Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2019 · 135
Outsider Oct 2019
The future is unseen.
Yet you can choose, how you want it to unravel.
I have a choice to make, that can change
my very future,
I choose not to. Because I like it
as it is.
Yet, the future did change.
And it keeps changing.
I lost control after all.
May 2019 · 160
Outsider May 2019
it is so ******* dumb
to keep going back
and back again
to the things
that hurts
us most
we find
roads back
and back again
to whatever hurt
because it is better
to be hurt than alone
May 2019 · 2.0k
Suicide note
Outsider May 2019
Pain used to inspire me to write.
Words would flow easily through my fingers,
substituting my tears.
I used to draw my pain. I painted my canvas with feelings,
and emotions, that words could not express.
If things started to feel hopeless, music was my saviour.
I would write lyrics, amplifying the words with sad tunes,
spilling my deepest, darkest thoughts.
But now, the pain is so strong, it is all I can think of.
My thighs are covered in scars,
from when the pain got so bad, that I needed to bleed it out.
Now, I realize, that I have drained myself.
There´s no tears, no words, no paint, no blood
to spill.
I hope that whoever can relate to this, keeps on going. Don´t give up, even if it feels hopeless. There´s always a way out. Suicide does not have to be one of them.
Apr 2019 · 93
forgiveness is strenght
Outsider Apr 2019
You stab me in the back.
And then you beg for forgiveness.
And I forgive, but I never forget.
Cause if you look closely,
you will see, all the scars
from before.
Down on your knees, you´re so sorry.
Begging, for forgiveness.
As you mistake my kindness for weakness,
you stab, again and again.
Until you think, that you need not ask,
for me to forgive.
And this is when I know,
that you´re not worth my while.
As my wounds heal, I become stronger.
While you, grow weak.
Outsider Apr 2019
I wear my heart on my sleeves.
As in the cuts that bleed.
Where everyone can see that I´m damaged.
How I´m broken,
to pieces.
One can never fully recover.
As my cuts turn to scars,
my sleeves will still,
never be the same.
As the same for my heart.
Mar 2019 · 468
Outsider Mar 2019
My pulse is raising.
Sweat appears in my palms.
My fingertips are turning ice cold.
And so, follows the rest of my body.

I keep asking myself why?
But I can never seem to settle on a proper answer.
It´s an unlike pain,
that doesn´t physically hurt.

An immense trembling
that touches every nerve,
of my wrecked system.
It´s something that I can never understand.

I cannot quite grasp,
what my body is trying to tell me.
I´m forcing myself to insanity.
Feb 2019 · 138
Outsider Feb 2019
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 2019 · 178
Outsider Feb 2019
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 lust, 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 2019 · 416
Outsider Feb 2019
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 2019 · 839
Outsider Feb 2019
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 2019 · 750
Outsider Jan 2019
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 2019 · 403
Outsider Jan 2019
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 2019 · 137
Slaves to the Society
Outsider Jan 2019
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 2019 · 332
Outsider Jan 2019
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 —