It started like an itch inside my mind, but i couldn’t
just scratch it with my bare hands
so it came in the back of my head
how mad i get sometimes and
how incredibly angry i get sometimes
with myself
with this diseased mind of mine
and these bare limbs
just floating around in the air
stuck in myself
a walking scarred tissue
so i made that first great entrance
to welcome the blood flowing out
and waiting for that time
that never happens
should i stand a little more?
should I enter a bit deeper?
“hello, I’m an old friend, I’m a guest and I’m a host
of yours
so please welcome this person of mine
to be out of these lands forever.”
Maybe i could say that and
something would happen
but i could just make some eleven more openings
and watch myself bleeding
the very welcome
way out
that I think I
deserve.
Do i?
I’m not quite sure
but somehow i’ll discover
hopefully before they open this door
and find me drowned in my
own poisoned blood
just to see the light that
i've been told my whole life
and that never occurred to appear
for decades
and all i could do was wait
but now i'm running out of time.

I'm a tiny little boat
and you're my
open sea,
i beg you
to
madly
swallow me up.

Ashes in my heart
leads to
a solved problem
which you
burned down
while I was
in love.

Under the moon
i was waiting for you
under the moon
i was craving for you
under the moon
i was falling for you
under the moon
i was dying for you
but once
right under the moon
i died for you
and then, under the moon
i wished it was just you.

You're like gold
expensive and shiny
but I'd highly rather
put my hands
on sterling silver
and keep it
forever
with me
than to be tempted
to sell you
and have you
no more
in my hands.

Does my poetry
harm you?
I'm sorry
i only mean to
slip my blades on
myself
but sometimes
i forgot they hide
inside my thoughts
as well.