Soap and salt

On the surface the waves are soft
You keep me close to the shore
I’m floating with my back one with the waters
At times a salty mouth

Facing the sky, always and still
No one can see as I’m drifting seemingly easily
How underneath the plastic pellets
And the grey-white foam
Strings are tied around my ankles
And how
My arms are but a continuation of a net
Keeping myself together and close to the sand
Each time I try to swim further out
You’d let the winds carry me back in
A cherry-stuffed belly seeking safety
Where it was sure to

Be both found and squeezed into a dark array
With the same mouth
The surface is safe you say
And so is the bay
The same ropes
The same repressive spit
The same condensed words carving into
Where no one can see the words crawling

between bones and skin
Wounded from repetitive cracking without bad intention

The dirty bugs sit

You keep me both alive and drown all possibilities

For me to learn to –



All that ever were to want

I intend to live this life that’s filled with love and creativity and new ways of engaging with the old, full of ideas and connection and critical awareness and the imagination of radical difference and visions and zest and breaks for reflection and gathering myself when needed with clear boundaries established on my part and an open rejection of the status quo, with freedom granted to myself and a range of options for a possible life, of which none stands above another, a ridding myself of internalized mechanisms taught by school, parents and those we wanted to please back then. A life that’s soft and simple in terms of material goods and rich in ideas and connection, some slowness and the attitude of an athlete, knowing when to run and when to rest. A more relativist approach to authorities and an acknowledgement that many loud voices have merely bullshitted themselves through life and thus there’s absolutely no reason for one to feel small.


The only constant in life

Back then
I’d read Sense and Sensibility
And send you eagerly typed
My favourite quotes at nightfall
In bed
With you in my hands
Never literally
I remember how your eyes and contours
Followed me
Through the day
Would show up behind fences
Always a barrier between
But voices can beam holes
Can overcome distances so far
That leaves start to dance
And feet move faster

Days became wrapped into a sweet scent
Of light
Something bright always around
Laying thin layers of exaltation on the mundane
I tasted you on my way home at night from the grocery store in chocolate cookie slices
And in cheese toasties down the road
I forgot so easily
That seasons change
Along the way

And so do we

Our definition of success

Rejections and unanswered applications
Were presents for someone so obsessed with
Counterbalancing their lack of worth
With an overflow of work
That would drown
All sense of imposterism

Until the weight of work and the world
Would let them slumber and collapse
And break into a sphere of running in a wheel
That lets one forget
How one got there and how one can leave again

Running is followed by hiding from running and hiding while running or because of and running without thinking about stopping

Till a sense of worth is reached
On a Friday night when you fall on your back at midnight
Your eyes burning
Your head heavy
Your thoughts empty
Your work done, and knowing this is no longer satisfying
You’re empty and regard this as

Is this success

The misery (pt. 1 and 2)

We build cages around ourselves so confidently
Until we see that we
Have unlearned to breathe freely
That we never planned a window nor a door
In the cell starting to feel like something
Close to self-pre-fabricated hell
How dense feelings do become
How you vanish and become one
With the concrete’s cold in winter and its heat right after
As you’ve never learned to counterbalance
Your self-imposed burdens
Poor little creature
Now I see you
Freezing in the corner
Not daring to let a tear drop
So controlled have you learned
To suffer


I’m an empty nest
Once filled with all the responsibilities
That let it break
And me tremble
Hanging from a branch
Most between where altruism started
And where selfishness seems to be standardised
Catapulting you into your own ignorant happiness
Centring around the destruction of other life
That wasn’t lucky enough to enjoy the same
Bath in useless luxury
Where ignorance prevails
Altruism has failed
And I don’t know what to believe in
Any longer

White and clean or: Everyday explosions

Every hateful word

carves itself onto my skin

into my organs

 landing where my stomach feels intoxicated

 filled with dynamite

like fireworks clashing against my belly’s inside


All the abundance

All the money invested in white walls

All the glittering and polished masks

The clean facades

The light-hearted greetings

Are useless




what’s more profound

is shabby


Golden paint

doesn’t make the broken hut you’re residing in

any better

my friends



bit me bitterly

as freckles were spreading

over my pale winter skin


And Scotland painted itself

on my mind

while I was negating

the love I would find

if I returned

to the used places


I’m just so afraid

the honey won’t last


We’ve had a full pot

Now I need to move on