i cant say a word anymore without messing things up
it's me, just me,
i'm not even just saying that,
it always ends this way.
a promise broken, everything is different
by the time it's ok, it wont be,
and it's too late.
i'd tell myself to forget,
but i know what it's like to be forgotten.
i'd tell myself to give up on caring,
but sometimes it's the only thing that holds a person up.
what i do tell myself is
i want to see people
without the filter and pretty lies, knowing very well it will hurt.
does it?
it does.
because,
i once wrote:
"on the oTHER HAND
you're a really good friend
and nobody understand me like you do
and i always look forward to our conversations
cause you're like the only person willing to listen
and it makes me feel special
even though i'm not
it's just
thank you so much
and it's really nice to talk to you so don't like
disappear
cause that happens too much
but this time
i'll hang on until the end
i hope you'll do the same"

i had hope
we both had hope
i said things never turn out ok and i was right.
for me, for soth, for comic and brutal,
for the nameless boy, for bunny,
for little nina, little nina who promised to come back,
and for you.
and i knew i was wrong
even before it began
and that's why
and that's why
everything is wrong and everything will never be ok. words cant describe. singing cant describe. nobody understands. i know caring is a lie. it's such a pretty lie but that feeling doesn't even exist anymore.
my poems are just about sadness now,
they're all, all about you.
you know now, things change:
the boy doesn't cry alone at night anymore.
those 44 poems keep growing and growing.
love feels fake.
my messy thoughts are even messier.
those lonely nights peak into day.
and beneath the everlasting heat,
i never heard any heart beat.

that was the first poem i read to you.
and it's tiring to
just.
be.