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Feb 21 · 28
Outsider Feb 21
We do
as society wants us to.
Whatever it takes
just to fit in.
What happened to freedom of speech?
And our right to express ourselves?
By law,
you´re allowed.
But still,
society keeps a tight grip around our necks.
Like puppets,
we are controlled,
into becoming as one.
Instead of our own.
Feb 10 · 61
Outsider Feb 10
I wanted you.
But not in a sugary way.
I didn’t want the holding hands,
or the sweet kisses in public.
The fancy restaurant dinners,
or the flowers on valentine’s day.
You see, there´s a different between ****, and love.
I didn’t think that I needed you.
Not in that intimate,
warm, comforting way.
But on those days,
when loneliness
creeps upon me,
I feel your absence.
I nearly got a taste of you.
But you slipped like sand through my fingers.
And now,
I think,
I might have wanted you
a lot more,
than I thought I did.
Feb 5 · 184
Outsider Feb 5
My head tackled down,
viewing at the ground.
I dare not lift my expression,
as your eyes may meet mine.
It´s not that you don’t catch my interest.
Have faith in me when I say this.
But my eyes are the window to my soul.
I´m scared to show you, how badly I am wounded.
One look at me, and you will see, that I am damaged.
I am broken, and I am torn.
Ripped from joy, from happiness and from pleasure.
Your look pierce through my senses.
I tremble, with every single nerve in my body.
Frightened, that you might see who I really am.
It hurts me to expose all these wounds,
that I attempt so desperately to stitch.
I try, but I am too fearful to display myself so openly.
The wall of protection that I have built for myself is withering.
Lay your eyes on mine, and I will crumble.
For I have been strong for too long.
One taste of intimacy,
has me uncluttered, like the work of a world-famous artist,
exhibited for everyone to see.
And that, I am not ready for.
Feb 5 · 241
Outsider Feb 5
The force of his look, swept my mind for consciousness.
His sweet touch made my soul tremble.
Caressing my skin with his poisonous tongue
that drove me to madness.
The whisperers of empty promises, that I believed.
Lingering in the air, even after he´s gone.

I´d die for many loved ones.
But for you, I´d live.
You captivated my soul, then ran away with it.
Could I please have it back?
Since I no longer can have
Jan 18 · 168
Outsider Jan 18
Like a prisoner of the past.
Unable to let go.
We like the things that are certain.
It´s easy for us to think,
that nothing can ever be good again.
Because we despise change.
We fool ourselves
to think that everything that we´re used to,
is good for us.
We chain ourselves to the invisible bed
that whispers in all the right tunes.
Tunes that we think we want to hear.
We don´t know better than to listen,
to the safe whispers of the only things
we know are certain.
Why do we listen to the whispers?
Telling us to come closer.
As we trust, in the masked whispers,
we get bitten.
And we bleed.
Yet, we stitch our wounds,
as we lay in the bed,
that we think we deserve to sleep in.
Jan 14 · 330
Outsider Jan 14
A knife to my heart.
I stand as I contemplate, whether I want this
or not.
The sharp blade, lightly caressing my skin,
before puncturing through.
There´s no pain that I haven´t felt.
I´m not giving up,
I´m letting go.
I´m letting go of all the sorrows,
that follows me everywhere I turn.
No substance can distract me,
from falling in love with the blade in my hand.
I used to think it did.
Those days are over.
No love can stop me from bleeding.
No promises can heal my scars.
As I bleed myself dry,
I get this feeling.
I´m finally free.
Jan 7 · 56
Slaves to the Society
Outsider Jan 7
We are slaves to the society.
There is no real purpose in life.
It´s made up by the society, so that we can be lured into thinking that we have to settle down with the
same ****
And if you do the most harmless "crime",
you will be punished for it.
We are shaped into believing that a spontaneous living
is the worst way of living.
We all dream of a perfect life.
And we hate ourselves, everyday
for not being able to achieve it.
All this because
of showing society the true form of the human species.
But we are the society.
So **** us all!
Jan 7 · 138
Outsider Jan 7
One touch.
Light as a feather.
Yet, a grip as powerful as steel.
The hands around my neck.
The thoughts that never leave my head.

How can the feeling,
of just a simple thought,
be so desiring, yet so deterring.
It´s something I want,
That I can never have.
Like the glimpse of sun rays in the darkest winter day.
That warm feeling, that so rarely occurs.  

I search, but I never find.
Because good is gone.
Lost, like my favorite pair of lingerie.
Whatever about that, that made me feel so good about myself,
even though I knew,
it never mattered.

— The End —