You’re so unhappy.
And ******* but doesn’t it make you special.
Afterall no one else is unhappy.
Your pain at night is the warmest thing you are sure you could hope to feel.
It gives you your driver’s license,
And you drive right the **** over anything that throws into question what you do,
Your tire marks steadily worming beneath my skin.
The secondhand rhapsodious misery you expel into the air crawls into the threads of my clothing and lingers.
Your justify your uninspired cruelty as being something I need to hear,
Point to pain as truth to fuel your fallacies.
That’s not what truth is.
You wound because you can,
Too afraid or angry or selfish to apologise and so you spoon out excuses,
Each more common than colds.
Like chunky lemon milk,
We linger past our expiration.

When I excuse
my faults
I lose the opportunity
to improve myself.

When I accept
my faults
and evaluate my self
I can then
improve my self
towards the wisdom and virtue
I need
to achieve optimal joy and happiness.

Do you know,
you only call me
when no one else
picks up

-em vidar

The person who I respect the most is the same person I pretend doesn’t exist when I see him walking towards me.

It’s not your fault
I have a million and one excuses why I don’t stop and bore you to tears
But not one of them could ever fix the fact that I never think of how you must feel when I do it
My insecurity turns talking to you into one of my biggest fears

Even though I say this now
I have a funny feeling I’ll do it again
And maybe you don’t even care
Or maybe you feel the same
All I know is that I don’t know

I feel like I’ve been a ******* sociopath my entire life and I’m just now realizing what emotions are
When I look back, I’ve always been selfish
My therapist said I had good reasons for that, but I never could except it
I used to be a wild child and even got thrown out of my fist daycare
Now I’m afraid people might reject me

When I look at you, I see pure confidence without ego
Yeah, maybe I’m a little jealous of you
But I’ll get there too
I think that’s why I’ve always been afraid to talk to you
I’ve felt inferior, and that’s not your fault

I tried to take some time to grow
But they say absence makes the heart grow fonder
And it did
And I started appreciating the time we had

Back then I felt like no one cared
Never realizing that I never cared for anyone else in return
It all makes sense now, but hindsight is 20/20

To me, passing by you is like passing by a celebrity
I don’t know what to do or say and I come up with 50 million reasons I should keep walking
This is so ******* stupid it’s its own level of *******, but I do it anyways.

If you managed to make it to the end of this, thank you so much. It means the world to me.

I think I keep my poems short
because your words
always meant less
the more you said

-em vidar

I loved that you didn´t
Care about me
Or my mistakes
Or my disease

I loved that you didn´t
Seem to pretend
That you were more
Than simply a friend

I loved that you were
As deadly as fire
And the only one
That I´d ever desire

I loved your excuses
So perfectly made-up

I loved you were hurting
When I finally gave up

Is destruction really so bad?
I mean
You can't build until
You've destroyed
Whatever was there
And maybe
What I am
Needs to be rebuilt
Maybe I need to face
My destruction
So that I can come back
Or maybe it's just
An excuse
To give in
And destroy myself