The Void

Seeing myself in the mirror.
Lighting the same old cigarette I don’t want to smoke.
Inhaling the same old habits I don’t want to breathe.
I realise, I caught your glimpse, Void. Creeping up my chest, with the intimate touch of your icy hands, caressing my insides.
The familiar numbness, leaking from my subconscious and spreading into my body like poison.
You fill me out like a growing shadow, overtaking my essence and replacing it with yours.
Until I find a callous gaze pointed at me in the mirror.
And it is you staring at me.
Through my own hollow eyes.

 

A poem by Pia Petersson

Strange Man

What did you feel,
When you went to the sea
And sat there,
Every day?
– Staring at the waves,
Crushing at your feet
… In anger?
… Sadness?
…Lovingly?

 

A poem by Pia Petersson
Artwork by Pia Petersson

Ocean

When your eyes meet mine,
What can they see?
There’s a shield I created, 
With a world underneath.
Where an ocean flows,
Through the doors of my soul,
Carrying secrets, 
That nobody knows.
A deep blue pit of truth roaring mutely,
Since the day that I cut out its sound.
A solemn creature maintaining its silence,
Once poured strings of words through my mouth.
But as my soul spoke,
They heard a strange language.
And as my heart sang,
The melody wasn’t theirs.
And as my spirit danced in bliss, 
They could not grasp my rhythm.
And as my eyes touched their core,
They were scared.
An odd creature moving among them,
I felt lonely and misunderstood.
So I silenced the ocean and put on a mask
And pretended that it was all good.

 

A poem by Pia Petersson

Artwork by Pia Petersson 

 

Apocalypse

And what if we all died tomorrow
Because we created our fate?
Would you regret that you left from your loved ones?
Would you try to forgive those you hate?
Would you finally go let your heart say
All the things you have silenced so long?
Would you speak out the three words “I love you”
‘Cause the fear suddenly made you strong?
Would you cry for the many missed chances?
Would you tell everyone there’s still hope?
Would you curl up in bed and give you the gun
Or try hold the ones that can’t cope?

 

A poem by Pia Petersson
Image from Tantric Dakini Oracle by Nik Douglas & Penny Slinger

Date Night

And frozen am I.
And crippled.
Words are leaving my mouth.
Without tone.
Unnatural.
Serious.
I sound like a clone.
Torn
Am I inside.
Trying to seek for approval.
I hide
Behind a mask.
Dead, German robot am I.
Oh why,
Can I not be myself?!
I ask.
In silence.
But no-one responds.
All senses gone.
Beyond my grasp.
And my control.
I stare at you.
I’m such a fool.
Uncool.
I’ve lost my sex-appeal.
My mojo.
My flirt.
My nerves made of steel.
I can feel
You withdraw.
Think twice –
Never thrice.
Your decision is made –
A weirdo am I.
Boring and dry.
While truth is:
I’m just way too shy.
I’m scared.
I’m scarred.
And torn apart.
A shadow of my glorious past.
A shriveled,
Shrunk,
Drunk
Leftover
Of the sparkling,
Sober,
Confident woman I used to be.
But all of that you’ll never see.
Cause when with you
I can’t be me.

 

A poem by Pia Petersson
Photography by Pia Petersson

Carcass

Energy,
You’re lacking me.
Where have you gone
while I was sleep-
ing?
– Have you gone
while I was dream-
ing?
Since you’ve been gone
I have been feel-
ing dead.

Energy,
Come back to me,
please,
enter me.
Revive and kiss my organs,
please.
Arouse my nervous system,
please.
Unease,
I have been feel-
ing since
you left me with a chill.

Energy,
You are the sweetest,
are the neatest
little keeper,
are the very needed
base of all my body does,
indeed.
Without you it will cease away,
the bleakest way to die today,
the bleakest way to leave.

Oh Energy!
I’m on my knees!
I beg you, please!
– to be my pleaser.
Pleasure my earlobes,
all down to my toes,
with your fingers, your mouth,
with your tongue and your teeth.
I want you so badly,
be part of my team,
please,
without you there’s nothing,
just a shadow of me.

A poem by Pia Petersson
Photography by Irene Muth

Drifting bleakly

Lost.
Oh no!
I’m lost again.
Lost.
Because I cannot tell
just how I feel
or what the hell
I am.
Oh, lost!
Because I cannot tell
what is that happened,
cannot say
since when
and what I am today.
Oh, lost!
It’s that
I fear the most.
Not lost in time and space,
you see,
– lost innermost.
I’m lost in me.
Lost on my way.
Lost, though secure.
Lost any day.
Lost any cure.
I’m helpless,
dazed,
confused,
unfused.
My body’s every pore is oozing,
vaporizing energy,
– escaping me
and leaving back a blank space
full of nothing.
See!
It’s there I float,
all by myself.
Don’t have no hold.
Can’t breathe,
no air!
No nothing here to…
Sea!
A splashing,
wild one,
raging,
splurging,
dashing child!
Disinclined to reconcile.
Distressed and troubled,
agitated.
No mild breeze to animate it.
Worried,
sick,
unsettled,
scared.
Tipped over,
psyched out,
unaware…

Oh little child, my heart, my Self,
come to my arms and let me help.
Come rest your head, I’m here with you.
You know it will be over soon.

