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Anne B Jun 2014
So, we pretend we are all right
Cold faces, cold streets, cold weather
Fast-paced
Hurry up, hurry up
Do something with your life, they yell

‘What do you want to be when you grow up?’
‘Old enough to go to bed whenever I want’
Slowly turning away from the dream;
Staying up all night was just another disappointment

Well, growing up isn’t all it’s cracked up to be
Growing up is being told ‘you’re too young’ by others
‘You can’t do it’ by your own mind
Wearing a smile and hoping for the best
Doing everything half-heartedly;
… even loving half-heartedly, and
suffering
no-heartedly

Just step all over me
With your big feet
Fast-paced and cold faces and something to do with your lives;
Crush me under your feet –
turning to dust.

**13.06.14
I'm trying to write. And I'm not watching the WC football matches.
Anne B Jun 2014
We grew cold;
We drifted away
So, we burned all our bridges
And threw in some oil to the fire
Just to make it hurt
a
           little
     more.

**13.06.14
Goodbye.
Anne B Jun 2014
I don’t mind if I’m alone
I don’t mind if you throw me away
I don’t mind if they say you’re no good
I don’t mind if you go up and down
I don’t mind if you go away in your mind
I don’t mind if you are a scarred soul
I don’t mind if you tense when I ask you ‘why’
I don’t mind that you don’t fit in a group
I don’t mind that they talk about you
I don’t mind that you stroke my hair
I don’t mind your kisses
I don’t mind your own space
I don’t mind if you touch me
I don’t mind your warm hands
I don’t mind you
In fact, I don’t mind that your nose sometimes was in the way when I kissed you
I don’t mind that you didn’t meet me at the train station
I don’t mind the cold water between us
I don’t mind your wars
I don’t mind your peace
I don’t mind smile
I don’t mind how you laugh at my clumsiness
I don’t mind your presence in my life

What I do mind:
the sorrow you brought upon my kingdom
when you stopped singing and when you
stopped talking, and asked me to leave and
said ‘goodbye’

And I tensed.

**8.06.14
I don't know anymore.
Anne B Jun 2014
You have holes in your body
Lights leaking;
All of you,
washing out
into the darkness

Hurry, pick yourself up

*6.06.14
Don't let them get you.
Anne B Jun 2014
I’m on a train
People keep sleeping
Tossing their heads
Closing their eyes

It’s peculiar, truly
People's stories;
Countries with damp skies and damp, sweet, tickling rain;
Mountains and an elderly man with an umbrella,
wandering around the station
What are you looking for?

I remember my computer-generated wifi-password by heart
I have been travelling, running, up an down this country
the past months

Looking for safety
The ground below me was collapsing

The last time I was here I was travelling in the
opposite direction
Not from you – leaving you behind
To you

Only by duty am I forced to leave
I would have screamed out
"Don't say it, please"
What do I know?
I'm just a writer on a train
Clinging to people like magnets

All those clichés are over
Just as quickly as they happened
I think I knew
I think I should have known

Insomnia affecting my friends on facebook's chat
Logging on; signing off
Do you sleep safely now?

We are like inevitable frictions
Turned on; shut off
Close; far away
Warm, intertwining with my sweating feet; cold as blocks of ice

Close by force – far away in our minds

I go away in my own world as you consolidate your own troubles
I am a never-ending train of guilt, self-hatred and self-sacrifice
Stupid, trusting, kind but hostile of nature

Water running down the windows in a pattern of coincidences; ice in my mind
Fire in the hole!
Always a fire, they tell me
Is there a fire in you,
or just ashes?

You are a builder, afraid to stack too high
Trembling when I fall
But just reaching out to run away
So, now I stand here

No train;
No stations;

But there’s still life
But there’s still me
There’s still time and wars to be fought

That train will never stop
The sun also rises
Ice blocks too, must one day, melt

The water rises
We drown.


**6.06.14
Train ride from where I study, down home to my family for the summer vacation. It's raining just slightly. I wish you could see what I see.
Anne B Jun 2014
I was finding myself sleepless more often
And I was searching for something
A poem to write; words to scribble down; people to ****; joys to scatter…
Hopes to crush, maybe

Time to heal
Maybe not
Time to run away
Time to cope?


My heart crumbled into just the ***** pumping blood around my body;
like play, like something rehearsed;
completely like my life – structured and thought-over

I kept looking up at the ceiling and the light of my computer
All these ‘I’s and no ‘you’s
I was finding myself going mad, over you – the missing part
The music I played turned into cries for help
The lines I wrote were messy battlefields of abandonment and desperation
And I hated myself for it

All these news on my twitter timeline, and one new reply
All these people I live with and don’t know
These incomprehensible ****** expressions in the crowd; that piercing sound
All these faces I need to rehearse before leaving the bathroom
All these subjects and this language I can’t speak
Quick, back to the bathroom. I’m losing it

Don’t just think about yourself
Now, fall down to the floor like they do in the movies

Cry

It’s not as cool as in the movies – not as glamorous
Now, dry your tears, rise and breathe normally

For God’s sake then – just hold your breath
Let me count to a thousand
No, **** it
I don't want to do it

“Drink up and it’ll be better”
No, no
It get’s worse
The headaches and how I can’t walk straight – how is that better?

We’ll try again:
“He’s a *****.” “Yeah, I know.”
I still think he’s a good guy

But he’s not the problem
The problem is me;
and what he made me realise I am

Scream

I confess
Let me through, judge
Please
Yes, I swear to tell the truth and all of that now

It’s inside me
The monster is inside me
The sleepless nights; the endless poems and the tears hitting white unwritten papers
Judge, I have these convictions
“So you are a psychopath?”
No

(I hope I’m not)

I’m just a poor creature
I just think, and my thoughts are written down
I try, your honour
I try to stop them – try to fight them
But the words are law to me now

I do know they are not true
But I have been researching this field for my PhD thesis, you see
I have been finding no objections to my thesis
So I had to drop out and give up
It’s true
What the law has written

Your honour, I wish I could say it’s not true
But thus far, I have ended up alone
I have not been as good as I hoped

I feel no relation to people and my face has froze this way
I know I smile, and I know I laugh, and I know I talk
But I don’t understand

There is no one in the courtroom
But myself
There's just me - staring at myself
These are just mirrors
So I guess it’s true
The mirrors break

Scream

I’m walked out
In chains
To keep staring up at the ceiling
Keep staring at myself
Mirrors

Scream

I’m sorry I used up all my faith on coincidences
That time would heal wounds
Time is a punishment and time is all we have
Time and minds make us all go mad

In my eyes I am still my own hero
Still on a quest to find
safety, confidence and self-worth

Do it then
If you think that’s so impossible
Break a few other mirrors and see if anyone can hear them break

Scream

**5.06.14
Trying to explain how depression suddenly can catch you and force you down a tranquil road. This is how it feels for me.
Anne B Jun 2014
Shoulder to shoulder, we slept.
Face to face, we woke up.
And your face was peaceful then -
I'm sorry that this too,
*is a lie.
Meh.
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