Honestly, I am so sick of asking.
So tired of beginning.

Just for once, it'd be nice if things came to me instead of me having to run after them.

These people whom I only talk to if I try real hard.
Those friends that only want me if I do things for them.
Those grades that drop no matter my effort.

The moment I walk out of my bedroom, I smell the unmistakable odor of alcohol. I could pick this smell out of a hundred other smells, this one would always stick out. It’s not only alcohol though.  It’s the mix of a thousand cigarettes that have been put out in an empty beer bottle, and the vague savor of last night’s junk food. Probably pizza, but it could have been fries and I wouldn’t have known.

I’m trying to find a place on the kitchen counter where I can put my glass on. It takes some shoving dishes, but there it is, 4 inches of a dusted counter where I can pour myself a drink. I open the fridge, and try to find some juice in between the bottles of beer and cheap wine. Just as I’ve found the last bottle of apple juice, half empty and almost gone bad,  daddy comes out of his bedroom. His hair stood up as if he was Johnny Bravo, and if only the resemblance stopped there… Daddy stumbles his way to the couch and lets himself fall onto it with a loud ‘thud’. ‘Good morning princess.’ he says. ‘Good morning daddy,’ I reply. ‘Did you sleep well? And how is your head, does it still hurt?’. But it was like talking to a wall, daddy was already snoring on the couch, radiating so much alcohol that I could have gotten drunk just from standing there.

I always thought it was a wonder that our couch hadn’t collapsed yet. It was old, and had so much creaks in the leather you’d think it was a pattern. In the middle there was a dent, right in the place where daddy falls asleep. He’s actually way too tall to be lying on a couch that small, but it’s all that fit in his little mobile home. Right across it was an old big tv, which was only used to check the 8 pm weather, and put on his favorite music dvd. There was also a kind of fancy chair, but most times my brother already claimed it. When you lean back, there appears this little thing where you can lay your feet on.

I knew this chair must has come with the mobile home itself, it’s a pretty expensive chair. But with this chair taken too, all I can do is get a chair from our little square dining table to enjoy my apple juice as a 2pm breakfast.

See, I am an artist.
I wander through sentences and collect  words in the backpocket of my jeans.

See, I am an artist.
I use your salty tears to glue my stories together.

See, I am an artist.
I write with silver but it comes out red.

It seems as everything goes on, I stand still. The river keeps flowing, but I'm that dead fish that's stuck behind a rock. Believe me when I say, I am trying my hardest to swim again.

But it feels like everytime I think I'll be able to move again, another fish rushes by and reminds me of you. And there I am, stuck again behind that ******* rock.

The worst thing is, you've created this rock for me. We build it togheter. And while to the outsiders I pretend to be swimming again, the insiders just hang on with me.

Does she give you butterflies?
Has she given you a purpose to get out of bed again?
Did you burn yourself when you pushed it to hard?
When you pushed her to hard.

Maybe she didn't expect it
Maybe you should have given her signs, so she could brace herself
So she could armor herself from your overwhelming grace.
So she wouldn't have hurt you.

Did you really think I wouldn't notice?
The first day of school I knew this was going to happen.
That's the kind of effect she has on people.
So tell me,

Does she give you butterflies?

here I go, off to another journey .
off to one of the many pieces of the world, that I have yet to discover.

here I will make friends and enemies,
and i will wrestle myself trough yet another cocoon.
so that in 3 years,
I leave and my wings will have grown bigger.

I am ready

Daddy, why won't you talk to me?
Did I do something wrong?
Am I not worthy of your affection?
Is it because I still love my Mommy?
Or is it because I have said no to you for the first time, while you have said no to me  a thousand times before?
Maybe I am not smart enough...
Or not pretty enough...

Daddy please, why am I not good enough?
What did I say to make you hate me like that?
Can I make it up to you?
Can I see you, can I hug you ?
I haven't seen you in a while
We haven't spoken for a while
You stopped loving me since a while

Daddy I am done now
I won't ask you these things ever again
Because daddy I don't want to feel this anymore.
I will keep crying and hurting.
And I will never stop loving or caring.
But from now on, I will stop asking.

