everything I do hurts you,
my happiness stresses you out
my energi smother yours,
highlights your loss of it
the same way the kind gestures show me
your weariness
I am well and you aren't  
I would take it all
in a nano second but I can’t
I’ve tried but I can’t
I play tired and I play sick
I’ve tried to show that we’re the same
but i know  
it doesn’t make you less sick
not a single bit
all I can do is to grow
and try to hold your hand
even if you’re left behind
and all this, all this
until death will tear us apart.

I can feel the normality
sending a friend request to death
I can feel time accepting it
I start to recognize the blended soft colors
and the feeling of life coming and going
just hoping it isn’t in my hand.
I am turning into someone else
I say I’m happy
because I know it matters
We have one thing in common here
we don’t complain because the nurses teach us that’s what kills us in the end
I try to stand up outside all of it
I try to feel like anything else matters
but it doesn’t
I’m scared my happiness somewhere else
takes away the happiness we have
until death tears us apart

I take the buss back home
I leave you behind
I fake my way up to sit at the top so that I can see
I have a photo of you on my phone to remember
just in case you would go away
It’s a new feeling a mix between everything
and nothing
I write it down
because I can’t loose these seconds
just in case you would go away
It makes life feel so important
It makes everything else feel stupid.
It makes you stronger
It makes everything heavy
and all you can is hope, hope that it’s not
until death tears us apart

There’s a pregnant woman who wants my seat
I let her have it
I go all the way back I pass one with a burn mark on his face
I wonder how many tears have happened the last ten minutes on this buss
I wonder how they take it
I don’t know how I take it
I know the barr is lower here
the scary part isn’t getting sick
here it’s dying
and in that case
I know I’m the lucky one  
Until death happens to me
and I feel happiness knowing
I’m the lucky one  
I can be light flying over a bridge while everybody else takes the buss
until your death will tear me apart.

I guess you can call it lying
saying you’re fine when you’re not.
But it’s also a way of protecting
the dark spots on the mind that one got

just **** then

There’s a picture that you took
it looks green
There’s two mountains and a sky
and a field of grass
The sky is green, but only because it reflects the grass
the same way that the sky is blue because the ocean looks blue
or who takes from who?  
There’s some yellow too
You said those colors were friends
i believe that to be true

If yellow died green wouldn’t be green anymore
i think i’m green and you were yellow
because you knew that truth
you took that picture
for me to remember you

There’s a picture that you took
it looks like me
There’s two arms and a head
and a field of hair
I take my paint and paint you in
so now I can show them
what we could have bin.

Sometimes I think that might be
the only reason
why I write anything,            
anything at all.
To remember,
remember that we were friends
and that we had great conversations.

Did that title excuse the pretentious thoughts in my head

Because I really want you to know I’m actually a lot of fun, no?

If I say **** enough times do you start to understand that

I’m fun
****
I’m fun
I’m so much fun
****
I’m fun
i’m fun
I’m fun
****
I'm fun

I don’t like bacon, I don’t like small talk
I don’t like you being fake and telling me you like me when you don’t.
I don’t like you saying I’m pretentious,
Because I’m not or I am
I don’t know
What does it even mean?
I don’t like you telling me I’m pretentious like it’s a bad thing.
I’m fun, I’m a lot of fun and in the end we will all die as bacon.

Look, at that cup of coffee
Standing there
Without the fear of getting cold
The sun heats it up before a singel degree
Even starts to think about leaving

Look, look at that mountain
Standing there
Stronger than any hous or tree
Never like the ice afraid of breaking down

Look, look at time
Always moving forward
Giving people hard times
Never letting them have a single second back

Look, look at that kindergarten teacher
Teaching kids things he knows
Things he knows that he knows
Never afraid to be outsmarted

Look, look at that child
pretending better than anybody else
Turning nothing into play
Degrees into creatures
Mountains into needed friends
Time into the the enemy
And the teachers into outdated non fiction
Because she knows
Fiction is her home.