As the call ended
So did we
Between our phones
Not only the connection broke
But also the hearts,
that were connected as well

i feel scared.
i don't know why.

It's a bad dream
the feeling of being stuck
inside a latex suit
pushing to get out
in all restricting more
impossible to break free

that's my reality

you invited me to dinner, lovingly.

a lavishing one.

excited we both are.

you asked to go to the restroom.

i agreed and waited patiently.

knowing we have the most delicious steak being made and i’m excited to eat it together with you.

but you went through the window of the restroom and never came back.

here i am waiting, patiently, lovingly.

is it not clear??

probably not.

that's my fault.

sorry.

Absence is a strange occurence,
a shapeshifter manifesting
in the most trivial things.
A presence where there is none.
Something never entirely gone.

It's all getting so mess. everything.
I hate the fact that my sun is hiding behind the dark clouds.
My dearest beautiful sun.

Imma punch all of the sinner.
They were so mean.
There are so many trash within their mouth.
They mocked my sun thus making my sun keep on thinking that it's shine not good enough.

I wish that they could see this.
I wish that they could feeling the sadness tho.

I don't think anyone really understands how tiring it is to "act okay" and "always be strong" when in reality, you're so close to the edge

"winter is coming" they said.
"agree" i replied, 'cause i started overthinking about relationships with my friends and understood that i have not lots of friends to trust that i used to believe and it's fine. it's better to live when scales are fallen from the eyes.

Each
Day
I
Pray
To slay
My depression.
Never been a quitter,
But I’d like to quit this obsession.
This obsession with my sadness.
And with my social status.
It’s like I fetishize the madness
Endlessly raging
Inside of my soul.
And I swear I don’t have
A place to just go
And lay low
For a while.

A place where I don’t
Have
To
Fake
A
Smile.

Writing is
my escapism,
It's as if
I was a director
in a movie,
creating stories
with the flick of
a finger,
changing meaning
and stirring
emotions into
a beautiful mess
of felt daydreams
Erasing mistakes in
a matter of seconds,
feeling the
sense of mixed relief
and inspiration.

...But I can't live in
my stories.
Because alas,
everything in life
never lives up to
my expectations.

sensation,
arrested in the madness of its 'own' observation,
unpronounced,
as displayed tongue cutting 'it' Knows,
Is a lost declaration.'

fly me from atlanta to
miami

hurry up
fast

don't make me
wait
you ain't
tizzop

You think I'm isolated and alone.
Weak.
But I'm gathering my people.
They built me up, and stand beside me.
Arms linked, so you cannot knock me down.

remember to never ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever
ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever ever

compare yourself

I’ll stop you right there
I’ve heard quite enough
I don’t like people who act all big and tough,
Because I know deep down you resent yourself and I can see why
If I was born and looked like you I’d surely just cry,
For the rest of my life

Or I’d do us all a favour and jump of a bridge,
You’re a heart attack waiting to happen,
You’ve eaten half the fridge
I detest
And despise
And I cover my eyes, to shield myself away from you and society why do you all behave this way
I’m not angry I’m dissappointed
Because this all could be avoided
If the world just listened to me, we would not have this problem
And as one dying planet we would live our last days in solemn

I love you 
          
          I love you 
  
                     I love you 
  
                                  I love you 
  
  
  
FLATLINE..........

if feeling could write,

if emotions could paint,

we'd all be drowning

in acrylic and ink

To look with eyes that don’t judge
But Love
I’m on it like crime
I check it every time

I sink my teeth
Into cotton candy clouds
Lick the sweet crystals of sunset
Off my fingertips

Lips dusted with light
I savor this day

I wonder at the depth of the soul and does it ever end
is it like a card you buy but then you never send?
Does it just sit in there hidden and waiting to fly
or is it sitting in there simply waiting to die?
It is a puzzle for all who believe they have one
but better to wonder each day then have none.

What a rotten time to fall in love.
When I'm on the brink of tragedy,
On the edge of something so insurmountable that
I can't even contain it in both outstretched, weak, aching arms.
When I'm so close to the capstone of calamity that I can taste
The wreck on my tongue as it rains down my face.
I'm a goner.
The cataclysm that all good poetry is known for-
I am drowning on the words before they reach you-
I asphyxiate on the dark after you fall asleep.
Steady, lulled into a composition of notes and gasps.
I wonder if you know what I'm thinking about
When you wrap your hand around my throat.
I want to be the kind of person that your love deserves.
I just want to be the kind of person who isn't dripping with
Grief.
I'll find a sermon in every word you speak,
I'll chant it like prayer,
With my hands clasped to my chest in some
Frenzied, violent attempt to swear to God.
There is no reply.
Just your hand on my skin-
Less like touch and more like collision.
Please, stay. I'm begging now. I'm on my knees.
How do I look?
Do I look as pathetic as I feel?
I sink into the sadness but you're still holding my hand.
I don't speak, I overflow.
I don't love, I anesthetize.
I am destroying myself and you won't turn your head away.
Like a car crash. Like a collision. Like your hand around my throat.
I am paralyzed with a fear that God can't hear me.
"I love you" and I suffocate on the silence.
"I love you" and I choke on the apology that follows.
"I love you" and I am so sorry.
“I love you, too.” and I take my first breath.

Because the earth’s round
Doesn’t mean it’s  having a ball.

Because waves crash
Doesn’t mean that they aren’t in control.

Because the sea is deep
Doesn’t mean that it’s thoughtful

Because land meets the sea
Doesn’t mean that they agree

Because you float my boat
Doesn’t make me the captain.

Once upon a time
Everything was fine,
Once upon a time,
Once upon a time.

If you could read my mind,
You’d see a thousand papers
Filled with broken poetries
And deadbeat proses
Full of woeful verses
With mournful pieces
Of unfinished stories
That are yet to be written
And failed to be spoken;
If you could read my mind,
You’d hear horrible screams
And earsplitting weeps
From shattered dreams,
Kept in a nasty notepad,
Scribbled on a bed
Of bloodstained words,
Ringing in my head.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the shadows
That lurk within me;
You’d hear the bellows,
Screeching the words
“I’m tired,”
“I’m a failure,”
“I’m stupid –”
I know it sounds stupid,
It’s pathetically foolish
And seems too *******.
If you could read my mind,
You’d feel the tears
I had ever failed to cry;
You’d see the people
That make the weak weaker;
You’d see the monsters
That consume my head;
You’d hear the hollers
That failed to be freed;
You’d see the heart
That still bleeds and bleeds.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see the face
I’ve failed to show back then,
The face I’ve faked back then.
If you could read my mind,
You’d see a character
I had ever failed to become
If you could read my mind,
You’d be able to read
A book you never wished
To touch and read,
But sometimes I still wish
Someone could read my mind.