stranger

stranger Sep 2021

Sometimes I dream of being a kid
Sometimes I dream of never waking up
Sometimes I dream of being free.
Sometimes I forget what life is about.
Sometimes I dream the 8 pills multiplied by 14 and that I died in the corner of the scene.
Sometimes I dream of never giving up the 10 floor I was planning on jumping.
Sometimes I dream of taking the poison I had been hiding.
I used to mark all my birthdays and count them all as funerals.
And I'd take pleasure or pain then clean up the deed.
That's a good girls memorial.
At 13 I thought I was projecting
Just a product of society, I'm copying what I'm given.
I thought it was boisterous and fraudulent to be suicidal.
So I became less pretentious.
Waited for mother nature.
A crosswalk, a powerful storm, a sickness
Glimmering on my birthday candles.
I've been better,
Older and meticulous I take to anger to get me off.
Moving from place to place, trading ciggaretes to be unconscious.
I polarize memories, scared they'll leave me if I'm not cautious.
Gatekeep happiness, the child and its loss.
My daddy still a distant obsession, now closer than ever:
Kid me saw him as a god, now I wonder if he's ever been human.
My mommy still the embodiment of warning, I used to think I'd see her cured of her epiphanies.
She's here but she'll never understand.
Every morning colder I'm clinging to what I never had
Hair's been black, blue, green, purple, pink until it wasn't,
Scaring trespassers with my fingers on the book subtitle
"legal ramification of a psychopath who's suicidal"
I've been 3 then 7 then every other number every year,
I refuse to get older the same way I refused to stay little.
Being really has been rough,
I guess I'll have to grow up.
But sometimes I dream of all my years going my way.
Sometimes I feel stuck in and out of my own brain.
Sometimes I want to erase my scars to make room for more.
Spectaculos speculations of a nail arching out of the floor.
I'm better even when I'm not.
Kid me would want to die the moment something irritating happened , present me would wait a second.
Not for me now but for me in the future,
Who could be smiling at me and remember,
That it was worse once maybe it won't stay so forever

stranger Sep 2021

i must've been free before

While I wait for the water to get warm
I'll write you a verse.
About how love's like a door,
That most definetly should stay closed.
How love is being alive
But how it won't forget.
Come to think of it, maybe love's disguised,
And it's actually death.
How I'm 17500 mosquitos,
And you're all the blood we'd ever dream of
And I'd drink you up until I explode.
How love's a distraction,
And though I haven't met anyone after her,
I'm afraid love might lead to self-destruction.
Like the dead roses in this cola bottle,
Like my lashes batting to avoid another battle
Like how the people leave and let their wind-chimes rattle
Forever.
What's love but irrational?
What's love but conventional?
I'm made to be obsessed with it, why not just take it all?
Mind and body might never slow down.
What's love when you write about two and you're only one?

stranger Sep 2021

23:28 it was so worth it

At 23:28
Is the last bus running
I feel the cold around me,
But Ive no time to hate.
The weather is splendid,
The streets flooded,
The bass booming,
The rain pouring,
I'm dumbfounded.
Why did I leave the concert so early?
I'm paranoid, I'm going.
Taking the bus hoping it'll take me home
And if it doesn't I'll walk I've no shame of my own.
I did walk at the end anyway,
Ankle deep in water while others were hiding
I'd call myself stupid if it wasn't so extraordinary,
Drenched to the bone, the rain so hereditary.
I was singing along then I was running.
Home if I find it, alone while the wind is blowing.
It was the prime act and for the first time I wasn't playing,
The antagonist,
The villain,
The hated,
The worst,
The ghost.
I was simply alive.
The water in my hair,
The razor sharp wind on my cold skin,
My ciggaretes destroyed and drowning in my pocket.
There was nothing that could stop me,
From finally living.

