be-drugged

drug me.
put ur finger in my drink and
drug me.
tear the bones off my skin and
drug me.
jab your words through my head and
drug me.
dig me up from my grave and
drug me.
pierce your lips into my neck and
drug me.
tattoo your name across my back and
drug me.
drug me.
drug me.
drug me.
then whisper in my ear that you love me.

more and more, i feel less and less.

please

stitches

In the light, you can see my stitches.
Come closer and
you might find some loose ends.
Pick and unpick on them,
at your pace.

From my temple down the sides of my face.
My neck to my chest
around my breast,
keep going along the contours of my waist.
Bump against my hip bone
more pronounced than before,
spiral down the concentricity of my thighs,
look, they tried to make it hurt even more.

Don’t hold back, no bleeding occurs here;
Not anymore.
Keep picking and unpicking.

Flip me open, my heart still thumps,
those lungs, though stained with nicotine
still pumps. Pumps.
Eye my breakfast through my gut,
Alright.
Enough.
Now sew me up.

measure

Emotional expectations: 3 metres, 500 kilograms, 5 hours…
Will it then be easier to control them?
When are they too short? Too heavy? Too long?
When should i turn around and walk away?

5 hours.Beneath 3 metres.On 500 kilograms.
I will wait.

the things that keep me alive at work

currently reading: