Sinner

Her luscious lips, they haunt my thoughts,
the thoughts that make my thighs quiver
and my lips quiver

My heart quiver

Sinner

These sinful thoughts that cause my stomach turn and
I cry

I cry out for any arms that might be open

“But what would they say?” she says
“No one can ever know,” she says

“Disappointment,” she says

and then she cries

Against the pillows, she cries and she shouts
and she says, “you” …

“I love you, too.”

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Against a pink sky

Part of me is always yours
Theirs

You know it,
they must be in your head,
all the words we never said

The tears that made my cheeks wet
in the afternoon

The tears that made us bloom

The moon
Against a pink sky

You made me wonder why
During the darkest night

Sigh, so very high

Please
Please, don’t cry

 

5 August, 2016

around 10pm

The grass is wet from the light rain still showering down. I’m wearing my sandals and I shuffle on the grass, my toes are touching the raindrops covering the ground. The sky is all lavender and light pink. It is burning from the middle, looking like a magical portal to another universe. I breathe in the air, I look at the sea. The air is salty and the wind is chilly. You can feel autumn – it is right around the corner. I don’t want to let summer go.

Reminiscing, dancing, loving; road trips with coffee stops and raindrops, hugs and kisses and beating hearts. Punk rock and neck ache, after parties that end when the sun has already been up for hours. Hangover foods and friends who are there for you, always. Big emotions. Cuddles and muddy puddles, swimming in the sea with your best dog friend. Sunsets and laughter but also lonely nights on the countryside, when you’ve really just needed to hide. Stars. Reflections on the water. Tears, both of joy and sadness. Butterflies. Sighs.

Summer – every year it so sneakily enters our lives and then leaves, almost as quickly as it has arrived. It always leaves me breathless.

Restless dreamer

22 July, 2016
03:01

I feel restless. I used to love going to sleep. Well, to bed. I loved being in bed, late at night, having some peace and quiet while reading a book or watching a TV show on mute. I loved those moments of solitude. Now, I feel like I have lost it. Maybe it’s the fact that I don’t have my own space while visiting home or maybe it’s the nights full of light, but I just feel so lost.

I feel like I’m losing time, like I need to be somewhere and do something. I want to be out there, chasing a sunset. I want to stay up all night long. I want passion, I want music and I want love. I want to breathe deep while staring at the sea and I want to lie on a field. I want to squat in one of those old abandoned shacks in the Finnish country side. I want to dance on the beach with wonderful people and kiss everyone in sight.

We are getting more and more light outside while I’m writing this, it is morning now… I want to wake up on the back of a van, open the door and see this exact sky.

I just arrived home after driving around for no reason, after spending time with a friend and listening to old mix CD’s, having late night (or early morning) fast food and on top of all that, lots of laughter. I also dipped my toes in sand. The sun went down about 3 hours ago and it is about to come up again in less than an hour. The moon is out; almost full and so very bright – it looks absolutely beautiful against the light blue backdrop of the early morning sky. I guess it’s time for sleep now.

Someone, please, go on an adventure with me?

Holding my heart

I like to wander but sometimes when I wander around alone I feel like I’m drowning. But how can you drown in the middle of the day while you’re walking on the street when there’s only pavement under your feet and the only smell of chlorine you can smell comes from the spa you pass? Sometimes I feel like I’m suffocating when I hang up the phone and sometimes really late at night I feel hopeless and there are tears on my cheeks and my throat hurts. I get this thing when sometimes when I feel anxious or terrified or even flattered my hands ache all the way to my bones and I just need to clench them together really hard and if someone touches them when I feel that way it makes me shiver and hurt even more and it makes me cry. After a while of holding them, the pain subsides, though. If I say, “my hands are hurting” it means I’m either upset or blushing. Sometimes when it’s sunny outside and I need to squint my eyes it makes me so angry that I want to throw things. Also sometimes when my heart breaks I feel like there is nothing in this whole wide world that could save me and I want to jump out of the window but then I remember how silly that would be and how when I think my heart breaks, it doesn’t, not really. Organs can’t break, not in that sense, anyway. I know that it can hurt really badly, though – my heart. When my heart hurts it really hurts and it feels like it’s clenching itself like I clench my hands when they hurt. The only difference is that my heart isn’t going to get any better if you hold it… If you hold it, it sighs and it’s relieved for a moment and you cuddle but during the cuddle or right after it starts hurting again and you might try letting it go for a while and holding it again but it’s just a vicious cycle. You shouldn’t hold a heart if you’ve made it hurt.

9 July, 2016
9:29 pm

An evening walk turned into an evening sit-down by the river. The bench is cold but he is warm. It’s dark – well if you don’t count the lights of the bridge that are also reflected on the water. It’s drizzling and bizarrely, we can hear Sweet Home Alabama playing from somewhere on the other side of the river. I can feel the wind on my bare ankles and as absolutely cliché and silly that sounds, it makes me feel alive. The wind on my skin, the rain and the haunting music that has traveled on the water into our awareness all heighten my senses.

I’m already leaning my head against his shoulder but have the need to be closer. I wiggle into his arms, lay my head on his chest. I can hear his heartbeat, his pulse. He holds me tighter. There’s another couple on a bench near us, in an identical position and it makes me smile.

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“The water doesn’t even look like water, does it?” he asks. I state that it looks like tar. I imagine throwing my phone in, then being swallowed by it myself. I remember my dream from a night before where I jumped into the river and I wasn’t even afraid. “I’ll go and swim this summer,” I think to myself.

One of the swans just won’t go to sleep, the others are already tucked in. “It’s like me!” he says. “It is,” I say.

3 July, 2016
around 8 PM

My fingers are all red from peeling the bell peppers I have just roasted. The evening sun is creeping through the kitchen window and I can hear the birds singing and the music coming from the couch, played by some of my favourite people. I’ve just opened the wine, the soup is bubbling on the stove and I feel as utterly content as I’ve ever felt. Happiness has come to visit and it’s present, right here and now.

What love is

“You smell like home,” I say at exactly 00:39 AM. He stirs up; confused, warm, sleepy.

“Huh? I smell like home? … Thank you, I guess,” he manages to utter with his eyes still half closed. Suddenly he kisses my forehead, clearly putting a lot of effort into the gesture, then turns over.

“This is what love is,” I think.

Dear EU

Dear EU,
will you take me back?

I heard people said they want to leave you,
it almost gave me a heart attack

Dear EU,
will you please, take me back?

I don’t know what they were thinking
should we just give them all a slap?

Dear EU,
take me back, won’t you?

I’m so sad all the time, don’t know what to do
I swear to god, this place will turn into a zoo

Dear, dear EU…

I’m so tired of being blue