She is still young…
Another day of emptiness
This life is wearing her down
The room around her is a mess
Her children safe with her mom
She is still young but feeling old
Two children with different fathers
She sits on the bathroom floor alone
The shower chain broke
Her neck hurts
Then another night of emptiness to wear her down
Naked to the world she wraps her sadness in a gown
Her children fast asleep she sears the dark with glassy eyes
Choosing carefully among her husband’s business ties
“Over!” she cries through rope ends and silk ties
Beautiful life escaping her young blue eyes
But life holds her hand, refusing to let go
Leaving her breathing on the floor
They’re still asleep don’t hear her cry
And she’s still obsessed with rope ends
This time she picks a stronger tie
With Winnie the Pooh and friends
She is still young but feeling old
A child dying to be a mother
Now she hangs from the ceiling all alone
All pressure is falling from her
Seeing guilt has taught her guilt she’s raised on disbelief
Merely twenty beautiful but with a taste for grief
She has learnt all that there is to know about hopelessness
Seeing that no effort in this world can stand her test
“Over!” she cries through rope ends and silk ties
Beautiful life escaping her young blue eyes
And Winnie is strong, would never let her fall
Prevents her from breathing till she’s not there at all
But life holds her hands, refusing to let go
Leaving her breathing on the floor
[Johan Hallgren]
[Daniel Gildenlow]
Seeing guilt has taught her guilt she’s raised on disbelief
Merely twenty beautiful but with a taste for grief
She has learnt all that there is to know about helplessness
Seeing that no caring in this world can ease her stress
Helpless she lies in rope ends and undies
Unseeing eyes fixating Eeyore’s smile
“Over!” she cries as she’s going unblind
Still in this life
Still in this troubled mind
The ceiling let go, the old house let her fall
Dropping her breathing to the hard cold floor
Hitting her head – a broken china soul
Red stains on porcelain and she’s not there at all
Breathing she cries for rope ends and silk ties
Beautiful eyes Piglet stands shy behind
Broken she lies undead and unblind
Beautiful life
Beautiful crying young eyes
Blackened and bruised, learning how to see
Staring at her tooth – crimsoned ivory
Hours they pass this broken china soul
Red stains on porcelain
And she’s not there at all…
“…and years later I would find You hanging
alas the subte irony in shortering life with an extension lead
before I could get You down I died so many times…
thoughts about running to the kitchen for a knife to cut You down
but I learned that there is no way of leaving the room
when someone is hanging from the ceiling
Your body just won’t allow You that rest
You stay
to watch her face slowly turn blue
finally to let You weight add to hers
doubling the burden
awaking her to the burden
that brough her there in the first place:
LIFE”
“The Sisters of Solitude…
They love and hurt, break and are broken, the sisters of solitude
They cannot shake the dust from the ground
Cannot rise from the ashes, the sisters of solitude
They reach out to embrace the world, good and evil, weak and strong
They will settle for nothing less, the sisters of solitude
They love that they be loved, give that they be given
Hurt that they get hurt, the sisters of solitude
Hence, one loses weight by the second
Throws up what she can instead of what she cannot
Hence, two have tried to hang themselves, too strong to shut life out
Yet too weak to live it
Hence, the little one dissapears, melts into the walls, stands back
Agrees, unsatisfied
They all carry the end of the world in their chests
Heirs of sadness and irony, of settling for less, of bitter consent
Of mothers and mothers of solitude
They all carry to break free, the sisters of solitude
I fear them all so…
I love them all so…”