sullen
black
darkness
im crazy
im not sure.
laugh alot.
pretend its okay
soak up the sun
soak up the tears.
make it winter
drown in tears.
while in the streets.
they sing festive cheers.
sanity.
sanity.
sanity silence.
   vanity violence.


i m still confused.
since when.
everyday.
i dress my wounds
a little more.
a little more fancier.
i hide the scars.
where no one can find them.
maybe only me.
deleting words i type.
why? out of shame?
what is right. what is wrong.
painted
images come in my mind.
is this a cry for help.
i wonder.
am i going crazy.
what is crazy.
maybe i'll try to explain me.
and maybe you'll be the judge.
fast
incredibly fast.
is there a therapist in the house.
i dont trust them.
they are boring.


are girls really illogical.
that makes me angry!
i dont want to be illogical.
i hate myself.
im scared of worms.
i like dark colours.
i think alot about accquiring stuff.
distracting myself from actually thinking.
by thinking of other stuff.
like how to be pretty.
have dreams and ambitions.
but im just building stuff up.
inside, im confused.
cos this dreams and ambitions are shallow.

and nothing makes enough sense.

tell myself repeatedly,
wash the clothes. wash the clothes.
it sits there. 4 days i think.
soaking in the water.
why do i never do that.

touching water. i rather be sleeping.
i rather be writing.
i rather be doing anything but cleaning.

but it keeps bothering me.

clean the room. clean the room.

why?

for whom?

i like it this way.

nobody visits me.
im a mess.
my room is in a mess.
keeping it clean will be pretentious.

should i put on a front.
people will like me better that way.

stop nagging me i say to myself.
and i start nagging myself to stop nagging myself.

so many different thoughts.
**** yourself.
laugh harder.
jump off the building.

magic dont exist.
im a non-believer.

funny amazing.

why do i like so much
to laugh.
why.
why.

why do i almost cry when i laugh.

why do i secretly wish i could cry my feelings out.

and stab myself.

pull my hair.
scream.
lean back. stare at the ceiling.
silently.
i get tired.
shhhh...

sit on a rocking chair.
to and fro.

make creepy voices and laugh.
why is that funny.
laugh very hard.
refuse to think hard.
im just writing whatever.
i need some help.
i want some help.

does normal exist.

i hear you.
i just heard you.

laughing.
ice cream over your face and hair.
how come i remembered.
i wasnt telling myself to.
i wasnt saying oh this is fun. i had fun.
i just do.
i didnt write then.
i didnt need to.

you smiled at me. i smiled back.
we were kids.
we were free.

and slowly time eradicated your smile.
or mine.
it holds too many secrets inside.
my mind.
and weird how time is.
it feels like a drag yet looking back, its all gone
in a puff.

now your smile is tainted.
complicated you know.
one does not always smile cos one is happy.
there could be alternate reasons.
its not straightforward.
how are you? a question asked one too many.
can we really know?
ask and you shall receive?
receive the deception?
they say they are fine.

if that seems enough questioning to convince you.
you must be a fool.
either from choice or not.

i dont like people.
i like them.
but maybe not always.

my friends are great but i keep secrets from them.
so it tortures me to be with them.

its a self-inflicted torture.

its a tainted smile on my face.
its the lonely night like this that
im writing this.

its the out loud wondering.

what's going on.

its a need for some explanation.

what am i doing.

im losing my mind.

there is no coherence.

im not losing my mind.

i still make sense.

complexities.

like a bee to honey.

i wrap myself around them.

like they keep an illusion around me.

an illusion of depth.

whereas,

lies in me a masked reality

denied so many times.

i keep doubting the presence of it.

the presence of the absence.

i say my life is not empty.

i say it is over-flowing.

i believe it.

but is this my one true belief.

or a self-inflicted one.

a choice i made just to be happier.

out of convenience.

but really deeply questioning myself.

i dont know why i think my life is great.

am i giving up.

am i slowly eroding.

and i think alot of myself.

narcissitic.

i cant get enough of myself.

and i want attention.

and i want to control people.

why?

i do things to get desired outcomes from people.

follow ur heart they say sometimes.

i dont have a heart.

i follow my sins.

my greed.

i torture people.

the ones in my head.

im scared to hurt people in real life.

i want to see them happy.

i want them far away from me.

and my evil intentions.

its something i fight everyday.

i do what i think is right.

but sometimes

i go against my very own principles.

this confuses me.

do i not like my principles?

then why do i make them my principles?

do i try too much not to fit in to my own boundaries.

that i run to and fro from one conclusion to another.

do i throw away all my life just for a moment of peace.

ants in my screen for real.

my life is a mess.

im buried.

deep in the chaos around me.

and im helpless against my own.

she needs to change.

something has to give.

and im afraid of a life without her.

the me i want to change.

and by change i mean get rid of.

will i still be me if i change.

will i still be me.

me.

i am.

confused.

