To be human,
Means to Win,
Only to loose.

I want to stab my chest.
let the pressure hiss out like steam.
It’s lived here too long,

The same pressure
I've felt lying in this same bed,
staring through this same window,
with these same thoughts
in this same body
no matter how many times I beg it to leave

I want to stab my chest.
Cut out the rot of
never good enough,
of sorry for existing,
of always the one who ruins everything.

I want it gone
The weight.
The silence.
The drowning
The constant need to earn my right to breathe.

stabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabsta­bstabstab
stabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabsta­bstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstab­stabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabs­tabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabstabst­abstabstabstab
sunk.

But I don't stab.
I just lie here
again
and the window doesn’t say a thing.

This user is loosing interest in everything
like tabs left open, forgotten, buffering.
Notifications blink like dying stars,
but none are worth the effort of looking.

Conversations feel like code
written in languages I unlearned.
but mean none of them.

Even the mirror loads too slowly,
and when it does,
the face looks like someone
mid-update,
stuck.

The days autoplay.
The nights glitch.
And somewhere in the background,
I hear the soft hum
of systems shutting down.

I always thought there were two kinds of love,
The kind you’d die for
The kind you’d **** for.

But you my love,
Is the kind of love to live for,
A world without you,
Is a world left to rot.

My soul ached,
ached for something that wasn't there,
fragments of sanity,
or something left,
anything

but my hands just tore through air,
nothing—
nothing—
nothing to hold,
no real thing left to touch.
Was it real?

Time doesn’t tick anymore,
it just rots in the corners,
empty hours I can't fill
with anything that feels real.

faces I know,
but don't
eyes that stare and don’t care, (must they care?)
lips that move,
but nothing comes out.

The stars shine
but I don’t see it.
I stand there waiting
for something to make sense,
but nothing ever does,
nothing will.

I tried to die,
but I just ended up
standing here,
an echo of life
waiting to vanish.

I like pizza,
No I love pizza,
More thank anything,
anyone.

I think about it obsessively,
Dreaming of it,
Praying for it,
Craving for it.

This isn't about pizza

I just want a day,
where it doesn’t feel like i'm falling apart anymore,
A day i feel completely okay
But such a day will never exist,
Will it?

Writers hurt,
In a way no one can hurt
We dont cry,
We bleed on paper.

And i will forever bleed on paper,
Everyday;
For the rest of
My years.

But I let the same problems steal these tears,
It’s not a choice,
I’m tired every day.

I just want a day.
where it doesn’t feel like i'm falling apart anymore,
A day.