Strands

Small strands of identity loose in my hands.

Emptiness on my skull where wishes once resided.

I was patiently growing myself into new plans.

But all I want now is to take my dream and hide it.

It's a loss of self I should have seen coming.

A history repeating itself between mothers and daughters.

A fast breakdown of the person I'm used to being

into person I don't recognise any longer.

It's always the route that leaves you no control,

that ends up being the thing that hurts the most.

The despair, the depression and a dark hole.

I wish being me was a culmination of choice.

I'm sitting here counting my stresses 

in loose pieces and bald patches. 

Dit jaar

Dit is een jaar van ruïnes.

Een afbrokkeling van het constante,

het verzekerde, de gewenning en

herkenning.

Een symboliek van verleden tijd.

Een samenkomst van onzekerheid.

Het breken van breinen,

en harten.

Mijne en de jouwe,

de hare en de hunne.

Dit is een jaar van eindes, 

abrupt en voortdurend. 

Wonden die

emoties oproepen

en mij opeens de adem

en de kracht in mijn knieën benemen.

De verlies een verandering

(teveel teveel verandering) 

van tijden waarvan ik dacht dat ze

altijd hetzelfde zouden blijven.

Dit is een jaar van een rouw,

en het is met reden dat

rouw en rauw hetzelfde klinken.

Hoe anders

kan ik het gevoel beschrijven 

dat tot in mn botten gaat 

en zich daar thuis laat voelen?

Nooit meer komt terug 

wat vanzelfsprekend was.

Behalve mijn tranen.

Dit is een jaar dat niet de mijne is.

Ik heb het afgeschreven en

aan de wind teruggegeven.

Een ritueel om de goden te eren

hopend voor rust in mijn brein.

Voor nu laat de rest van dit jaar 

aan mij voorbij gaan.

Laat mij slapen.

Als een beer,

wachtend op een nieuw jaar.

Hit

Clack your heels and close your eyes.

Maybe it will bring you to fantasy land.

We'll be Dorothy and you the hurricane,

bringing life, as we know it, to a still stand.

It's the same thing on repeat. 

In you come whirling bringing 

chaos along. And I need you to see

that the defeat in our eyes are

tears we were meant to be crying. 

The way we can't process

any feelings made out of anger

has me revoking my own sanity,

for the sake of yours. There is 

no way that will end the hurt.

You like to punch in windows

than complain that you got cut,

forcing yourself through openings

that you yourself had barred.

That you yourself had locked.

If you need our lips bleeding, 

you already got your wish.

We let you hurt and burn

to your hearts content and positioned 

ourselves to take every hit.

Blue eyes lined our faces.

As you deemed it not enough,

you angled for another punch.

With a shovel and a dig,

You buried everyone's love.

You didn't lose us, you lost your patience. 

This isn't a fairytale in which it all get repaired magically.

Blood is very hard to get out of the carpet.

And shiny red heels are hard to come by, you see.

Rubbed raw

If I asked you for a minute,

will you give me your time?

I wished I used to believe them

when they said that time flies.

I have lost so many seconds 

chasing the idea of forever

but now I no longer recognise

what's happened to my life.

There's a scream stuck in my throat 

and it's leaving me choked.

I hit the floor bleeding out 

the words I never spoke.

Holding on to expired things like

the advice I wanted to ask for.

Losing myself in the depth of everything

until I no longer float.

~And I can't feel.

And I can't feel.

And I can't feel. 

Is this even real?~

All I'm left with is anger,

and that is not enough.

Let me burn it down.

Let me open up.

My soul is rubbed raw like I have taken a fall.

My chest tight with everything I repressed.

I still remember a different version of you.

I scratch the memories in so I won't forget.

All of the hurt never stops weighing me down. 

I keep replaying all the things that I now regret. 

A visual of the persons we both were before.

I burn the memories in so I won't forget.

Time started to chase me

and it has me captured now.

I can't escape the truth of it all

when pinned to the ground. 

