two lovers making love in a Ritz room
life is heaven, but for whom?
a government official returns to his family
life is heaven, but for whom?
gods watch in pleasure from far up above
heaven is life, but for whom?

houses made of thin sheets of metal
life is heaven, but for whom?
wooden beds and endless drops of sweat
life is heaven, but for whom?

words of love and tender affection
life is heaven, but only for some
fancy dinners and bottles of wine
life is heaven, but only for some

as for the rest,
I needn't say

there is no future, and there is no escape
it’s now or never
i’ve never had this hollowness in my gut
where i realise there is no way out

i am trapped in this body but also forever
does that mean i’m trapped with this mind
i can’t go on like this anymore

it could happen at any moment
whether i go through the consequences then

i need to end this suffering
my head is so full i don’t know what i’m expected to do anymore
i just feel like an empty lifeless corpse

all i can do is float around and pretend to be a part of something when actually i'm not

i’ve lost the place i felt safe to somewhere i can’t see and don’t know if it’s true
i don’t understand it

but what’s the point anymore
if i’m going to end and all my friends are going to end
why not end now instead of suffering through day to day

i’m useless
worthless

i wish it was easier to let go
but i know it’s not easy
especially when no one can hear me

because i can only scream in silence

It is new to me
To feel happy,
To celebrate.

It is a foreign thing
To laugh
Genuinely.

Is this the new normal?
Rejoicing,
Experiencing heaven.

my heart
is a vessel
a gift from heaven
buried in abyss.

love contains an
insurmountable magic
unraveling fervent griefs
and
you are all what is left.

such a heavenly taste it has,
the softness of the intentions so inviting and warm.
I feel you smile against me,
oh how the sun will shine on this moment in my memory.

vastly different from when a kiss isn’t just a kiss...
such a hellish taste it has,
the roughness only being soothed in passing by spit.
your hands are daggers against my hips,
oh the poison of expecting more when you didn’t ask.