A poem by Pia Petersson
Photography by Irene Muth

Light at the top of the tunnel

…And when I touched light at the ceiling of the Belleville tunnel, for an infinitely infinite feeling split of a second, which I had seemingly been waiting for an ultimately eternal life span;
and I felt their hollow eyes piercing my back cynically;
and I saw the dazzled looks on their pale, frigid, empty faces;
and I heard their thoughts stumbling over freshly grown branches of the unknown;
and I smelled their anger and frustration, caused by the uninvited guest I let run free and unchained, scaring the living dead and intruding into the vaults they had built of despair and hopelessness , forcing their facades to drop…

 

…All I could do was smile.

 

Freedom had set its foot over my doorstep.

 

Oh lost friend! How different was your face to all the faces I expected you to wear!
How good felt the invigorating, warm embrace of your sturdy arms!
How alive did I feel when your breath touched my heart and cut the strings my brain had grown to imprison it.

 

 

 

Words by Pia Petersson
Photography by Pia Petersson

2016 Female story – Good bye my “friend”

Your words hit me like bolts of lightning.
Every single one enlightening.
And even though they hurt me deep-
ly; even though they frightened me,
I’m glad of what you’ve made me see,
of all the things that you’ve set free…
You “do not give a single fuck”,
I’m “nothing” to you,
You “don’t care”.
You loved the way that I could suck
but if I left, you’d kick my butt
without a fair…
“Fare well”
I forced my lips pronounce.
Full of shock my heart was poun-
ding hard against my ribs.
The sound of it made me feel sick.
So sick, I wished I’d vomited.
Just to get rid
of all the sick
words you threw at me,
while raging – fit
to join the AA clique.
Misfit.
That’s sadly what you are.
You’re a drug-taker superstar.
And I’m not saying this to judge,
nor out of grudge
or need to smudge
my memories.
No, on top of that
I frankly never tried to stop
you, well aware that that is not
the god-damn way to make you chuck
your habits down the drain…
There’s nothing here that needs explained.
Yeah, honestly, I’m not a Saint
myself.
I have been through this hell.
And so I know there is a spell
that can’t be broken just so well.
Only the owner of the shell
can leave;
Decide to give up grief
and hold on to a new belief;
A hope – and even if it’s brief –
it can be that which makes us free
ourselves.
Of the shell.
… But in the mean time you are stuck.
And you gave me a mean time,
I was out of luck,
when you decided that it was the right time to chuck
six beers down your throat
and starting to act
like that bloke
who’s aggressive and up to no good.
You wanted a fight;
Your thoughts turning crooked;
Your eyes going crossed
and trying to hook
and hold on to my face.
You were creeping me out,
not accepting my space
and exclaiming about
how you were going to fuck
my tiny brains out;
You’d not care if I want to
because it was bound
to happen.
You were talking mysogynist shit, disrespecting
the friendship we built
and the way we’re connecting,
all the things we’d been sharing
and destroying my trust
and my heart that was caring
for you.
…How much you made me feel the blues!
So bad that suddenly I knew
that if I stayed, I’d also lose
my self-respect
because of you.
And so I turned.
And so I grew.
With every step away from you.
I was so sad. And yes, I cried.
But I felt good at the same time.
Because of you I realized
I’m worth much more than what I thought.
I don’t depend on those who lie,
nor anybody else, for sure.

A poem by Pia Petersson
Photography by Pia Petersson

Lost Souls

 

Lost souls.
– I see so many.
Lost souls.
– I have lost a few already.
They once were friends
…or lovers
– never steady.
I tried to hold them, help them
but my hands could not embrace the water like the sea…
I felt the drops escaping through my fingers.
I panicked!
I was full of fear.
I watched them shoot towards the floor and splinter.
With every drop dropped dead the end of water in my hands was near.

Lost souls.
– I feel their heavy
lost souls
that they carry.
The weight that drowns them makes them weary,
sucks out their energy and turns them cold.
Lost souls.
– Their vision blurry.
The hopes and dreams they once envisioned buried.
Don’t want my help,
– I’m now the furry, massive monster that could break their walls.

Lost souls.
– I see so many.
Lost souls.
– I have lost a few already.
I can myself be one.
– I’m never steady.
But I can hold myself now; bring me peace.
Now, when I hear one’s drops escaping
and see them turning themselves enemies,
I let them go – don’t want to feel them hating.
Their fate’s not my responsibility.

Lost souls.
Once I was sad to see them leaving.
Moved by their change my heart was bleeding.
I tried to help – they turned away from me.
Lost souls.
I let them go now.
Best to leave them be.

 

 

A poem by Pia Petersson
Photography by Pia Petersson