Would you understand a feeling you never felt?
There are different types of sadness
Multiple reasons to shed a tear
Uncountable causes to flush into sobs
And still you want to know, you would like to understand
But even if you did, you would not
You are not in my head
And thus you find it easy for me to run away from a monster
The monster is a tick
It plunges it's way through your brains, parasite
Eating your nerves from the inside out
Till you don't feel anything anymore
A slap on the face is a poke on the shoulder
Sweet words taste like sand paper, just like another thousand curses
Sand paper, cardboard
You could crush my head between two rocks
Bath in the midst of my red blood
And still I would laugh at you
Not a genuine laugh
A static laugh, lifeless
My blood would giggle
My smashed eyes would stutter
My teeth would dance in a circle
And my scorched lungs
Would squeak and squeak
Till both of your ears go numb.  

The monster still hides beneath a pile of broken bones
Lift one here, another there
The world stops spinning
As you narrow your eyes against the glare

I eat my feelings in a spoonful of concentrated milk
Powdered milk
A pound of peanut butter
A bit of butter and sugar
Sugar, sweet sugar
Binge binge binge
Till my eyes become wet
"Eyorgasm" from food I collect
In my belly they move, they dance
Jibble, dribble, floppy cheeks
Sadness, deep as the hole I scrunched in the sand years ago
Repentance creeping throughout bread crumbs glazed atop shaky fingers
Glaze, pastries, oily eyelashes trembling, drizzling wet puddles of salt
Drowning, me, sorrows into the ocean I've become
Drowning, still, incomplete, a worm, floating in and out of my ears
From right to left, right to left, right left, left, left, right, left and then
Lighting strikes ten thousand miles from another sphere
Half of a worm gets stuck in the rear
Realisation (Trak! Poom! Pow!)
Je suis une pomme pourrie

Sad and then not
Happy and then not
Lots of nots
I'm starting to rot
Not is the nothingness that has crept in my heart
Squeezing every blood vessel, bubbling bubbling red hot sauce
Scream scream, in the head
Skull cracks, knuckles of steel
Tasteless tongue like putrid meal
Melancholia , jungles of sorrows
Nothing nothing comes out of the window
Two windows once big and bright
No sun has shone through them since dusk
Dull and dull they start to fade
Their shutters are no longer solid to hold
They break and break and still they stand
On a hair as thin as thin string hair
Look through these holes and you will see
The not, vacant, blue empty sea
Of a fisher who had once believed in his dreams
And caught a thousand fish, fish fishing spree.