surfing through the head of John Malkovich

'this town is so grey', he says
and wonders
where I would go

I close my eyes
and smile
as it tickles
my whole body

the endless things
he doesn't know

inside my head
hundreds and thousands of
little colorful fishes

get drunk with me when the apocalypse comes

if I would live my life
as if today would be
the last day on earth

trust me

this would
actually be
my last day on earth

now or never

I wish you
to leave your childhood town
and never return

jeopardise and stand face to face
with life itself

I wish you to
leave your toothbrush
on the basin

just fucking leave
and get a new one

in a corner shop
miles away
from home

the jackdaw woman

deep red morning
like maroon cherries or candy apple blood
I needed his arms
like I need nightmares
a reason to scream
until my voice breaks
filled with an
insatiable hunger for desire
a chronic state of armageddon love
counted on six fingers
out of five
there are wolves out there
and then there are men
men mad enough
to try to feed
the jackdaw woman
with a blue-sky nest
the black error flying over the sky
let's get away for a while
I mean it
beyond corruption and wastelands
collarbones and waistlines
beyond
walls built on poetry
beyond
this foundation of imaginations
(never make a home
in a restless body)
wounds of wanderlust around my wrists
I have a plan
a secret revolution
between putting on this nail polish
and finishing this coffee
a plan to free myself
from you but with you
tongues tied together
by a silk ribbon
free-falling
in your arms
if you let me
see, my heart is
an emotional gold digger
and I got a plan
a plan to get out
a secret revolution
once my nails are deep red enough
and this caffeine
has been drunk

beauty ideals

at what point
did I start thinking

that beauty is

everything I can't be

as if
we have to change
our every bone
to be good enough

as if
what makes me the one I am
isn't the reason
I'm here

no

why is just existing
as a woman
the most powerful revolution
in itself

letting hair grow, letting skin breath
putting on nothing for no one

I wish to think less about
the kind of pretty
I was taught to imitate

and more about 
the kind of beauty
that can only be mine

patience

I would lie in bed
in a quiet trance
hide my phone
under pillows
stare at the ceiling
stare and wait
hands placed
horisontally
lie still
for hours
meditate on
his name
tell myself that
if I can stay
wide-awake
another night
without calling
it will
eventually end
all this waiting
he will
eventually
come back

meeting you

meeting you
meant writing
hundreds of poems
in devastation
without even
noticing it

for Essaouira

my mother raised me
with fire in my belly

so when I meet the sea
big and endless 
something happens in me
my whole body shakes
my soul wakes
to the salt on my skin

all this time
the men in my life
have misunderstood

I don't love the sea
because it cools me down
because it soothes me

I love the sea
because at night
the waves roar loud
like the fire in me

so listen to me carefully
if you wish us

the sea doesn't drown me - instead it keeps me hungering

wanting
roaring
yearning

without
apologies 

riot girl

maybe it's written
in the stars
that we shouldn't
be together

but as a riot girl

I think that's
just another challenge

I dreamt I was sweet

I dreamt I was sweet
like Lombardic queens
with amaretto kisses
lost and loved
swayed in arms
but the earth is a wound
which I'm poured into
like salt that burns
burns and melts
to make it better
time is the key
eventually, we will be
praying, changing, knowing
slowly growing
but until then
I dreamt I was sweet
sugar between teeth
lost and loved
like a Lombardic queen
in a crimson dress

misunderstood genius

never try to love and take care of
a misunderstood genius

see, the more you understand him
the less misunderstood he is

and left is
eventually
just another
average, normal man

when I love again

I find myself looking in the other end for things
for a meaningful minute
a meaningful talk

when I love again
I want his heart to reflect my light
not miscarry it

he will be a lighthouse
because I am
because he is

when I love again
I want him to love himself first

and I want him to place his hands on my soul
before he places them
around my waist
or between my legs

when he enters
I don't want to feel
he's a guest in my body
but instead
a part of me
that finally returned home

