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I want to bleed till I’m dry.
Never cry so hard again and just drown forever.

Be a corpse swallowed by the sand soaked by the rain.

Not like the sand that burned.
But let me crawl into the earth.

Walk through tunnels till I’m out.
Ready to fly, away from where my dead body lies deep.
I wanted to be dead at 26. I’m 32 now. Still want to be dead at 26. Even though I did learn, grow and experience a lot. I don’t like life and who I’ve become. 😢😞
I love to pretend that everything is fine.
Like a moment of silence, a dark corner, a song.
I see a painting of a woman crying.
Big drops.

I meet nice people when I sleep.
I go under the water.
I take things as they come.

Hidden behind grave stones I watch the people walking.
People losing everything being locked up in their prisons.

And the love and hope that keeps them going.
From a distance.

Love is traveling from one place to the next.
To where it belongs.
And it can never stay alive.

Only in death.
Everything is fine.

Like a moment of silence in the dark.
Like a song in your playlist that comes along telling you: it’s alright.
Forget about time.
Make time forget about you.
You don’t exist in time.
You died too many times.
You’re not living with time.
All the times you cried are not here where time has passed.
And you exist somewhere where there’s no time left.
Time is just dead.
But you exist.

These are the cards you are dealt today.
Never easy.
Always trying hard to find a way to deal with them.

Same cards keep coming back.
You can’t get rid of them.
Some you will be able to throw away, some you only get sometimes and then they disappear again for a while.

What’s the end card? I wonder.
You can only see the cards revealing this world and not what’s next.

But what’s beyond can shine through these cards and you can get a glimpse of your purpose.
Your intense longing for something that’s not here.

They show you yourself, your life and battles in that day.
You recognize some of them too much and some are new.

There are rules to this card-game I feel:
-Don’t think you deserve better cards.
-Don’t take your cards for granted.
-Don’t take the easy way out.
-Do have patience if you can.
-Take breaks if possible.
-Don’t take it too seriously.
-Anything can happen, is possible.
Tired in a cherry world.
I’m running down the lane, across the hallway and the fluffy walls.
Sorry but I missed the train.
I’m tired and I can’t see where I’m going.
But I also can’t sleep.
I’m uncomfortable so I went to this cherry land.

There’s no other place where I can stay.
And I’m still running but in a cherry place.
I think I might be here for a little while.
Cherry cheeks and cherry beer.
Cherry lips of course…
Rainbows, raining cherries.
And some clouds in the sky, so light and pink.

I wish I was light in myself.
No feeling heavy inside.
That’s why I leave to the cherry tree.
To lie down but I’m not comfortable at all.
So I get up and run and eat a bun with sweet cinnamon.

**** me and let me bleed cherry.
Thick sweet cherry colored fluid from inside, let me fall, let it rain, cherry blood.
The stains will never be washed away.
Easter is coming.
And I’m painting the eggs.
Cherry red in a fluffy basket.
Safely tucked in.
They won’t crack easily.

Unless you throw them and they splash.
Cherry liquid love.
They spread it over the sea.
And the Easter bunny is swimming.

Floating like a cherry in the lemonade pool, the tank with taps that lead to the can.
The can full of cherry liquor and cream.
I’m dressed in black with dark cherry stains.
Stamping on the cherries.

But I cut my feet, from the egg shells, the dyed chick’s eggs, died like me.
Died, dead, cherry, red.
Cause they got smashed.

And I was tired of being cracked and crying, cherry colored.
Waves of pain, witches that float, that see too many things through cherry seas.

And in the end after only hearing that SHE was the problem.
She could be nothing else.
And she also kept having problems no matter what she did.
No matter where she went and with whom.
So she became the problem while also having problems constantly.
Some problems worse that others.
In the end she got so tired of them and tired of being the problem.

She didn’t know how to ever get out of this cycle and overcoming the problems she kept on having.
They were there when she wanted to rest and they were there when she wanted to do something.

Even when she closed her eyes, covered her ears, cried.
Most of the time.
But she did have background music to play.
And danced to it, ran and sang.
She had some pretty great friends and her close family grew with her into people of knowledge.

Her friends as well, they all got wiser.
But they also had their battles.
And now that she has really become the problem she found herself unworthy, like a burden most of the time, she was still having these issues.

While she had many things that other people didn’t, that SHE didn’t have before.
But now she was still having problems being the problem.
And there was nothing left to see, nothing other than the problems and the problem.
The problem is her.
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