No words in you,
But something screams in me,
And there’s darkness,
There sadness,
There’s you,
But so little of me.
It’s like you feel the voids,
But then I am the void,
And there’s nothing to fill me up with.
No movement in me,
While you drift away,
How can I fucking make you stay?
PS: You left me all empty, how does that make you feel?
This world is too real,
Too cruel,
Too unsual.
More often than not I’m hurt,
suffering through broken toes,
biting my lips,
crippled spirit.
The most private thing I’m willing to admit
is that my love tastes like liquorice
combined with nasty bile
and it smells like lilies in full bloom.
Is there something else you’d like to know?
Or is the thought of me enough
to poison you?
Some dreams I dream them wide awake
Looking for smiles in the darkest corners,
Carrying your memory with me
Across the seas and mountains
I keep in my heart your kindness,
Laughter,
Love and care,
You were my best friend,
The only one who cared for me even when I didn’t deserve it.
So many words are minced,
swallowed before being tasted,
and feelings are broken before being felt,
and nothing tastes like summer
even though there are 40 degrees outside,
no wind in sight,
no love in mind,
and can we pretend we’re independent now?
So many things are lost in between
breaths that mean nothing,
so many weird dreams are broken before we even close our eyes,
and so many sunrises start before midnight,
only to die down at 2 am
when nothing good ever happens,
but cold hands,
and the awkwardest of hugs.
I can’t get well,
Everything in me is so deeply,
Deliciously,
Fanatically disturbed,
And all this life tastes like stupid lemonade
Made out of fake plastic lemons
With spoonfuls of sugar
Made out of my blood.
And everything is dripping light,
Horrendous light piercing my eyes,
And all the sounds are trouble.
I wonder if I’ll sleep tonight
Or dream of you and cuddle
The monsters that live in my belly,
Trying to claw their way out of me.
I’d love it if we made it,
This world of our is so complete,
Inside my head,
Between these old bones of mine,
I’d love it if we made it real.
Stop wasting time,
Stop wasting me away,
As I disintegrate in salty tears,
Irrational fears are eating me away.
I’d love it if we made it,
I’d be happy if we could just pretend to make it.
Fuck your feelings.
there are invisible threads from me to you,
connecting atoms, feelings, breaths of air.
there are invisible needs, or maybe wants from me to you,
and i don’t know how or when or if they’ll find their way back,
but it’s ok, because behind of all that threading, needing, and wanting
there is invisible scarring
just waiting to heal.