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Nov 16 · 13
Ida Nov 16
It's been a while but once again I find myself in front of a mirror unable to remember how I got here
It's me, I know that, but I keep waiting for her to tell me exactly why I stand here
Because I don't want to do the work of finding out so I rely on someone else
But the only one I have is myself
Oh wait, that's not true
I have my old teddy bear, and I have spring waiting for me around the corner.
It's spring again, it's been a year since I stood exactly where I stand right now, I haven't moved an inch
And still that reflection refuses to tell me what I need to hear.
It's me, all of it
My teddybear is me, it certainly isn't someone else
maybe spring is me, too.
You can turn away but she's still there, so you close your eyes but she's still there
You can walk around the earth but she'll still be there
I'll still be there
And I think I'll need to rip my own neck off to get rid of me
Nov 4 · 18
Mirror stabbing
Ida Nov 4
There has always been a lot of different ways to destroy yourself - there's the devotion to something that is not you, the cutting a piece off yourself and putting it in another person; that person becomes positive one and you are left with a gaping hole that misses itself, misses what is used to be.
And that hole will never fully fill itself again, you see, no matter how much you stuff it with wool and dirt. There will always be this swallowing-everything-you-see-and-then-spitting-it-out hole. And then you think, what if I completely give myself to others? And then there's chunks of yourself on the floor and you're as much human as your kiddy teddy bear that's been lying in the mud your entire life. And then there's a dead man at your feet.
 There's the protective layer - the fake, something that is not you, the stolen artwork that you placed on yourself because you're too ashamed, too scared, to fill the gallery with something that is truly yours. Something that is truly you. You're walking around with a camera in your hand that captures everything at a hands-reach. And then you pretend its your own until you fool yourself enough to finally grab your needles and thread and sew your own initials on the tag.
You can stab yourself well enough that they won't recognize you anymore. Take every sharp thing you see, and then jam it straight into where it hurts. But it hurts everywhere, so you keep stabbing, until people come up to you and feel sorry for you. ‘what happened’ they ask. You never know what to answer. ‘What happens next?’ You're afraid now, you're not yourself. I’m sorry, maybe if I rearrange your mirror you will see yourself again, but my knuckles will have to heal first.
There’s still blood on them.
Jul 12 · 105
remember me please
Ida Jul 12
you walk on an abandoned railway
its dark and you can't see anything
but your know they're there
people in front of you
behind you, on every side of you
holding you like you're something dear, someone important that they can't bear to lose
it's a ghost town.
you might as well be blind but you still balance on the tracks, someone is holding your hand
at home your mom is making dinner while you eat a clementine
and nothing makes you happier than this clementine
so you consider planting a seed but
it would die anyway
because it's a ghost town.
but there are no ghost, not really
it's just history
and it's begging you to keep yourself sane.
Jul 5 · 100
Ida Jul 5
Those nights when I inked my skin with words I wanted everyone to hear were the best ones
For once I had something to say and I wanted everyone to hear it
for once I am kicking over trash cans because the world is loud and I am nothing less than the world
and stomping on concrete but avoiding the bugs and flowers because the world is not gentle but I try my best to be
an angry kind organized mess
Praising the lord in all the wrong ways because the world is up to me and heaven and hell is in my bedroom
and a beautiful exorcism where I am stretching my limps for the first time made me realize that
God is dead but I am alive
Apr 9 · 318
Ida Apr 9
I've been preparing for this my entire life
This particular unluckiness in love that seems unavoidable
It's been in fairytales I've heard as a kid
in the books I've read
in songs on the radio
in poems
in everyone

But no one ever told me that I would be the villain
Never once did I relate to the bad guy
But here I am
and I'm the bad guy

And every time the villain is explained
it is said that she is good in her way
That she never choose to become the villain
But I had the choice
I've been good my entire life but today I decided to be bad
Tonight I killed the princess and took the prince for myself

There's no poison, only me
Me being forced down innocent throats
until they bleed their secrets to me

To me
Ida Apr 3
There's a devil in the corner of my room who waits until I fall asleep to kiss my cheek and bid me goodnight.
During the day he cannot reach me because he is, as stated previously, a demon, in all its magnificent glory.

But he's not bad, not for me.

I tell him all my secrets, I tell him of all who looked at me with eyes I can't interpret. I'm trying my best here, and I think this four legged creature is the closest I'll come to being loved.
Mar 27 · 28
Ida Mar 27
In one single night I realized the meaning in which I have been dwelling my entire life to find out the answer to
but now I fear that I know too much about what needs to be kept unknown

I've been mumbling the words of one thousand dead relatives every second of my life.
You can't hear me, neither could I until this one particular night.

I found myself on a bike riding south and wondering why I'm here, what made me get here and why am I on a bike and why am I riding south and why am I ten years old I feel like I should be one million

I fell asleep and woke up one year older, then I repeated the process and now the candles can't fit on the cake but my blow gets compared to storms

I can't keep up and on my death bed I will speak the words of Eve

She said, "This life was made for you, are you ready to do it again?"

and I replied, "We are the same, you and I"
Ida Mar 17
I wish I was the sea
That I hid endangered species
that one million people would aspire to be the first to find

I wish I was a roomful of gems
That I had rows and rows of the most beautiful diamonds
intoxicating, makes you stunned
and worth one million a piece

But reality is just not that complicated
I don't know myself enough to teach you anything
You keep trying to pry me open
but there's only one thing I can tell you
there's nothing in the pages
They're empty

Because you keep trying to read me
But you have to let me write me first

One day I will be the sea
But it's gonna have to take a while
And while you're here, watching me
I can't become something beautiful

I will become something worth searching for
But I'll have to get there alone
Ida Mar 15
I've spent an eternity staring at my own reflection
Trying to find out exactly what made me get here
and I've only ever found out one thing
That my life is absolutely pointless
but I also have a feeling that if I spend another eternity here
I will realize something else entirely

Because I've been having these dreams lately
these vivid, disgusting dreams
in which I know exactly the answer to the question I ask myself
And in these dreams, I don't seem the way I imagine myself to be
when I find out the answer
When I find out the answer
I imagine myself joyful
because why else would I spend eternities
trying to find out why I'm here
if if would not grant me a lifetime of joy?

I seem to be walking quietly around my childhood home
looking at my hands as they rot in front of me
And I'm walking heavily, you see
like I'm being chained to the earth
and I would have to spend yet another eternity
just walking around my neighborhood

I just keep walking until my feet turns into soil
And I turn into soil

I know now why I can't keep searching for something
I will never find

— The End —