Artificial

Poetry

My eyes won’t open
This is a surprise
Inside a freezing examination room
I’m on the central table, naked
Eyelids stitched closed, memory erased
Why am I here?
I feel how their empty faces stare at me
Eyes scan through, I am their product
Numerical identity, a bar code
I refuse to listen, the words fade away
Arms and legs in leather restraints
They butcher me like a pig
Breathing is a chore, when organs are
Taken one by one
My stomach is almost hollow, but I’m still alive
Our future celebrates technological sadism
They all look like me
I don’t even know which one is real
Love and rational thought is easily practiced
Humanity fooled, destroyed
Thinking is only a code
How many like me have been here before?
In need to be fixed
I could be like them, consciousness micro-shipped
How will I ever know if I’m artificial?
How will I ever know if my feelings are real?

 

Broken Records

Poetry

Oceans unaware, eyes tied
Seagulls faraway screeching
Waves pushed aside like blankets
Anxious routines, broken records keep on circling
Blinds closed and then opened
Feeling the air, empty handed
Phrases repeat themselves
Never been used to silence
The light is also blinding
That screen is an exception
Same programme from 7am
I’m still paying attention
Another day, it’s all the same
Prepared beds, medication ready
They shut the lights, I try to drift to sleep
Counting from a thousand to zero
Backwards in threes

Cracked Foundations

Poetry

In a hideaway
A flower peaks through
Distorted stone walls
Who would have thought
Such wonder could be found
Inside a cracked foundation?
If I gave you a little glance
To my broken heart
You’d see a flower
Growing out of the cracks
Because over time
Even a lost soul can blossom
And like migrating birds
Fly into a paradise

Burden

Poetry

Inflicted damage through corrupt touch
I am the infected- bearing wounds under the skin
Living lifelessly in the asylum nightmare
My lips were kissed by seductress silence
She turned my tongue into a broken forge
I could not craft any more words
Frozen solace, my only comfort
These solemn routines permanently haunt me
I have dug my own grave with my bare hands
For my head to rest
Bury me slowly, I am nothing but a burden
Blind from the flood of misery and terrified
I must have been allergic to life

Debt

Poetry

Rats play chase inside the cupboard
My empty storage space
When I come over to open it
They scratch their nails into the wood
Glare through me and hiss
Like the broken boiler in the other room
I look around but there’s nothing there
It’s hard to walk but I’m used to seeing in the darkness
Who knows how long it’s been?
The numbers, the letters, the loans
I’m in debt, but who cares, who the hell cares?
Love is still attainable and free

 

Specimen

Poetry

Between two walls
She is framed inside a cedar box
Like a rare insect specimen
Nailed on the edge of the hardboard
Under glass enclosure
For their close inspection
Are her eyes bright enough?
Is the head still intact?
Why is she positioned like a broken orchid?
Never right enough, never good enough
Constantly observed
Tired of having dried up wings
Disintegrated legs made of wooden sticks
Forcing more made up smiles, a trapped fly
Self-destroying parasite
Over-thinking, self-analyzing
Unnecessary introspection turns the faucet on
She chokes on salt-water, if nobody’s watching
When it’s appropriate

Bleeding Fingers

Poetry

My poor bleeding fingers
Emptiness lingers
Traces on the bed sheets
He found me, made me shiver
Torn into little pieces like a tissue
Used too many times- unsuitable for wiping tears
Falling apart

He was a demon, thirsty incubus
Succumbed to his sweet talk
Made me think the unthinkable
I wanted to kill him but he kept moving so quickly
Teeth bulged through the bed sheets
No voices- just dripping
My questionable christening

He obliged to be my God
I tried to sob out that I lost my religion
But I couldn’t stop being his open scissors
I want to become clean again
The martyrdom stains are like ink
He called me his dirty, filthy bitch
Choking on his hard omnipotence

Finally finished, he left with a smile
Shut the door, I heard the lock
For the time being, he’s gone

I touch myself and stared into bleeding fingers
He captured me and now I serve
I wish I knew for how long, the contract was never given
Little bird in the cage, without a feeder
If only I could escape
And take his heart out with my poor little fingers