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A Jun 6
I always wanted to blow my mind

To get swept away,
dance through roses and sorrow,
colour my soul with the paint from the sky,
to tickle my belly with the sun, even when it's grey

I never thought I actually would

And then, I never thought I would be stuck here

In dreams, melancholy, fantasies and daydreams about skies so beautiful I would never ever want to look outside my soul
And warmth so tempting I could never feel the refreshing cold reality

I just never saw this coming

And it just feels impossible, you know?
To go from fluffy, yellow mist to harsh, sweet life
To be awake, to not go back to safe, old dreams
To ignore the moon smiling at you, to stop believing you're actually going to be special
because in an ordinary world, the only way you are someone is in your head
A Jun 6
I've laid countless of times just staring at the ceiling, watching the shadows, watching my mind
A Mar 12
I just can't stay like this
- feet on the wall, stomach on the ground, chest all over the place and logic nowhere at all
A Mar 5
This - getting glimpses of all that could have been - it is torture for the soul
A Feb 28
I've spent too much time on the bathroom floor, asking my tears to be as silent as they can, for us to ever be okay again
A Jan 17
I don't know when it happened but it just started getting heavier

Getting up
     it could take days
Going back to sleep
     it could take years
Putting away my phone
    it could take forever

And do you also think gravity is getting on me? Doing its best to make
                      everything
                 so
        ****
heavy

As if I should be punished for wanting to stay up in the clouds
                everywhere I go
                                         everything I do

As if I should not get any release
As if I should have learned that I must not escape to pink skies and air
As if I should have gotten used to loving grey ceilings, asphalt and wind just as much

As if there wasn't anything else to long for
As if this should be it
As if this actually is it.
A Nov 2020
I gave up on being me with you

You said that what was me was naive, wrong, weak and difficult
You ripped it out, threw it on the floor and said ' Look at this mess! Look at what you've done!'
And I raged, refused to clean, tried talking sense, screamed 'well look at you!',
cried 'just look'
Until I turned myself inside out to see what you meant
until I started seeing it too
Until I also wanted to rip those parts out of me, rip out what was me, what used to be me

Until I stopped being me with you
And became a hollow shell of you
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