Sometimes I feel like I'm so complicated
I can't even figure myself out
and other times
I feel so basic it is obvious.

The feeling of your lips on mine
moving in synch to the music
slurred words
I cannot remember
laughter and tears
caused by forgotten actions
waking up
the next morning
feeling like
it wasn't me.

Life is like Ikea,
Feels like it will never end,
But when it does,
It is too late.

A labyrinth you enter,
Beds and pillows guide the way,
Seems so cynical and perfect,
Still the hassle lies within.

It begins as an endless curiosity,
Soon trivially you follow the lines,
The excitement slowly fades,
It just has to be done.

It is too late to know
what it could have been
Like sand slipping through
The gaps between your fingers
Slowly running out

Time doesn’t turn
Actions pave the way
Speaking louder than words
Only thoughts are left
What if?

The unrealistic expectations
That were never fully explored
Create ridges of regret
That cannot be filled
It is too late

Is it faith speaking
Or purely the soothing words
Wanted to be heard
Acting as nothing
But comfort

In all confusion
There is something to be said
Something to be done
And another perspective
Waiting to be explored

Stopped responding
I let it go
Hoping that someday
You would come wandering

Nothing in my favour
Things moved on
Confiding in the future  
It was gone

Glimpses of you
Made me believe
That there still was a chance
I guess I was wrong

You made a statement
Yet defriending does not remove
I still exist
In both memory and you

Left to my own thoughts
What did I do wrong
Was it me
Or has someone else come along?

Not everything is sad,
Yet it's usually what poetry expresses,
But if you look beside it,
There is a world full of successes.

Stay awake
No time for flinching
Do not be afraid
Pressure is on
There is nothing to do

A life intruder
Silent disturbance
Chaos occurs
In the blink of an eye
There is nothing to do

Life draining yet peaceful
Competing to survive
Trembling words
A ground of guilt
There is nothing to do

Efficiently disappearing
Walls so high
An imaginary escape
Bruises of pushes
There is nothing to do

I want to get to know him
or at least explore
what it could lead to
but I'm afraid
hindered by the past
being in love with the idea
my illusions.