In search of freedom.
I jumped
Only to become an anchor,
Opening my mouth only leads to drowning

“Feminism shouldn’t exist” the guy next to me in class tells me with conviction in his eyes. “Females have more rights than men, their period just makes them whiney as ****”

Well, you might not be a guy who walks around grabbing girls’ *****, believing that the clearly uncomfortable smile she send you, after you had starred non-stop at her for 5 minutes straight was consent.
Or a guy who comes up to a girl at prom not being able to understand that she doesn’t have a date because “all the guys I know would **** to pieces”
But just because you don’t do this (and THANK YOU for that), don’t ******* tell me these men don’t exsist, when each of every example in this poem is a different guy in my life..

You’re not the one who couldn’t walk down the school hals without 10 guys catcalling and starring  at your ***, all while you stare the floor.
I guess it’s my fault for wearing leggings or running pants, thinking it was a smart idea because I planned on going running later. Or at least that’s what I’m told at the guidance.
Unfortunately them not being ‘real pants’ doesn’t make your hands on them less real.

You’re not the one therefore starting to wear as baggy close as possible, because apparently that’s the way of escaping male gaze and more importantly hands, just to be met by comments going: “did you get up last minute this morning,” or “why did you give up trying? You used to dress so cute”
Trying on WHAT?
Yes, I am giving up, because I don’t know how to make you look into my eyes without giving me the elevator glance first.

But, I shouldn’t be complaining. Pretty girls don’t have anything to complain about – right?
They’re pretty, they’re going to do fine in life as long as the know how to take off their clothes.
Being pretty is the reason guys pay you attention, and you should be glad, cuz ugly get none.
So I’m taught to sit back and accept harassment, because the only other option is not getting is, and you wouldn’t want that, would you?
All while girls compete trying to become as pretty as me and all the other pretty girls.
Because it doesn’t matter how funny or smart you are as girl, if you aren’t pretty, it doesn’t really matter.
BUT, if you are, being smart is hot – not geeky, and any other slightly not good characteristic will be overlooked.
And taking off your clothes is a great tool to get your way.
Just accept life is easier you for, man.

But you misunderstood something.
Girl don’t try to be pretty to have that kind of ‘privilige’ or to get an easier life.
They try to be pretty, because it the only way you survive.

She was raised to win, to bear the crown
Raised to ignore the weight wearing her down,
because happy girls, yeah, they don't cry

She lived to please others
She lived to aim other's expectations, and knew she could never be, who she truly is
Taught that success is the key to everything, and that success is only measured in a fancy career, money or power.
But happy girls, yeah, they don't cry.

And they all say that she'll go far
"She has her life all figured out", they say with admiration
Because supergirls, yeah, they just smile

Little do they know,
that when she gets home
She'll write down her real dreams and thoughts,
just to throw in a draw
because supergirls, yeah, they just smile

So tell me,
don't you know, that it's our fatal flaw,
to honestly believe,
that people aren't real human beings?
With dreams and aspirations that aren't considered "smart"
With emtions and tears they can't express without being considered weak

I guess we'll never realize
Because happy girls don't cry,
and supergirls just smile

I stare into an empty room. I see nothing. I hear nothing. I smell nothing.
But - something’s here….do you feel it aswell?
My mind is a highway of cars and thoughts, and nomatter how long I drive for none of those roads cross with yours, so, I simply wouldn’t know.

And everytime you open your mouth- despite it being for words or a kiss- I start craving a little more.
Every squeeze from your hand, every snarky comment and smile keeps that craving going.
I’m not talking about a quick roll in the hay or a brief moment of feeling wanted.
I want something much bigger and way more unattainable.
Your love has become my one birthday wish.

We might be young and we might not last, but for right now, I know we would be great together.
Even despite you having absolutely ruined me, by foolishly letting me believe there could be more than 36 cats for me.
So I’m left hoping those big brown bambi eyes aren’t fooling me, because I think I might be falling.
Hard.
And I need you there to catch me.

We don't have money.
We don't have time.
But we got miles. Plenty of miles

The stars shinned so bright
That I had to wear shades at night
The taste of happiness was so good
too good to be real.
Should we get out of here?
Let's make the night a little longer, because tomorrow won't bring good.

Others try to trip me up,
but you,
you made me fall

Baby, why won't you lie?
Your timing is just right
You're intertwined around my neck
Get the hell out here
Freezing inside out
Let's make the night a little longer, because tomorrow won't bring good

**Ain't a little better than nothing?

I breath in, I breath out
The cold air is filling up my lungs, and I haven't slept i n a month
So I keep going on, because life's rushing by me,
and I can't figure out it's joy or denial, but I could use a good party, to drink my self senseless
No one will let me in.

Soon I'll be under a different sky, start a new life.
I'll not quit the act.
Perfection is haunting me, along with expectations of who I should and shouldn't be.
Tell me, do the best or worst things lin life come for free?

Just make me feel good for once.
Just make me forget for once.
Make me know what it feels like to be discovered, when you're uncovered.
Tell me, how does it feel to dance freely for once?
How it feels when you scream out your lungs like,
no one could every hear you,
break you,
see you,
catch up with you.
Is it good?

I breath in, I breath out.
Not quit the act.
Drink myself senseless.
Haunting me.
Under a different sky.
Wrong or right?

The truth is the glaze of your eyes.
It beams off you like the sun beams of light.
And ever since I was a kid I would gage at the sun,
wondering if it could really make you blind.

After all these years you gave me the answer

All I know to do is run.
Stop asking me what I’ll do,
*when my face hits the ground, and I can’t run anymore

I don’t know which feeling you bring out in me the most:
Love or powerlessness
You are my oxygen but lately there’s only nitrogen in the air

Everytime you look at me with those puppy eyes I see your love for me burning like a sun, but currently my sky has been overcasted with clouds and rain.
You say there’s nothing I can do to make you feel better, that it’s not my fault.
But how am I supposed to see you hurting like that? If feels like sandpaper scratching both my mind and my skin, and there’s not long till the blood will start to spill.
I don’t know what else I can do but push, push, push, and I don’t know if I’m pushing you over the edge.

I know I can’t force you to be happy
I don’t want to either
And I’m cool with being the most important aspect of your life
But I don’t think I can be the only one anymore

*I love you.
You’re the smartest, most handsome and kindest person I know.
I want to be with you
Why can’t you understand you are what means the most to me?
Why can’t you understand that I’m really ******* trying? Am I the only one?
Why can’t you understand that I need you to care?

The only one I can't forgive


is myself for forgiving everybody else


*I can't do this anymore