You and I have danced for decades,
Stabbing me on the warpath as I giggled along,
You taught me to hate myself the most,
Way down to the vivisection of my soul;

Am I just shifting blame? Didn't I hold the knife too?
You gave it to me, I made it serrated and poisoned,
Hence why I'm venomous, uneven and stubborn,
Am I chaotic because I am or am I just unhealed?

I held your hand as you plunged it into me slow,
I thought you loved me, why else would you do it?
To be so obsessed and devoted to my destruction?
Isn't destruction just the beginning of creation?

It worries me that you don't leave, you keep the blade in,
Are you worried I'll bleed out or do you enjoy the misery?
Have I learnt to love you choiceless and mistaken?
Like the compass points north, the tall child feels comfort;

'A child weaned on poison considers harm a comfort'
Was I after all designed to be harmed or do I have a choice?
I'm not alone anymore though, I have my moon now,
She'll guide me home across the dark and quiet :)

could it be?

the chameleon!?

changing
suits
and
colored skin
shifting
time
and time
again
to try
and
blend
in
and
hide
from the
things
that
frighten
her
within

she
camouflages
well
while
trying
not
to
tell

trying
to
conceal
the
things
inside
that
she
does
outside
without
ever
realizing
what
life
even
is
besides
this
hell
and
sad
little
lie
that
has
hidden
her
so
well

i want to lick your brain

give me
just
the tiniest
taste

i won’t
let a
single
drop
of
your
brilliance
go to
waste

after all,
you’re
one
in
a
million
or
a
billion
or
whatever that
made up
number
is
that
children
use
to
express
that what
they’re feeling
is
the absolute
best

i’ll meet you on
the Hlíðarfjall
slopes
crossing
my fingers,
toes
and eyes
while hoping
for the most

one day,
maybe,
hopefully,
with wishful
thinking
and
pushing
and
planning
and maybe
a bit
(or more)
of sneaking
we
will be
beyond
these silly
dreams
and actually
be touching
side
by
side
with nothing
left
to
hide
because
we are
actually okay
with
ourselves
and
with
each other

this is just
a precursor
to what you will experience
if you’re around me
on a regular basis
i have days
where i am
just up
up
and
away

but then
i have days
where i am down,
down,
down

and then
i have days
where i’m up,
down,
up,
down,
right,
left,
sideways,
circles,
vibrations,
lost sight,
who am i,
where am i,
what am i even doing here,
what’s the point,
is life even real,
is this a simulation,
do i actually breathe,
am i just unknowingly on the Truman Show,
has anything ever existed,
do i exist right now,
what time is it,
why does my face itch,
what’s wrong with me,
what or who even are you,
where’d you come from,
where have you been all my life?

anyway,
i’m medicated.

who knows
if i’m being treated
for the right ****?
i’m still
nuttier than
a nutty buddy,
and i’ve been told by close friends
that i’m their
“nutty buddy”
but they really
don’t know
how accurate
that is

i’m just working on music,
while smoking
a lot
of ****,
drinking…
my usual amount of *****,
and thinking
about the past,
the present,
and the future
while trying
to make sure
i push
the less important things
out of the way
while i sort through my ****

and, by the way….

ég elska þig ❤️

i love you
in icelandic

i’ve been
slowly
and oh so
carefully
peeling away
layers of myself
like a lizard
shedding its skin
whenever it grows
a little bit

i keep
removing
the old stuff
the icky stuff
the stuff that
keeps me
awake
at night

i’m trying so hard
to find my way
to the light
where maybe
the sun
can help cauterize
my scars
maybe i
can have a chance
to be new
again

until i can rebuild
and renew
i am so grateful
that i can be myself
with you
that i can let
little bits of
the ugly
slip into
our conversation
and you won’t turn me away
you don’t run
when i
show how scary
i can be

thank you
for helping me
take the time
to learn who
i am
and
who i
want to
one day
be

brains are weird,
little mysteries
all filled with
countless, unique
stories,
thoughts,
and memories

jiggly,
squiggly blobs
filled
with everything
we’ll ever
and
never
be able to know

like a jellyfish
filled with random
philosophies,
daydreams,
scary things,
memories,
ideas and plans
and other stuff
that is frightening

gelatinous lil
chubby
blubs
of thought
driving every function,
every aspect of our lives
telling us
when to blink
what to want
how to breathe

i just wish
this stupid
thing in my skull
would shut up
sometimes
and

just

not

think

when i
look back
at all the roles
i’ve played
throughout my life,
at all the characters
i’ve had to create,
all the versions
and variations
of myself
i have
pretended to be…
it’s crazy to think
how i really don’t
know me

i think i never
really wanted to
because i am too afraid
of being unloved
and unwanted

i use all these masks
to hide the pain
and cover up the tears
that have been pulling my strings
for most of my years
stopping me from
taking risks
because of
all my fears

i’m torn in two
trying to get to you
and wondering
if you’re
just going
to grow bored
of me, too
once the music stops
and the bells
fall off my shoes
will you like me when i’m me?
or do you want me to be you?

these are the questions
that rotate around
my brain
walking around
my mind
with thousands of tiny
hands and feet
tickling and causing vibrations
sending me down
into countless spirals
that never end well

i have been sick
for as long
as i can remember
and i don’t
know
that i’ll ever
be fully
in my right mind
there are
always little monsters
in my head
chasing me around
and there’s nowhere
i can hide
i am always exhausted
no matter how much
i rest
and i guess
being crazy
is just what
i do best

i’ve been slipping
and sliding
down a dangerous
path
into a soupy,
sloppy pit
of dismissive
behaviors
and letting
part of myself
disappear

it’s so hard to explain
how this is so wrong
and so right
at the same time

it goes against
all i’ve ever thought
i needed
but these dreams
won’t leave
my mind
i’m trapped between
my heart
and
my
time

what happens
between
one eye
and the other
in my lil’
squishy
brain
is impossible
to explain

it all just
comes down
to one
simple
little
itty
bitty
thing

this stupid
little
flutter
in my heart
with
your name
etched into it

i can’t sleep
but
i don’t care

sometimes
poetry
is more
important

we’re just
two pieces
of ****
waiting for
our turn
to get flushed
down the toilet

two unhinged
weirdos
communicating
through poetry
and thoughts
that aren’t quite
complete

and maybe there
are still pieces
missing
and this picture
can’t be
fully seen
for a while

but ******
*******
or not,
****!
you make
me smile

and when i look
up at the moon
and he’s smiling
too
and it’s happening
while i’m
thinking of you

the fork in the road
makes me hungry
and i’m trying to figure
out what
i need
to satisfy this rumble
in my tummy
i can’t have
my cake
and eat it too
but i
don’t care much
for cake anyway
i’m more of a pie
kinda gal