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.

When you got more tears behind you than ahead the little things become more painful.
The bigger stuff you’re used to already.
And when you’re tired everything seems useless again because the big fights are done.
You just want peace but the war is still inside.
You just want a good time but everything is dull. 😪😵

I used to be scared that people would forget me when I would die.
Now I’m scared that people will remember me for who I’ve become.
My journey in this world has been too long now.
And yet I’m not done.
💀😢💀😢💀

When everyday is such a struggle and you aren’t even happy but you dream….
Dream about living when you’re asleep. With good people around you.
And you don’t have to tell yourself anything to calm down.
Because everything is just happening without you having to suffer so much.
It just happens, you’re just there for the experience.
That’s what waking life should be too.

But sometimes the OCD will enter the dream.
And you still fight like while you’re awake.
Or you stress out because you have to go to class.
Even though you don’t go to school anymore.
Not at your waking state.
But these moments come and go.
And as long as the OCD doesn’t wake you up with thoughts it should be ok.

It’s better than the suffering while awake.
Cause it doesn’t work for you and you feel so bad about it.
It gets too much and you get stuck.
You don’t get stuck in dreams.
You float from one moment to the next.
But will you remember people and experiences if you would only ever dream?
Dreams are not like leaving the body completely, you just have a part of your brain shut down for a moment.

You can remember dreams.
Some details.
A lot of the time you remember the feeling.
A very true type of feeling that you can’t quite feel while awake.
So when everyday is a struggle you can dream free and be happy.

Life and death.
Words that we use.
A human life.
And dead body.
A plant, an animal, a creature.
Nature.
Human experience.
Experiencing dying, near death, loss, watching death/dying.
Saving life, killing.
It’s not so precious when you’re suffering constantly, don’t save me!
When I’m trying to survive I need the option to die.
But there’s no “right way to die”.
When it’s your time then you’ll leave.
Maybe that’s the only “right way”.
And maybe I won’t leave the way I would like.
I can only see it as an option which it is.
But I don’t think you should just act in crisis.
That’s not the time.
But it happens, just like other deaths that feel useless.
But it’s a journey that ends.

I’m late but I need to take my time.
Nothing goes smoothly.
Because I’m late and because of needing time.
Time to take it easy today.
Not pressuring myself even though I’m not getting where I want to be.
Trying to accept that…

I want much more.
I want to be at a messy party.
Small black dress, dark smudgy eyelids, stones on my neck, wild hair and face.
I’m not that “it-girl” that everybody follows because of her artsy aesthetic.
Perfectly captured, dusky old scene, old looking places.
Young, skinny, bold, dreamy eyes, stained lips smile.

Playing the right music.
Playing in some apartments with silly unmatched objects inside.
Always “out of it”.
Always seeming unbothered.
Or passionately craving, emotionally unstable.

Am I too late?
Am I too bothered, captured by the grasps of this world?
Too much to untangle…
I can have my moments of freedom.
But to get there I’m too late a lot.
I need time.
But I’m late already, always.