They say you photograph whatever you fear of losing.

I guess that's why I had to empty 80% of my Cameraroll as soon as you left.

And why you probably won't even have to delete anything at all.

many years ago, we met two of them.
they were very much alike, but not enough.
you said they'd change along.

but they did not, and you did.
got me stuck between them.
until we were very much alike, but not enough.
you said we'd change along.

but we did not.

***** glasses but a steady mind.
 No, really baby I don't mind.
We can take it slow, I can play it kind.
 I'm not what you crave for, but I sure am all you'll find.

Gentle kisses where you ache, I'll love you where you're bruised. Please don't worry about me, this aint the first time I've been used.

Look at me through your ***** glasses, so when you take em off I'm way up high. Let me hold you as the moment passes, Let me whisper this isn't good bye.

I'll be loving you, and you'll be loving her. But when it's feeling that we're counting, you'll see it as unfair, oh baby I'm sure.

False hope may be the worst kind of betrayal in the world.
Maybe because the person who caused it, most times doesn't even notice that.

The feeling you get when something good seems to happen, when things finally start to make sense. But then the directions turn and you are back at start, trying to solve a puzzle that's got pieces missing.

Today is the day, I lost my best friend.
Not to death, as you may think, but to america.
She has been my best friend and sister for more than 4 years now, and today is the day she stepped on a plain knowing she won't return within 10 months.
Now ofcourse I can text her I can Skype with her and stuff, but how is that ever the same?
How can I ever be the same without her, without our silly sleepovers and without our songwriting sessions?
How can your expect me to tell her what's wrong over the phone, when I am already having a hard time doing it face 2 face.
I can't, I really really can't.
So yeah today is the day I lost my bestfriend, and although it's 'just for 10 months' as she said.
For me it feels like forever.
And that's also for how long I will love and cherish her.
Forever

His hair has always been my weak point.
The way it flowed between my fingers.
The way I could bury my face in his neck and feel his soft curls tingle my cheeckbone.

He's once asked me; should I cut my hair?
And I responded; Ohh hell no! If you do that I'm gonna break up with you!

Well now he's broken up with me and I guess nothing was holding him back anymore.
It's gone now, the beautiful hair that pulled me in at first. The hair that made me go crazy all those times. It's gone just as much as he's gone.

And I know I'll never get it back.
I just started wondering whether I'd want it to.

how did it become that she was sad,
for his ache.
how did her legs move for his,
and her feet tremble.
just like her lightweighted heart,
whom felt heavy in her chest.
but like a feather stroking his.

how did she become his,
and just him too.
not even a person anymore,
just a vessel.
his vessel.
his mind.
over 2 bodies.

I wanna go home, but home walked away on 2 legs and blue Nikes.
I wanna go sleep, but now that I'm alone I don't know how
I wanna be warm, but warmth flew away, leaving me frozen
I wanna be safe, but the only one who gave me that, came right back at me making me feel hurt all over again.

I wanna go home I say, while laying in my bed. When even home doesn't feel like home anymore, where do I go to sleep? Where do I go to feel warm and safe?

I never knew it would be so hard, to explain a non-reader what reading a book feels like.

How am I supposed to tell him I'd rather live inside fantasy, than live my real life.

How is he  supposed to understand, that when I read a book I don't just read the story, I become the story.

I have been patient with you. I have been kind and forgiving with you. But do you care? No! All you do is whine about having nobody that cares.

And I will guarantee you if you keep going down this road, you will soon turn around and find nobody behind.
Especially not me. Because **** boy, you are good at pulling people in, and pushing them away as soon as they care.

But don't bother pushing me away, I'll save you the effort and leave all by myself.

If I were to lose my sight, I would want you to be my eyes for me.

Because I now, you'd be the only one who would find the right words to say.

I trust you to tell me how the water sparkled as I step into the sea.

I trust you to stand behind me and whisper in my ear, to describe your favorite moments to me.

After all I am just little redhead who owns a thousand words and has played a thousand strings.

I mean, how could I ever think that I'd really make a difference?

