I searched for happiness
in a dark closet with the door closed.

Once we were laying in a field
in the early hours of the morning
with dummies in our beds
without screens in our windows
I think he was crying or maybe I was
I asked him what sadness felt like
he whispered

"hollow, hollow, hollow."

I dug myself a hole.
And lay myself down inside.
Letting the mud and gravel cover me.
Never seeing the light again.

I want to feel this way because,
I don’t know what other way there is to feel.

I engulf my body in the warm water,
Listening carefully to the beating of my heart,
Filling my ears.
Being careful not to corrupt the liquid surrounding me,
Trying to remind myself I am alive.

I have been drinking too much to write you a song
Downed too many drinks to say I care
Because when sober the pain becomes
Far too much for me to bear

I've been drowning sorrows in alcohol
Numbing the hurt night after night
I want to tell you I love you
I've been drinking too much to write

Pain used to inspire me to write.
Words would flow easily through my fingers,
substituting my tears.
I used to draw my pain. I painted my canvas with feelings,
and emotions, that words could not express.
If things started to feel hopeless, music was my saviour.
I would write lyrics, amplifying the words with sad tunes,
spilling my deepest, darkest thoughts.
But now, the pain is so strong, it is all I can think of.
My thighs are covered in scars,
from when the pain got so bad, that I needed to bleed it out.
Now, I realize, that I have drained myself.
There´s no tears, no words, no paint, no blood
left,
to spill.

you don't exist when
my eyes are open
you don't exist when
my blood's not poisoned
when my soul's at peace
when my gut is full
and when I'm in company

So you exist most of the time
dear muse