The sun shone on your last morning,
2 hours later snow fell.
Maybe this was you, gracing us once more.

You stood as a contrast to our black clothing,
your innocence, kindness,
against my guilt.
I should have called, I could have heard you one last time.

I am overdue for this apology.
It has taken me nine days to write this,
I'm not sure what was stopping me,
but I couldn't possibly utter these words.

We sat in a row, listening to old relatives speak about their past with you,
and all I could feel was your cold, thin hand grasping mine,
your large blue eyes looking for me with hope,
your beautiful voice singing me to sleep:
"in der Früh, wenn Gott will, wirst du wieder erweckt"...

I wish I could convince myself;
God decided it was your time to go, as you had told me he would.
But I know you suffered and I know that He wouldn't have taken you
before I could have said goodbye.
Or maybe this was His plan, to make us suffer for you, for once.

I think I've mastered the art
of disconnection
Often I let myself
ignore my priorities
for things not worth half the attention
I end up overlooking
the appreciation and love
that people in my life deserve
I let my feelings flow out with my breathe
instead of my eyes
I can't seem to remember
the last time I did something
good for myself
It's like as if sometimes
I'm simply just this being
without any human inside
I wonder if it's just a slump
a little reaction to the cold
or maybe it's not
maybe it's a reaction to something much deeper
Whatever it is,
is this me?

Hollow EYES see nothing
A hollow HEART stops beating
A hollow SOUL is unfilled
A hollow BEING is dead

she told me she was godless,
birthed of lust and temptation
and whatever the other sins were
that she couldn’t bother to remember.
she told me she was godless
but the mattress on her floor was
sacred and every three days she would rise.
she told me she was godless but she does not whisper,
she commands.
she told me she was godless but there is something
holy about the way she stands naked by the window at 6 AM
bathing in light.
she told me she was godless but she has never been one
to believe in what she was,
and gods do not answer to other gods.
she told me she was godless but i am not,
and i worship,
i worship,
i worship

This is for the people who don't have the suicide hotline number memorized just in case.
For the people who have never cried sitting across from a counselor because their lives are actually perfect.
For the people who have never chainsmoked a pack of cigarettes while their brain flirts with the danger of "what if..."
Whose hands don't shake uncontrollably with the memories of what used to be.
This is for the people who haven't drank an entire bottle just for the peace of sleep
The people who haven't wondered if waking up isn't the scariest part of their day
This is for the people who weren't diagnosed with PTSD, Anxiety, and Depression all in a spin of words.
The people who don't have to hold themselves together with fake promises that survival is only half the battle.
To the people who have never met the call of a razor blade with the skin of their bodies.
This is for the people who say that mental illness is just whining.
Do you realize just how lucky you actually are?

life has always been a tough thing to understand. to grip onto.
the tighter your grip was, the stronger you valued your life.
but what if your grip became weak?
what if, no matter how hard you tried to grip the bars of life, your fingers continued to slip?
sometimes, you have no control over how tight your grip is.
i always was considered physically and mentally weak.
not only would my grip become frail,
but even on those days where my grip was strong enough to get my head above the bars,
my tears would fall without thinking,
and the bars of life became toxic and wet
and my fingers would slip
and i would fall.
sometimes it's better with nothing to grip onto.

I am the girl too late

Fifteen minutes too late
And now months of work
Has gone to waste

Misinformed
I didn't know
But now my efforts
Will never show

Hours and hours
Spread over months
And in the end
It was fifteen minutes
That cost me my love

Never again
Do I want to try
Because I'm too afraid
I'll be left wanting

The time passed
And now I'm depressed
Simply because
I was the girl too late
And no one cares