Apr 27, 2010


medium lighting
inside a brown room
but through my eyes it looks as blue as the sea can get.
i'm lying on my bed
pretending that i'm swimming
moving my hands and feet with convalsive movements
to the sound that noone hears but me,
and i'm smiling
i'm full
i'm happy
the happiest i've been in weeks
i'm gold
like a goldfish
swimming around, inside
my notional self made aquarium
that i call bedroom (my bedroo-oo-oo-m)
not really understanding
that in 10 seconds
i will forget it all
all the happiness, joy and completion
but i'll still happen to be
in this same aquarium

*This is included in my first zine.
Contact me if you want one.


I feel small
for my skin
Do you wanna
come in

Apr 25, 2010


See how gallant the lighthouse stands
like time never touches it
or it's a classic design
the older it grows the more beautiful it gets
We're used to watch it
getting beaten by the waves
Yet the lighthouse remains silent and disciplined
Remains there forever
A blind guide for the ships

My heart is a lighthouse
covered in bubblewrap
destined to be given as a gift
to young girls
in ballet classes
dreaming to be ballerinas
to young boys in the choir
singing about the war.

Apr 23, 2010


Roman holidays lasted longer this year for the rats of the town
We might not remember the great show
but we remember the aftermath of bright lights
and the screams of the ecstatic crowd

Nothing's more sensual than scars
I colour you intrigued for creation
you vote for Catastrophe
Ascending like an idea
descending like god

The berries you saw
on the back of your hand
are now spoiled stains on the collar of your shirt
They might look like lipstick as well

It all comes down to believing your sight
and choose what you want to see
Is it lipstick?
Is it berries?
These goods are not available anymore

A cheap lipstick acquired from a fashion magazine, Revlon sample kiss left by anonymous source
A bunch of conservatory made grapes of wild taste, Prince's "Purple Rain" playing in the background
to enhance the motion

It's up to you to choose what to believe.

Now that you got the message,
do i get anything?

Apr 19, 2010


For people into signs

asthmatic leather jacket
leftover cloth of the apocalypse
i kneel on my knees and with adjurations
my charm makes out with your stitches
"please wear me", i know you do it well

needles pierce through childish skin
a vaccine i never did
now owes me a punch
nausea spells my name with a boner
singing songs of suspicion

i know you have attached
a dagger into my spine
a curly haired heaven faints
as the doctors aspire for new customers
and green windows contrast your rosy cheeks

a man of red pepper raised in corn
those unreachable ressurections, those salad days
the pavements stated you know me well

bianca, draw me a portrait as i laugh
i know you will do great
exhilarated scorpios never survived (a) cancer

Apr 16, 2010



Apr 15, 2010


Lately i'm getting my coffee addiction back
and i feel happy
getting to see my brother getting older
a boy turns to a man
he got livers for lovers and lovers for livers
and a spirit full of hell, still
cannibalizing festivals
thrifting with
such naivity and such levity.
how are you doing lately?

I got my name written
on a tall grave
I got my fate working
on every jinx
I got a fork and a spoon
to eat misery
and the summer's round the corner
playing ball with my old classmates
that used to call me a bore
other spaces older times

I feel light as a feather as i write.

Strangers are only strange when they're strangers
Embrace the anonimity
I stay silent cause i have a lot to say

Sigh and seek secondhand salvation
we bought the guns from the grocery store
where you use to buy candy
for the infants

A moral eclipsis of a bipolar syndrome refugee
i pass out in the store
the store lady kisses me
and i feel seven years old again

We progress like bread
necessity drives us
and we feel guilty
like the bread and the rice and the hand
in your plate. and the head?
The world watches me now
unveil my travels
of misconnections
and objectivity
so thoughtlessly
sounding like a girl moaning
for never managing to walk on high heels.

Apr 13, 2010


Coarse face
Well-worn tires
I like the girls with Cleopatra's haircut
I like the girls with nose rings

Don't believe in the Blond, it's just a myth

I stand on a pallet
The wrecker never came
Around me only bulldozers
Like lions without jungle
Like people without money

We have broadened infinity
in multilingual diaries
with moldy memories

Unwelcome daydreams
march between
tropic storms

Damn Loneliness,
I broke down the hive with a bat
The bees escaped, a stampede for exit
In the black and yellow noise
noone could distinguish
the queen bee

Apr 12, 2010


you hire a guy to get the job done
it's all about facial trust
and a handshake
like love, but, here you can sign a paper
like army, but, there's no fear of getting killed
it's not about getting into the river
now matter how cold the water is
but if you are finally getting to the other side

loyal tramp trap for knaves
doing business well
sleeping in hostile beds
now the soil stares at me
like a cloud
(when i'm looking in the ground feels like looking in the sky)

cause the soil is safe and the stars
oh' the stars are all shiny, but, they're far away

hello, my lover i feel the convenience
of being away or being silent
am i like this? i've always been
a movie

the band is connected through cables
the beat passes through veins
the soul intrigued and vast
and now the soil feels unsafe
the eyes become electric
lightning bolts enhance the feeling
and it all becomes

Apr 8, 2010


A basketball injection drills sensually your critically aclaimed womb of roses.
Tongues licking big city windows.
In suicide letters and basement shows,
I was given birth.


fuck you take it away from me

Apr 7, 2010


peculiar answers launch
from even more peculiar mouths
we're left with moths
in the month of spring
no remorse for hungry beats
and misty eyes
i'm a task addict
post-it freak

there are boys in the corner
throwing bones to hungry dogs
ball and chains bound my fate
fear flushing through my eyes
"life will continue for everyone", evidently
and i understand
once again,
the more torturing something is,
the more you enjoy it

Apr 1, 2010


there's a hidden grace
in a drunk driver's touch
all those things you know he has seen
all those things he might be seeing now
halucinating in reveries
of witches and black cats
you are lost and you are here

all the beautiful girls come to town for spring
and all the boys with tattoos
flirting with paranoia like a sponge
serve drinks to the darkness

i drew with a marker on my shoulders
two horse pedals
to exorcise bad luck, i'm the one anyways
my heart is safe like a grave

they say they kill the horses when they grow old
killing beauty before decadence
consciously, so fascinating

they say they kill the horses when they grow old
i think i just found my ideal job