stranger Sep 2021

i wouldn't know how to be otherwise

I should move to a brand new city
And teach myself how to die.
Just like Mistki sang
I'm here again.
I've been so many people in so many places I'm tired to ressurect.
The motion and the stumbles
Have gotten me tired.
And now I sit in bed or in the backyard.
Listening to my head or my mom mar.
Me, no-one else.
Telling me how she'll let me know what you can sense,
From your first sniff.
A toothpick and a q-tip and she burns it.
Brings it close to my nostril and tells me to snort it.
And oh is it hurting.
My ear my brain my sinuses begging.
She says ******* is 5 times the feeling
And Im so concerned, I only half confessed to **** why is she showing this to me?
Ah it's another trap I see.
I ask where did she get it?
How would you know mommy?
Have you done it?
Tell me I'll keep it a secret I promise.
"no"
I've had friends die from it.
Oh it's that type of trap, it was anticipative.
Another warning turned life story
Another life story incomplete because I'm not deserving.
Another life another city.
She does it to me, and I become it.
This poem was supposed to be about dissapearing not my lineage.
Now it's both.
A declaration that I won't continue it.
I promise.

stranger Sep 2021

bate inima pentru nimeni

Îmi alunecă ochii în gură
Nu mai contează câte ore am dormit.
Mă uit în oglindă și știu că mă-njură,
Zilele dinaintea mea deja au trecut până am clipit.
Și urlă viața după mine:
"Ce-ai făcut cu mine curvo ?"
*** face orice orgoliu cu sine.
"mi-am futut o zi întreagă pentru o amintire redată la viteza disperării turbo"
Vorbesc cu moartea în fiecare seară și îi spun că nu știu ce vreau mai mult ***, viață sau să scap de oboseală.
Îmi spune sexul e o iluzie la fel ca viața
Și oboseala stă doar cât e lăsată.
Ce viață deraiată!
Nu-ți lași ochii să se închidă dacă ai fost prea onestă.
Și dacă dormi, te trezești cu regret cusut în țeastă.
Eu nu răspund
Eu nu vorbesc
Eu nu stau la rând
Eu nu știu să mă feresc
Și totuși încă trăiesc.
Mama a zis că ceața e a lui Bacovia
Eu cred că nu știe nimic despre ea.
Nu așa funcționează lumea.
Tata a zis că mi-am ales soarta
Mi-am negat fericirea și viața
Că mi-am tăiat șansele pentru alta.
Eu mi-am propus să nu mai văd
Să nu mă mai las urmărită
Coruptă de ură, oamenii se lipesc când eu vreau să dispar din orbită.
Vreau să fiu într-adevăr uitată.
Nu-mi permit să fiu iubită
Nu-mi permit alt suflet în purgatoriu.

stranger Sep 2021

I should've eaten myself by now

I know you're sitting on that chair
So distinguished
Say my body doesn't belong to me.
So famished.
So i hide and sleep my hallucinations away,
Wake and drink my tea like the English men
Smash my knuckles on the furniture to retaliate hell.
Sing to the wooden panels to feel like they care.
Click my pupils into place wishing I'd never use them.
I am curious in my manner of living by simply choosing not to and observing.
I keep on sipping
I keep on inviting,
Never throwing out.
Peculiar to complain about being full of thought,
I guess it's really the time to declutter and make room for heart,
To break, to rummage, to ache.
Make a spectacle out of myself
Bury myself in lust, envy and ***.
To never ask again to only listen to how souls beg.
To be a feminine classic
A delinquent movie where all I can do is dancing and drinking.
My dreams have become masochistic.
I'm tired of being existence so cystic
I used to be benign look where that got me.
Foul mouth, living so parasitic.
I never wanna see my mother, my father, my neighbours, my friends, myself ever again.
Just dissipate
Just titrate
Into dew
Into Rust.
Try to co-exist with dust

Yum

stranger Sep 2021

i haven't been sleeping

Sometimes i stand up and I'm taller than I should be
In the middle of the night, on the wooden floor I feel eyes above me.
I walk around, just a few steps to balance out my shoulders
And when I'm back in the room I'm back to normal.
Sometimes I look at my hands and forget that they're my own.
Sometimes I wake up from nightmares and go back to sleep to test if I still end up there.
Sometimes I step in the shower and forget how to breathe.
Sometimes I drink water and let it pool in my mouth not knowing if I should really swallow it.
To be so alone you start question if you're within yourself.
Am I keeping me good company?
My shoulders and their blades
My hips and their flames
How much is there left of me?

curious