No matter what I do,

I can't escape the hurt

and the things that changed.

Please. I want out.

Every time I turn my back, the rollercoaster restarts.

Everything moves so fast and I can't keep up.

It feels like drowning in my own breath. 

I cut the memories in, in the hope it stops.

Life keeps its pace and it's moving along

as my emotions are slowly catching up. 

I don't know how much more I can take.

I sear the memories in, in the hope it stops.

~These are the things I don't know.

These are the tears that won't flow.

This is the pain that has me blocked.

These are the thoughts that left me stuck.

This is a wound that won't heal.

These are new feelings I can't feel.

This is an end to what was before.

This is a new time no one asked for.

This is not where the story stops.~

If I asked you for a minute,

will you give me your time?

I wished I used to believe them

when they said that time flies.

I have lost so many seconds 

chasing the idea of forever

but now I no longer recognise

what's happened to my life.

Ik wil

“Waarom fietste ze daar?

Wat had ze aan?

Had ze zo laat over straat moeten gaan?

Waarom was ze niet thuis,

opgesloten?

Sleutel weggooid?

Wie heeft besloten

dat vrouwen de vrijheid mogen hebben

om te leven?”

Ik wil vrouwen op de straat.

Dronken, zingend,

S avonds laat.

Het geluid van lachen,

ongehinderd.

Zachte buiken

vol met vlinders.

Ik wil dat vrouwen 

een beetje kunnen leven.

Glazen bier 

drinken en feesten.

Korte kleding 

voor lange benen.

Onbezorgde grote stappen.

Ik wil vrouwen in hun vrijheid. 

Stemmen met volume 

en met blijheid.

Geen zoekende ogen

in hun nabijheid

of blikken op de klok

voor de tijd.

Ik wil dat vrouwen

fouten kunnen maken

en dan door kunnen

met hun dagen.

Zonder al de 

interview vragen.

Net als *mannen kunnen.

*cis het

Stained

Broken mirror days 

that turn everything off kilter.

I try to remember to breath. 

I try to remember to live.

To move through the days 

like everything is normal. 

And everything is normal.

But nothing truly is. 

My soul feels rubbed raw

like I tried to get a stain out.

The edges of the hurt dirt 

all that I can feel.

But the cloth of reality won't 

turn back to normal.

No matter how much 

I let my hands bleed.

I am forever worn out and altered.

Never again the same.

Never again unbroken. 

Never again unstained.

Winner

This was all I was made for.

This is what I was made to do.

Sliding parts and particles,

and into them slides you.

Violating in the way you stare.

Hands that glide me into submission.

I can feel your eyes in the back in my head

and I know that you are tracking

my weaknesses to turn yourself on.

My synapses firing warning shots.

You can't hack that kind of reaction.

You think that this is hot.

I can see your pupils dilating 

and I know that you can't hide 

how much that you hate me

(for being like a woman)

and how much you wish I died.

And if I look into your mind 

I know what I will see.

A gun against my temple,

and me upon my knees.

In your mind I'm begging you

to make sure the angle is correct

I'll blend out into your carpet 

and that will be that. 

I would like to congratulate you.

Not a lot of people have the tools

to make me remember what they did

but I guess that you do.

The hands I tried to dismember

from where they were left on my body

permanently residing now

on the inside of my knees.

Intimate violator, 

but in a long distance key.

Licking your lips at the thought

that you finally own me.

Show it to the world,

the way you thought you won.

Your obscurity isn't protection,

it's you fading into no one.

If you need me to ease your panic,

I will turn my skin into stone and leather.

If that will convince you I can take the beating.

If that will make you feel better.

Wiping the back off my hand 

on my lips you cracked.

I never learned how to back down

from a simple attack.

I hope the smears of blood 

will burn into your eyes

until looking at me repulses you

from having another try.

I'm not counted among the numbers.

But you are….

Running away from this

will only get you so far.

Winner.