three split tongue

my mouth carries three tongues

I dream in Hungarian
think in Swedish
and fuck in English

if I'm silent, darling
it's never because
I have nothing to say

see, my tongues are my weapons

if I'm silent
it just means
you are not worth
loading my guns for

sugar pills

we can trick our minds into anything
if we are convincing enough

fool each other
in and out of love

we make the rules
then forget how to break them

this is the danger
of being within four walls
with one man
for too long

him and me
and our fucking
good rhetorics

everything we did
was just a nocebo effect

we were like sugar pills
overdosed into suicide

your room

there is a room in my heart
where I used to keep you
nowadays
you are missing
you are somewhere else
but your room
is still here
and I still enter it sometimes
even though
it makes no sense
(that it survives without you)
I stand in the door
stare into the empty space
looking for you

life

lose yourself
find yourself
lose yourself
find yourself

repeat until end

erotic war

he calls me
by two names

either a saint
or a whore

hearing my fantasies
stretch further

now that's a secret
worth killing for

to reply or not to reply

sometimes a well-written metaphor
says more than a hundred words

I stare ceilings
I count seconds
my mind is blank
my heart is emptied

sometimes silence says more
than a hundred
well-written metaphors

choose side

she tells me
there are only
two types
of women:

feminists
and
masochists

forbidden fruit

don't tell me
what I should stay away from

all you're doing
is putting perfectly fit ideas
in my head

romance is dead

I can't say "I do"
while there are still
so many others
I want to do

in love with a poet

in the morning
he gets out of bed
and walks over to the desk
half-naked, half-awake
he leans over the paper
where he wrote the words
straight from his dreams last night
is it a poem, he wonders
that will survive the daylight?

I roll over and
open my eyes
looking at him, he looks at me
we have nothing to say
so without a word
he goes out to the kitchen

I'm sure he knows
that only a few seconds later
I crawl out of bed
sneak up silently to his scribbles
and read his words
carefully

in those lines
I find all his beauty
just like that
in those lines
him and me are
understood
connected
united

in his poetry
we are together
and between the lines
we share the whole wide world

this is the closest I've come to love

but in reality
he is still in the kitchen
and I am still in his dreams
and we are just two mortal bodies
spaces apart
that have nothing
to say to each other

the return from Morocco

cheap-ass flight
but still a first class view

thank you beautiful days
thank you surprises
thank you warmth

now returning to Budapest
where things will be the same
but get a new meaning
my walls will get filled
with new stories

he told me to save the heat
but I don't think it can be lost

there is endless space in us
for energies, for love
and we might run low
but we can't run out
not really
just rest and reproduce

a new place has been added to my list of homes in this world

so here's a message
to every street and every person
whose name I've carved
into my existence

you are all home to me
and none of you
exclude the other

dreamcatcher

my dreams aren't synthetic
and my dreams aren't staged

this is the problem, dear

my dreams are just
as real and intense
as my reality

memoir

shouldn't we justspeak our hearts at all timeslet the truth play tricks
throw the cards down

what is the purpose
of feeling butterfies in his name
but hiding them in my stomach

these freakin' butterflies
one day, in the distant future
I will tell the story of 
how extremely in love I was
with him
and him and her and him
I will write it
all over my memoir
names of all those
who never found out how
madly in love I was

freakin' butterflies

maybe it will be my last words
as they are lying
on their deathbeds

I was so in love with you, I will say

hopefully leave
a confused smile on their face

the most natural thing in the world

always been told

to put passion behind bars

like it's a precious, terrifying thing

like it's a tiger about to be extinct

love is not

a dying energy

feelings don't run out

like milk or sugar

empty the jar - and there you are

emotionless

been taught not to

let the heart expand

as if it might burst

as if there isn't enough space

'freedom' is worn out

but if you need it then use it

it's the only word

that fully justifies

this madness