Figments of a Mania – Henna Sjöblom



I saw her in the dark of my eye

stretched out on a polyester blanket,

puffed-up cheeks and threads of pink bubblegum stuck to her hair
the /maggot-eaten/ stockings barely covering up the /cigarette burns/ along her legs
riffles trough the pages of the /holy/ bible, decides she doesn’t have time

patient may sometimes experience feelings of irritability,                   grandiosity, or an increase in sexual desires

I masturbated to the image that night
and called /my own/ name as I came, arrogant god that I am,
wrapped up in my own, gluttonous plane of existence
I would grab a stake and drive it trough my uterus
So that my guts would spill out, drenching your immobilized body
beneath me
and you would cry out /in bliss/
knowing the

true exemption

of being defeated

before I was holy, I used to know shame
I made up lists of people I /couldn’t/ touch
sanctimonious beacons of chastity

I later took pleasure
in tearing apart                  patient tends to be outgoing,

easily angered,
I defile
I find desirable

each day, my idols grow smaller

                                                     or could it be that I am growing bigger
It’s hard to see from inside the Taurus’s jaws
so I do as advised, save my apologies for another day
and succumb to the feeling
of walking on thin, crystal ice
waiting for the finned shadows
inevitably about to snatch me back to the depths
from which I arise,
the /drowned/ queen of the two-faced


[Murder Tramp Birthday, previously Malicia Frost, in real life known as Henna, a hobbyist writer and an aspiring novelist from Finland. She enjoys surrealism, sci-fi and horror, and her writing often deals with mental illness. More of her works can be found at her personal blog.]

48 thoughts on “Figments of a Mania – Henna Sjöblom

  1. Wow, I hope that one day I can be as viscerally real as you are in your work, Henna. This is amazing. I know I ascribe that moniker to most of your works. But I do find myself being lost in amazement when I read you. heartstoppingly powerful. Brava.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. You know what a huge fan I am of your work and you as a human being Henna. This is brilliant. The structure of this with the strikeouts really resonated for me. It so perfectfully captures my own internal experience of PTSD. No matter how completely decompensated I became, I never lost the detached voice of my inner clinician who was fascinated by my fall. N. Ian writes above that this piece is dark, rich and uncomfortable. It is, as is all your work, and it always speaks to that part of me that we are not supposed to mention in polite company but is grateful that you do.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. The counter-narrative (or alternative narrative) in strikethrough or as parentheticals, with the imagery, moves my mind toward Janus and the Roman Pantheon. I probably go there first because of my own fascination with that place in time. And with that particular god, the notion arises of endings that are also beginnings, and duplicities and seeming contradictions that are natural as anything else and unworthy of moral judgment. That internal image matches well for me, here.

    With, “before I was holy… my idols grow smaller,” I understand that the centers of our idolatry are perhaps too flawless. Maybe we’d do better with chipped, imperfect idols like the wonderfully flawed Roman gods—perhaps not. And exploring sexual fantasy as another form of idolization or idealization, you communicate well the inexplicable need to reduce the perception of a pedestaled person from “godlike” to “human”.

    Anyway, it’s dark. It’s rich. It’s uncomfortable. I like it.

    Liked by 3 people

    • Oh my, I don’t even know how to sufficiently respond to such an thoughtful critique. I’m most thankful. And I find it very interesting to hear how other people interpret my works. I don’t much like to dictate what a poem is “really” about, since it may mean something completely different to someone else, and neither is wrong. Every interpretation is just its own, I think. And as for this, there are many sources of inspiration. Events in the past and present. My struggle with bipolar disorder. Philosophical conversations I’ve had with friends, arguments I have in my head. And so on.
      Thank you so much for sharing your thoughts. It’s much appreciated. ❤

      Liked by 2 people

  4. It’s funny (as in strange) as to why something written like this doesn’t blow up with a ton of comments, but then again, David lynch is a master story teller and doesn’t get much either. You’re dark and I love it. But you already knew that.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s