5 4 3 2 1 (Extended)
(2025- Performance)

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They say the pen is mightier than the sword,

but it seems useless to bring one to a fight

When i sit in the dark, stargazing, i like to find constellations and wonder who called them by their names for the first time

The names they have here and now come all the way from ancient greece

Did their government have a starnaming committee

Or were they found by philosophers telling eachother drunken stories?

Maybe instead it was a lovely witch in the woods, a floater, finding solace in the patterns

Like i do

But there doesn't seem to be much space in the universe for women, unless you're a virgin or married to the boss

The stars seem to be stuck in the past that way

The light of feminism hasn't reached them yet

Bringing a pen to a swordfight,

always seems to come with sacrifices

In the sky, where planes pretend to be falling stars, te closest planet is named after the ancient god of war

It's bloodred colour interpreted as hostile instead of warm

Like the only reason for a campfire is to burn down the village

How did we get here?

Mars, pictured in armor

Ready to fight

Ready to stab you with his sword

In the name of peace

You don't bring a pen to a swordfight,

unless it's for writing down your last words

When david bowie sang

Is there any life on mars

Did he want to escape

Or did he ask if there is any life in anger

Is there any life in death

If you bring a pen to a swordfight,

make sure to bring a piece of paper too

Last words don't mean shit if nobody reads them

Ive been waiting for my old name to die for most of my adult life

It made me realise how much my body is owned by the law

Laws of nature

Laws of society

Laws of governments

Rules say I am not yet allowed to be the enemy

Only a freak on the inside

Only pretending to not bleed out once a month, with no proof

The poet is live from elected bodies

The poet is live from unelected bodies

I am just alive 

And the poet scares me

I am just alive

Like a wolf with breasts and no teeth

I want to be alive in the way that trees and birds are living, going wherever they want without a picture in a passport that looks like them

Instead i am still stuck in the motionless space 

between dreams and actualisation

Between possibilities and capability

Between screaming and silence

I wonder if there's a place in the stars where I don't need a sword to be heard

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I will wait