pls handle with care <3 (A DEAL WITH GOD)

pls handle with care <3 (A DEAL WITH GOD)

alba hiedras

i prefer disgusting over boring I GUESS I GUESS I GUESS. TO GROW UP IS TO TELL YOUR SISTER: YES I DO NOT BELIEVE ANYMORE. YES I ACCEPT. YES YOU ARE. YES. TO GROW UP IS TO TELL MY ANGELS GOODBYE. bathing in scathing hot water. tearing up the paper in the public restroom. accepting the help offered by your parents. thinking maybe you have dandruff. i believe the flavor profile of “goat cheese pumpkin olives” is extremely plain.

my mother asks me how the studios are decorated. many white walls, many self designed posters. one floor painted neon green. the two sisters describe: once everything grey, now everything in color. once everything meticulously in order, now everything explosively creative. i, too, love renouncing the past completely, erasing it and using it as just a tool to construct my own narrative of the future. i pick up their books. SHINY, GLISTENING, MOUTH-DRIPPING, MOTH-LIKE.

taking naps 3:) taking naps in the bed of this week takin evil joyful naps with the faux fur blanket and the duck feathers duvet this year i’ve moved 9 times. 4 times the last month.

being a CUNT: PLS HANDLE WITH CARE handle with care <3 treat me well <3 i : feel DIZZY i’m taking: sertraline topiramate quetiapine sitting in the middle of the stairs like an ANGEL yes, too tired for the steps. in the need of remembering being 14 and writing doctor’s notes “she cannot walk, no medical reasons” being 15 minutes late for class, no periods or sweat for 8 months.

“en esta tierra nadie cree en nada” we are in a circle. she writes: from the mountains, rivers, seas: my blood and yours. i draw her a serpent. it is an amulet. she makes a triangle shape with her arms towards the floor and talks about roots. we agree: you step into this city and there is 1) emptiness 2) void 3) liberty 4) evil 5) violence 6) love 7) past i carry past: I HAVE TO BELIEVE I HAVE TO BELIEVE. i carry violence I HAVE TO BELIEVE I HAVE TO BELIEVE i carry love I HAVE TO BELIEVE

“en esta tierra nadie cree en nada” i declare next time, write in my journal, drink my water thinking it’s holy and blow out the candle. i think of myself as really smart and really desperate

my girls : B says “you are my mother figure”. she to me, is a princess and i fantasize about dying for her. this last sentence repeats continuosly in my life.

bein frank honest crude and sadly realistic with myself::: my desires lie in finding THE pattern. to spin and weave. smack my mouth and spit the gum. my fantasies lie in being a middle aged woman. bleaching my hair yellow blonde, putting it up on a ponytail with a yellow pencil, hurrying outside, taking a bite of the green apple. i put a song from adele on my instagram “should i give up or should i just keep chasing pavements?”

M and me spend almost everyday together. we cook fried rice and we decide to tattoo each other’s names on our lips. PINK PINK. she says “they don’t understand but i am a little in love with you”. we are friends. we feel like sisters in this city. when her brother comes to berlin, i go with her to the airport. she gets a boyfriend and i like them together. she asks me for space and i support it. during that time, i try to commit suicide twice and we stop talking. i write to my first girlfriend “that day i skipped classes and went to visit you to the beach. i appreciate the way we threw ourselves into our teenage fantasies”. this is in the third email we exchange after not talking for two years.

N and me see each other for the first time from far away and hold stares for a long time. we are still in school and we still have to ask permission to see each other. she likes to say we are the only interesting people in our city and i try to pretend i don’t enjoy being her only friend. she has fevers weekly, she tries to watch a movie every day and she has a DEEP INTRICATE INNER WORLD. i love her deeply. in the email i tell her i am sorry and ask for her forgiveness. she says she is sorry and asks for my forgiveness. even after breaking up we continue to see each other for years. every time she breaks up with her boyfriend we resume our friendship and everytime she breaks up our friendship she resumes her relationship. she writes “if you ever need to talk”. i tell her i’m waiting for the ambulance and she never replies.

playing the victim i enjoy typing my little poems , OPEN CALL SACRIFICE

the angels hover over me (VICTIMARY COMPLEX)

should i get diagnosed baby? i feel like taking the personality of a narcissistic would be enough for me -I TAKE I TAKE I TAKE- my therapist corrects my email and deletes the paragraph of me asking for forgiveness. “sorry for being taken advantage of?”

she writes “answer when you’re ready” i cry about her and the woman says “cut the cord”. i cry about her and tell her i can’t. she says “tell me where it hurts” i say my right hip. she whispers “pressures of womanhood”.

“i fail to see what it is she did wrong” MY FRIENDS, THEIR FRIENDS, MY FAMILY, THE PEOPLE IN THE PSYCH WARD list the mistakes. i listen and i try to understand .

playlist <3 https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3A289JBUOzXwdm0ZMldXpy?si=dae3994b4c984f2b

poems written before being admitted to a pscyhiatric hospital in berlin. december 2021