It’s worse at night. Laying in bed. Thought chasing thought.

Wait, it this another panic attack? Or do I just feel this was naturally? Am I just hormonal or stressed or sad, why do I even have to think about this?

There’s this feeling inside of me. Fingers tearing on a gummy ball that doesn’t stretch. Not finding the perfect song that fits your feelings. Knocking over glass bottles and paper towers on my desk because it’s too damn full.

But hey. Hey, this is all my fault right. And no one is coming to save me.

I’m in this lonely. Not alone because alone would mean that no one’s here. But they’re all here.

My red haired overachiever who fights her demons, my yearlong partner in everything who I’ve never had an argument with, my awkwardly confident almost lover who’s giving up on me, my never fading brain wired everything.

But this is my fault. I need some saving but I don’t know if I want some.

I’m so into controlling my breathing that I rarely realise how people want to give me their oxygen. Some people accidently reach for the wrong bottle. They give me poison instead. Some people hand me empty bottles with eyes full of expectancy.

It makes me scratch my skin. It makes me hold your hand and lay my head against your chest. It keeps me on my melodramatic playlists, listening to the same mistakes again and again.

Maybe you are not so much for sad me. Only happy me.

I’m a little much.


To my people that are homes

In sick and in health , in jealousy and pride I pledge to stand with you.  Fighting sleep and fighting demons . We’re as strong together as we are divided . Introverts , extroverts .you’re probably better than me but somehow were good together .

you get me . I wish to curse out of happiness because you get me.  And you make me feel a little less lost when we complain about how the world’s against us both .

Thanks . I want to thank life everyday that you’re here and that you’re gone sometimes. That we come back after letting ourselves get lost .

You are one of the voices in my head that keep me on my feet and dancing when it is a too good or heavy.

I want to kiss your hands. You would let me , cause we’re mostly the same and sometimes mostly not . But we’re okay . Together . Apart. And that’s what matters .

Thank you . For conditioning me to smile , for making me push harder , for making me jealous and proud . I hope we never become enemies.


Patience darling.

When they open up , don’t rush inside and grip what you can. Don’t haste in euphoria and fear of their hearts choice . Or you might forget to take the spare key from the last door .

When the key is slowly turning inside the lock don’t slam the door , they might be frightened . Don’t wonder why they test your patience.

When they paint their fears and draw their dreams , don’t ask yourself , is this about me ?

I know I’ve been wrong before . But when they open up their hearts to me I’d rather dust the door handle in gold and put flowers around the door frame , before I take a careful step in those beautiful brains .



Woman , you’re a force of nature.

I’ve got flames is my eyes and moondust  in my bones ,

but I won’t burn for the battles you fought

but I won’t break because of the words you spoke.


See my voice is a weapon as my kindness is my sword

and I would love to cut you loose from the pain than you hold

but my destiny whispers , even you have your limits

so be kind but remember the bastards name


As much as I am transparent and full of change

your words grew like roses around my wrists

and the thorns began to dig into my skin

forgive him


So even though I’m calm and careful

I am still a force of nature

Don’t you   mess with my elements


Death is not the same as coming home.

My best friend told me that sometimes, she hears darkness calling her name. That this life doesn’t make any sense for some time now. What I thought of immediately was a poem I had read some time ago. “

“ It’s hard, not wanting to die. Dying is not the same as going home“.

going home is falling into comfort and certainty

it’s sleep and music, the things I love most in this world

because they make me feel alive

because they make feel like I  can breathe again

so I’m losing myself as I slowly find myself again

Cravings & procrastination.

It’s one of those mornings that I wish I hadn’t figured out how the snooze button works. I wish I had started a bit earlier to study because now my days are filled with sitting at my desk , my head bowed , learning .

But most of all , when I lay in bed and I see the clouds running wild on the blue sky and I hear the wind shaking the windows , I wish I could leave this all behind . I wish it was June and I am swimming in the Mediterranean sea  , and the wind pulls sand over me every now and then , and the sun gets too hot after a while.