold your fucking peace.

My valley, chased by shadows and ripping my core from inside me. Spirit, spirit on the wall, who knew my willing little frame would become more hollow. Who knew my own captivation would lead to my release?
Sing, sing, sing to me. As I crumble in your dying arms, sing to me. Let me hear the last sentences from your lovely lips. Let me kiss the wounds away, as many as I can. Image, image in my mirror. Fetch me another one, give me another chance to become the opposite of all your dreams.


I have waited hours, centuries, generations just to hear you say your name. And though it is common to my ears, I want to inhale it like my cigarettes. Like my rude words. I want to cut you in tiny pieces so I will have you forever. So you cannot run from my arms ever again. Never fear me, I just want your small pieces.
Never judge me, I just want your bloody tears.
You and your eyes need to find me.