She was the one to tell me about the rules that the game included, about how to not only play but even win the game.

The so called game "Love"

She made me a list of tips and tricks.

1 the person you think about when you stand infront of the ocean,
is your true love.

2 the person you think about when it's 2 am and you are laying in bed,
is your true love.

3 the person you text when your mind is drunk and your eyes are drowned,
is your true love.

She did not go further than these 3, because most people playing were satisfied with only 1.

She told me to be careful and to be pacient, but she also told me to be very strict in handeling these tricks.

She watched me as I played and remained silent when needed, but after many waisted chances she walked up to me.

She asked me 'what's the matter, why aren't you winning?' the poor little thing did not know why her advices could not prevent me from failing.

She yelled and cried and did everything she could, until she finally gave up and left me with the words, 'I think you need to proceed the game without me'

She  left thinking that she would never return.

She must have found it weird to get my texts, but came as i asked her to.
'Why did you text me' she yelled to me.
'Because my mind is drunk and my eyes are drowned' I replied.
'Where are we' she asked me. ' Infront of the ocean' I answered.
'What time is it' she wondered  'Almost 2 am' I whispered.  

She slowly stepped towards me.
'Why didn't you try the game' she cried to me.'
And that's when I told her.
I told her 'Because I have already won it when I met you'

Ah,  how Lucy's hair waved in the wind,
leaving nothing but copper strings behind.

Ah, how Lucy's voice flew in between the hurricanes raindrops,
leaving nothing but the fague sound of an angelic ballad.

Ah,  how Lucy's hands would stroke the rose's thorns,
leaving nothing but a track of ****** fingerprints.

Ah, how Lucy's lips where always pouty,
leaving nothing but promising kisses behind.

Ah, how Lucy left.

my heart can't handle it.

my mind can't carry it.

my body can't survive it.

whilst,

his promises won't make it.

his words won't do it.

his feelings won't BE it.

My body,
is not flawless.
My wrists,
have little lines on it like ****** rivers.
My hair,
is a mess in where you can find my unspoken words when you untangle it.
My eyes,
have an undefined color and have seen things they should not have seen
My lips,
are pouty and will probably stay put on yours.
My body,
is not flawless.
But if you want it,
it will be yours.

Is it possible, that maybe I am just off beat?
Somehow, I always seem to fall behind.
I always miss out on the good things, get stuck in the bad things.

People always say; '' You know, a while ago I actually liked you. Not anymore tho. "
They tell me ; " At first I really wanted to friends with you, but things happened and I decided not to."


Without even knowing, people consider me.  And shove me away right at the moment I am aware of it.

How am I supposed to feel confident, when people only tell me how they feel after the real feelings are already gone?

it may sound weird what I am about to say, but I have met someone who is perfect in every single way.
he plays piano and guitar and likes good music.
he doesn't care about brands and money.
he loves reading and writing.
he's the male version of me.
and yet I don't want him as much as I'd expect

You were red,
you liked me
because I was blue.

You touched me and I became
a lilac sky, and you
decided purple just wasn't for you.

When you're reading an amazing book,
you don't escape live,
you dive into it.

( dutch)
Als je een geweldig boek leest,
ontsnap je niet aan het leven,
maar je duikt er juist in.

From the moment I first saw you,
I knew there was something wrong.
The way you walked and the way you talked,
you were like a handwritten song.

You where close to being angelic
with dazy eyes and a curly head.
But what I wasn't prepared for
was that you'd turn out to be satan  instead.

She's a very special girl.

People burn themselves trying to catch her light.
People drown trying to look in her blue blue eyes.

During a relationship, you always notice that things are losing it's magical shine.

After all we've been through, to you I have seemed to lost mine. I felt it when you looked at me, and all those times you didn't want me.

It's just that when your shine was fading I've always managed to polish some back on. It's sad that you couldn't do the same for me.

Although my body may still be failing, I am trying my hardest to keep my mind on track.
I am better now, at least I am trying.

I just needed you here because of my body not because of my mind, but you don't seem to get that.
And here we go, starting another fight.

This time is different

Well that's okay! Don't bother anwsering me.

