Why can't you be horrible and full of unforgivable flaws?
Why does it gets worse and not better inside my stupid, devoted heart?
Why do you still feel the same to me?
Your skin hasn't lost that scent I knew
The scent I still know and can remember by simply closing my eyes
The scent I still desire and find familiar
Even if it really never was

Don't ever fall in love with a poet
because they will indeed admire and watch your every move
they will write about how the pen marks on the side of your palm when you write
don't ever because they will trace
every single freckle you have on your face and
write about the color of each and every one of them and
describe how they smile so brightly under the sunlight
they will want you to want to know every little thing about them
even if it's just what hand they write with and want you
to be wondering why they write with that specific hand when in
reality it doesn't even matter

the poet will watch the way you dig
your eyes onto that book and your small quick remarks onto the 26 letters all crumpled together and will know that everyday at 5:28 p.m. you smile

they will look deeply into your eyes
to see if they can at least take a little
peak of your soul and they will write
about you like if you were the only
thing they see good in this world

they will want to know what you think
about when you look at them and
see if you also count each and
every freckle and hope and write  
that you do but they will
love you endlessly and they will
show you that they love you and only you

but don't date a poet if you aren't
capable to watch them and
admire their imperfections
when they sleep late at night
beside you.

j.f

one pill
two pills
three pills
four.

how many more
before i hit the floor?

five pills
six pills
seven pills
eight.

i think that i
can already see the gates.

nine pills
ten pills
eleven pills
twelve.

this war is ending now,
the one with myself.

thirteen pills
fourteen pills
fifteen pills
sixteen.

sorry mom
i'm a ****** up queen.

seventeen pills
eighteen pills
nineteen pills
twenty.

wait,
how many?

twenty one pills
twenty two pills
twenty three pills
twenty four

and now i am asleep
upon the floor.

everybody needs somebody,
and I've only got myself for company.

It’s 3:00 in the afternoon.
Am I happy?
Yes, I guess, maybe. Just got home from school;
Tired and sleepy. Laughed a lot,
But relapsed once again.
Why is this happening again?
I can’t let myself fall again,
Though I’m forcing it to go back for them.

It’s 2:30 in the morning.
Am I happy?
No. Demons are coming all over again.
The voices are getting to me.
They’re going to take control over me.
Things are getting worse each time.
It’s like I’m in the middle of a tug war.
I don’t have anyone, and everyone has me.
I’m always there for people but they’re
Not always there for me.

It’s 4:00 and I haven’t been able to sleep.
Am I happy?
No. I feel alone. Loneliness.
It’s empowering itself through my bones
and all the way through my brain.
Taking control over me, as if I was no victim.
I have no friends, no one to talk to.
I have to deal with my own drama and
I just can’t. I want to sink in my bed.
Let the dreams sink me in for I
Have nothing to live for.
All of this is happening, yet I go around the
halls with the bright smile on my face.
Pretending like everything’s okay when
It’s actually all a ******* mess.

It’s 6:00 and I haven’t slept a bit.
Am I happy?
No.No.No.No.
The same answer over and over.
Thinking about the same nightmares.
Dreaming about what will never truly happen.
I have bags around my eyes, but no one notices.
I try to cover it with make-up, and everyone
Believes the dark fantasy of ‘okay’ being the truth.

It’s 2:00 in the afternoon.
Am I happy?
Idek.
I’ve learned a **** lot of lessons,
Yet not one of them seem to help me tbh.
I give them to whom I call my “friends”
And I use myself as an example of being the best
And the one who suffered but already got better and is ready
To experience life 100%.
But really, is it true?
It’s all BS tbh that comes out of my mouth for trying to
Help others.
*** is wrong with me?
Who am I fooling?
Me and only me.
You’ve got to understand you have 0 friends.
No one likes you. You’re a loser to the left.
You’ve got NO ONE.


And that right there, were my demons talking.
Now you get how I feel when they come?
Yeah that’s what I thought.
No one will probably ever read this,
Because as I wrote up there,
I have no one so nobody will be ever
Interested in what I feel.
But however I write it. To feel accomplished.
To feel like I’m talking to someone when I am
Actually talking to nobody. I did this just to let it all out.
And honestly it feels good.