Stepping down.

I’m stepping down from my teflon, bulletproof pride.
I want to be all that I can be for my family and my human, and I’ve realised that I can’t be that unless I tune down my pride and take a bullet or two from doing so.

If I were a man, someone would definitely had told me long ago to just man up, grow some balls and take the devil by the horns.
Or something similar…

But, I am a woman. A Mutant on…

View On WordPress

Mirrors unfold.

You’re staring at me.

I am.

You’re making me uncomfortable.

I am. 

Why are you staring at me?

I just am.

You’re freaking me out! 

Am I. 





“Oh” what?

Just, “oh”. 

You’re not normal, are you. 

I am. 

If you were, you wouldn’t be staring at me. 

How else would I stare, miss? 

You wouldn’t. 

I wouldn’t?

No, you wouldn’t. 

I see. 

So stop. 

If you say so, miss. 

Can you please go?


View On WordPress

Reality, suckerpunch.

My mom cried, because all the work dad has done, he now have to do it over again. She’s scared, because his blood pressure is high. Scared he might have a heart attack. My sister called to check how things are here. Always worried, worried about dad and of mom potentially being left on her own.

I never think about it, the future loss of my parents. I choose not to. It makes me cry, because I…

View On WordPress

Caterpillar curiosity.

Mutant Wahlqvist photoMutant Wahlqvist photo

Sometimes life gives us small portions of beauty. Small fragments of light through the thick and suffocating dark in which we wander. We can choose to pick it up and let it sit on our shoulders for a while. Carry it with us. Allow it to leave a trace of inner peace and temporary calm.

When it jumps down, we’re left with a warm print, engraved into our flesh as a fading memory of a pleasant…

View On WordPress

On my vessel I stand with the wind in my hair.

On my vessel I stand with the wind in my hair.

“The piano keys are black and white, but they sound like a million colors in my mind”
- Maria Christina Mena

Music can be beautiful. Hurtful. Even hateful. But when I go bed at night, alone, I need something to lure the sadness out of my system in order for me to sleep without nightmares.
So I turn to a man, a young composer who’s got more talent than any mainstream pop-pap moron has today. His…

View On WordPress



Circumstances shower down,
Hourglasses kindle,
Colors vividly draining wild,
A lot has come to wither,

Embodied tangled roses thorn,
Momentum starts in freedom,
Vows promised all so vile,
Hearts pumping thick with oil,

- Mutant

View On WordPress

Allow me to feel.

Now I know how a mutant is torn. 
Among words so dead, so pale and hollow. 
On pavement I sit, I mourn on my own. 
Numbed out. Now isn’t the time. 
I don’t long for that, but where do I turn when my words don’t belong?
Is there no support through a plausible tomorrow? 

Happy, merry, fucking thrilled I am for them. 
I know nothing of it and I’ll remain watching in from shadows.
Fighting demons as their…

View On WordPress

Stare through nightmares.

“See that light on the wall there, shining so still while everything else is just black..” 

Bad notes.
I hate it when nights end on a bad note. Last night did. I fell asleep after staring at the wall for two hours. 
It wasn’t supposed to end on a bad note, I just failed to keep the spark going when bad mood washed the good away. 
I didn’t specifically need the “spark” to stay fuzzy either, but…

View On WordPress



Because I have to.
Echoing drums of a beating heart.
Slowing down.

Ever since we fell,
We’ve fallen even more.
So cold, so weak.
So trapped in our own claws.

Our spawn keep growing.
Shelter them from all.
Evolution is at dawn.
We either stay or move along.

“Faith, hope, love”
Words cover all the jewelry.
To bring courage to our souls.
That once abandoned the scenery.

Freckled tiny…

View On WordPress