Sometimes you make me so mad.
Because you treat me really bad.
I really dont know how to act.
If only I could speak with more tact.
Thinking, blood pressure rising.
I feel like I could explode.
My feelings now have over-flowed.
I can't keep calm.
I want to cry in my palm.
It really is not fair.
To just act this way and not care.
Why are you so narcissitic?
You have no reason, no logistic.
You do not own me.
You made it clear, expect nothing.
Why do you act if were apart of something?
I have grown numb
I feel like I don't know who I am.
I have built up an emotional dam.
Devoid of love or care.
That is not the person I want to be.
I want to connect, not feel like I have to flee.
So I act like I don't care.
Feelings have become none nothing to share.
Never in my life have a I felt afraid to feel.
Seeing you talking, boring round and round like a wheel.
You have no right!
No right to make a fight.
Your hold me at a double standard!
All my feelings completely unanswered.
Because I know I can't have none.
So your not allowed either! Not a single one!

in the curve
of the ox-bow
the tepid currents
a second sky
winds its way
on this earth.
it is false.

my mirror, my mirror
when I approach
your light grows dim
and murky with clouds
of sand.
From a distance I thought -
you were a bright glassy hope
but
you strand little things
fill in houses
before drying up
in the heat of the sun.

Yours is not first light
nor resilience
I am glad
to have walked along the shoreline
and in the full tempestuous surf
I am glad
I am big enough
not to be caught like
your little fish
narcissitic,
desperate to find my own reflection
in you.

in the curve
of the ox-bow
of the currents
i return to the child-self
to wading for the sake
of wading
to feel the coolness of the water's ebb
and not
to waste love, wanting.

i was a chubby kid, sure...
                                      when i moved to england,
i was guzzling down cans of coca-cola
                                  like mad...
                                            back in poland?
climbing trees,
        playing hide & seek,
   going to bonfires where we
threw potatoes into the fire
and later ate them, smoked,
        covered in ash.
     and ****, i did work out from
the age of 18 to the age of 21...
gym, squash, cyciling in a frenzy
on the narrow country-roads
of essex...
   i might have had a six-pack...
at the zenith i weighed in at under
80kg...
                     i managed to
dig out the sort of underwear
i used to wear a few days ago...
   and started thinking: is this a
handerchief, or a napkin?
       do i put this on my hand,
or on my head?
         at 115kg...
    the exercise i get up to today?
  no, nope, no treadmill, now rowing machine...
no gym in general...
      a litre of *** every night...
i can't and even won't begin
to apologiße... can't be bothered...
    what i will apologiße about is:
on the odd day, i might prefer
    monster magnet's version of donovan's
song three king fishers...
          just for the oomph of guitars!
              oh ****, the sitar is still there.
i remember talking about this
with my drug dealer over a joint once...
****... what was his name?
              massive afro, a lenny kravitz
look-alike...
                 great smoking session,
obviously i was not on a parallel with him,
given the snorting sound...
   what? *******...
       amphetamines are for poor kids,
or luftwaffe... or isis...
                 the drug is an all army...
    i once talked to an ex-convict,
       turned dub-step d.j.,
          his main complaint from being addicted
to amphetamine? insomnia...
     well... d'uh... that's what the luftwaffe
had to experience, to give rise of
the london blitz: being wide-awake,
         setting off from an airport in berlin.
the thing is... i don't remember having
a body being under 80 kilograms,
    or something resembling a six-pack...
    i have no idea as to why that's the case,
it's like i was drunk for 3 years, and
drank too much, and on a chance
of "nostalgia"... i can only remember clipping
my toenails.
             i'm more orientated these days...
i either have a goatee, or a beard,
   or a double-chin...
              **** me, exercise is great...
a litre of *** per night?
                     it's not exactly a six-pack...
but something of a balloon parameter...
     a sheep-stomach...
              to be honest, with regard to this
being a very narcissitic piece?
                i find creating fictional characters
too difficult...
      i don't like creating shields for myself...
i'm stressing the genesis story
  of stripping all my clothes & masks off;
well, if poetry doesn't tread or raise itself
to the dizzy heights of biblical "metaphor" -
then obviously the biblical,
   could never become contemporary,
the translation is temporal...
   in poetic "anti-scientific" terms: it too evolves;
how can there not be an evolutionary
undercurrent of a book, that has established
institutions like the vatican, the church?
              john milton knew it was
an evolutionary text, like the darwinists stated
that the ape body was also an evolutionary canvas...
    for some reason, coming from the east,
i feel implored to avoid the cliché standard
of working on the book of genesis...
                 i feel a need to be immersed in
the book of exodus... once the jews began
congregating in israel,
           the poles started dispersing -
               *dzięki leszek, leszek **** wojensa...
                     no, i oraz: król zefa-wółtyłka.