You can’t compare yourself
With the unbroken girls
Surrounding you
You already shattered
Creating
A new form
Of beautiful

-jt

So tell me why I feel so alone
In a world full of 8 billion people,
And why music is the only thing
That rests my soul

i used hate the way i would be awake at four in the morning.
i remember the way everything used to feel so haunting and scary.
there were no words to describe how deep inside my mind i would sink into,
scared and afraid of no return.

but now,
oh now,
i love it.
i fell in love with the quiet.
there was no more worry or fear.

First, the tears.

They build up and up and up,
Never falling, not just yet.

You stop breathing.

You start gasping for air,
The poison in your lungs, your head,
Making your head spin in all directions.

And, if you try to stop,
You end up making it worse.

Calm down.
Breathe.

But in order to calm down you must write,
And to write you must calm down,
The entire paradox
Sending your head swirling.

Vision blurry,
You stop thinking clearly,
Less clear than before.

The world a huge kaleidoscope
Of sadness.

Every attempt to find what you lost
More desperate,
More unrealistic
Than the last.

Each rejection,
Each nonexistence
A greater blow
Than the last.

And suddenly,
You
Can't
Breathe
At All.

And you're crying yourself to sleep,
Trying to make up for what was lost,
To make amends.

But you know,
Deep down
You'll never be okay with it.

That loss defines you.

its always been a wonder to me,
what keeps everyone waking up every morning ?

what gets you out of bed?

what can be so strong
that overcomes the want to not exist .

or is it just me ?

He doesn't burn photographs
He doesn't join therapy sessions
He doesn't smoke too many cigarettes
Nor he drown himself into alcohol
He scratches his wounds daily
And never let them heal
He doesn't try to get rid of the pain
Instead he let it grow on him
He waters the seed of sorrow with his tears
He feeds it with the manure of old memories
He takes it to sleep with him
And nurtures it in himself
Till the moment when every single drop of his blood gets replaced by this pain
Until his fragile heart can bear no more
And his soul starts overflowing with emotions
That's when he dip his pen into this pain
And empty his heart on a piece of paper
He bares his soul for us to feel
He creates poetry that the world would cherish for centuries to come

do you have moments, where you can’t imagine a future?
you’re lying there, staring at the
same walls
same ceilings
same words
with nothing but the same feelings-
empty and pale,
like there’s no reason to go on,
when you can’t even do enough to fail.
the future is coming, but you don’t want to be in it,
can’t imagine yourself in it.
where you just want to stop.
everything.
and just sit there for a while.
maybe not death, as that’s too permanent,
but something close to it.
when you can feel the rope around your neck,
the razor on your wrist,
the way the pills taste.
you can imagine it, and you aren’t sure if it’s what you want,
or just the feelings you imagine it will give you

sleepless nights
after summer days
frequent sights
of the sun's early haze
and woe is me
for my strength is retired
every night is the same as the next will be
going to sleep shouldn't be hard when you're this tired


© L.F.

It’s the kind of sadness where your rib cage
Contorts
And twists and
Snaps.

Depression doesn’t float through my veins
It crawls through my bones, with dagger hands
And winding movements.

I cannot breathe.

And yet there was nothing taken from me.