We explore abandoned houses wrecked from years of hurricanes
I find a key
I find a teenage girl so strange that it makes me feel that she should not exist
or at least she should not exist here.

(Dictionary definitions are not always much help in defining the weird. Some refer immediately to the super-natural, but it is by no means clear that supernatural entities must be weird. In many ways, a natural phenomenon such as a black hole or teenage girl is more weird than a vampire)

with no cock in the fight and all skin in the game
the youth is running of

tonight I've watched The Moon
go down The Night is now half-gone; youth
goes; I am
in bed alone

THE YOUNG-GIRL DOESN'T KISS YOU,
SHE DROOLS OVER YOU THROUGH HER TEETH.
fake gucci dripping from her perfect frame

between the young girl and the world there is a window
nothing touches the young girl
the young girl touches nothing

she is substantial yet lacking substance
strutting around in last season’s stilettos

there is something professional about everything the young girl does

(don’t worry
i’ll just put you in edit mode)

the young girl’s ass is a global village
before you know it the moon is up again, raining sweet chaos on all below
out of the wombwork they come, spinning soft truths
the promise of monsters

we press closer to her skin
she takes the pain away
flesh to flesh

(The whole life of the Young-Girl coincides with what she wants to forget)

1.

[this images contains everything I found in your bin]

industrial sky (pure sunset)

a video of a dog dressed as different fruits (i think your mom sent it to you)

You take grainy photos of how your cellulite changes over the days
we never describe each other in our own words
but in polygons, vertex resolution and Non-Uniform Rational B-Splines
I ray trace you in small steps
cautiously adjusting your edges
it’s easier to hold yourself together on a screen

bruised by moss you stumble over discarded polygons
the mess of yourself

you draw the .obj on my lower back as a promise for better days
at night you talk with a chatbot until it falls asleep
when you wake up you discuss your dreams.
most days the chatbot cannot remember theirs
but you always remember yours

(your tears don’t wake you up any longer.)

we spend summer nights where no one can find us,
between pool tables and bathroom floors, under dark clouds
we read books about breathlessness and other ways of holding ourselves back:
mumbling, clenching fists, closing eyes, biting nails
jagged edges on our fingertips, frozen feet on the shore
you gave us oxycodone for all our broken heads
from the lack of sunlight to the flash of the SLR
But i only take ZenRylax for the burning in my heart

You show me old images of our sick bodies,
from when we were fifteen and knew more
I'm afraid they're a metaphor for something else
and how we sometimes long for clouding,
for the violence of an unintended touch

these are our secret potions,
the blurred photos reduce your thinking ability
but tomorrow we will brew versions of ourselves
as we remember each other, highlighter in your left hand

(tomorrow we write on paper instead of this place that needs a battery)

2.

[this images contains everything I found in your bin]

she was upside down again
trapped in a hunger that rushes past everything
a fragile creature
so soft

she grows too fast
too fast for her own bones, her own skin
too fast for her own good

she reminds me of the house i used to live in as a child
sticky sweet and vulnerable

sap drips

she welcomes the sun on her noisy flesh

a woman of no appearance
she sleeps in cinders
the ashes of herself
embers warm her cooling body
roots entangle her limbs

a silent escape from silicone

colonised celestial bodies glide through digitised backwaters
searching for new homes deep in neural networks beyond the comprehension of those who built them
broken pixels weep in darkness for everyone’s losses
their illuminated teardrops slide across LED screens dripping with sex n drugs n rock n roll

3. [this images contains a corrupted file]

the young girl called to ask if i still loved her
i backed her up on my hard drive

at twelve years old she decided to be beautiful
the young girl is an optical illusion
from afar she is an angel from up close she is a beast

she wants new breasts for her 18th birthday

the young girls body is not a piece of merchandise is it is a tool for work

there is surely no place where one feels as horribly alone as in the arms of a young girl

I made a two-dimensional map that corresponds to the young girl’s body for you to take home with you
it drained my battery

you remember my usb sticks, how i would keep them in my body hoping they would translate my pain into a jpeg or pdf.

Sometimes I long for numbed nerve endings.

4. [this images contains everything i want to forget]

the whirring of the PC fan keeps me awake at night
rendered images of the young girl slip in and out of screens
high contrast on soft skin

your scratch disk is full, please delete some memories
make room for me
in your thoughts/bed/harddrive

hard drive me home
heart drive me home

i cannot draw how much i miss sleeping with you

I feel weird in my body
memories take over
I live another life when I sleep, where my head is hijacked,
where earth is completely burnt and everything and all is dying

Only this one girl survived
On a reversion table
The last living thing

Fragile

Baby

Soft

Mother

Wolf

We had better things to do than take care of the young girl
But it is this young girl
Always coming back in my dreams

Not just a young girl

But the only living thing that survived this earth

And now she is me

The young girl is me

Where is my microphone

Give me my microphone

I need an echo effect

The effect that comes closest to my voice from when i was younger

When i was fresh and free

I am so scared to see you

I am so scared to see you die