I'm just one of them all right?

Just don't you dare come to me, all seriously and full of 'regret', and then the hour after do the same things all over again.

You've lost me, and you better like the feeling of living without me. Otherwise you'd be forced to actually care.

How awful would that be right?

The art of letting go, is not to step over te pain.
It's not to ignore your feelings, ignore the ache.

The art of letting go, is being able to let the pain in.
Let it overwhelm you, and afterwards take control.

Because the amazing Brendon Urie once said: "being blue, is better than being over it"

Maybe....
maybe I am just like a white crayon.

Ignored and found useless to most, waiting for that one person who will use black paper, who will need me.

Oh darling, why do you spend so much time making sure they'll know how "different" you are?

Do you think that makes them love you? Really baby we both know better than that.

Cuz all those time you feel left out, made fun of or just a stanger in your own life...
You blame them for the statement you've created yourself.

Nobody could have ever forced you to be like this, this is on you ***.

All I ever asked was time, and even that you couldn't give me.

They say time is money,
maybe you took that a bit too seriously,
and I a little too casually.

I don't know if I'm better off  with or without you.
When I'm not with you, all I do is miss you. All I do is trying to connect with you in any way possible.

But when I'm finally with you, all I do is cry because I finally can.
Because I can finally show my feelings.

But lately you've become mad everytime I told you my feelings. Not when we're face to face, then you just hug me till it's over. But when I'm  texting you or calling you, all you do is get upset because I tell you how I feel.

maybe we're toxic

Everytime you kiss me, my lips ache as if they where bitten on.
as if you would ever hurt me?
right?
would you ever hurt me?
you would wouldn't you ?
you've hurt me before so what stops you now?

I can not describe how good it feels to fall asleep in your arms.
But I will try to anyways...
Sleeping next to you is what I imagine death will be like.
Now I know that sounds harsh, but think of it this way.
Whenever I lay next to you, my heartbeat slows down bit by bit.
My eyes close and my mind finally stops running.
I feel safe and loved and that's how I would want my death to be.
But sleeping next to you is also very dangerous.
It is like an addiction to me.
Because everytime I sleep next to you, it gets harder to fall asleep on my own.

It just ***** to be left alone like that.
Because we both know that as soon as she walks into the room, you'll follow her like a lost puppy.

And I'll just be sitting there, saying: No ofcourse, go sit with her! I'm doing fine over here.

Just really really *****

Why is it that everytime I try to take care of him, I just scare him off?
I just want you to know I'm here for you that's all!

I'm not declaring my love to you by just holding your hand if you're sad!
I'm not crushing on you, just because I want to run my fingers through your hair everytime you lay your head on your arms

Just let me be like a sister to you.
That's all I really want, a male family member. A guy who will tell my boyfriend he's dead if he ever hurts me.

it is so sad, how you seemed really suprised when I asked you if you where okay

I mean you looked like you where crying and all I wanted to do is make sure you where ok, just like you did to me

and yet you just looked at me as if I just said something really weird, and since then you look at me differently

I guess I just have to keep asking you how you are so the next time someone else does, you won't seem so suprised.

What the hell am I doing?

I run after you, but as soon as I catch up I'm not even sure I want you next to me.
I text you, but as soon as you respond I don't actually want to talk to you.

Maybe it's the rush of chasing, and maybe the feeling just settles down as soon as the hunt is over.

But ****,

what the hell am I doing?

Ugh I hate having a writers block...
It is like capturing a hurricane inside a box,
impossible right?

All these words are piling up and ready to be blown into poetic sentences.
But they are trapped inside this little box that I call my head.
These words are stumbeling and rushing and flying round in my head.

All these emotions are ready to fall down and crush the ground like heavy rain.
But they cannot escape this skull of mine although they really should
Now they just make me go crazy, make me flooded with things I can't seem to lose.

I am too full of words and pretty lies.
Too full of emotions, story's and confessions.
But somehow I am so busy getting rid of them, that they decided to stick to me like blood on a murderers hands.

I WANT THEM GONE
I WANT THEM OUT

please oh God, help me get rid of them....