But what
Happens when
I just don't want
To get help?
Like I don't want
To convince myself
To live longer

I'm so through with
The population,
Being human,
And being myself

It's like I don't
Want to stick
Around and see
If it gets better
I don't want
To get better

I want to be dead
I want to be nothingness

hopeless romantic here.
hi.
i know you probably tell your parents that love doesn’t feel like it does in the movies
it’s overrated
i am guessing that’s what you say
but i
ok, maybe i am naive
but i
i don’t think love will feel like it does in the movies either
it will be better
and i hold that hope in my heart
that one day i will walk out of a restaurant
and i will see a familiar face
because soulmates are real
(the ones who don’t have them, or so they say, their partner died or couldn’t cross the layer between love and selfishness)
they are real
i think so at least
call me stupid
hopeless romantic
yes,
that’s me
i don’t get offended by that name
i swear it gets better than this
it gets better
love makes it better
it might be hard
but what have you ever done that was worth your time that wasn’t hard?
huh?
i want another person to be my safety, my rock, my eternity
bathe me in their river
cause it gets better
it does get better
and love makes it better

please
take all the time you need with me
i have been waiting for forever
what’s a couple more weeks?

I want the air to surround me, hug me,
losing myself in its invisible arms
and therefore finding something meaningful
in its transparent substance.
I do not want to cower from the implications
that I am so dependent on this traceless vapour.
Make me crave you, I think, hoping it hears my wish,
welcome me as I so desperately want to welcome you.
So I stand paralysed staring into the unknown,
the endless vortex of existence,
hypnotising me with its mystery, torment and beauty,
divinity, chaos and serenity;
the paradox of living and reality.
To be a human is to be a reflection of the dazzling mess of life;
how can I not take in the wonders of the universe each time I inhale?
My breath is power, the air my hero,
it gives me strength even in times I fight ruthlessly against it.
What is this strange instinct, this stubborn ingrained desire,
this anonymous impulse that never changes or falters?
Why won't it tell me what it's here for, why it persists,
I want to be informed on what it has to offer me.
So show me, I say to nothing, come out and reveal your secrets,
stop your hiding and give me everything there is to know, consume, devour.
I want to be nourished with it, overwhelmed with it,
so show me that this life is worth living.
The vast and depthless road of reality stretches out for so long it scares me,
the plethora of choices, unlimited possibilities,
fear traps me, foolishly, I allow it to strike me
in every way, shape and form
even when I told it to do everything it can to excite me.
It kept its promise well it seemed, it obeyed my order,
now I'm stuck between two states, helpless and frozen.
It turns out I'm not really sure I can handle it.
It turns out I'm not really sure what I want, ever.

i am composed
of rotten pomegranates
a rich stench of sweetness emanates from my pores
loose-limbed,
i am glistening, in my prime, about to free fall into my own undoing, like a flower slick with nectar
just waiting for the bees to swarm
reaching towards the sun
and, in vain, turning towards you instead

and i'm crumbling into desecration,
my honeyed blood churning
tripled suns
I swear my body is illuminated
I swear that i smell of flowers
and i know that i have reached the point of no return

so tear me,
your slender fingers
severing me from everything
everything i'm rooted in,

tear me away from the dark musk of earth


and fill your senses with my loosened aroma
as i fall away from grace
crumble into fire

and turn away from the sun one last time

I got a Voldemort filled
inside my brain
a world exist where
door ain't remain.
A world governed by
testo and dopemine
everyday feel like making it rain
sleepless nights feel like jerking
aside the thoughts inside barking
futile because already gave in
flesh and bone
where sins cave in.

Feel like fly in Venus
ain't working out with Jesus
so lemme call out to star
bruh lend me few Winnie
to fetch me some honey
as i rather have pitch up deep than to sow and let it reap
thinking and thinking till it leads
to ******* scar that feeds
grooving epidermis making it bleed
it's like god handing out seeds
and I ain't getting one because of my deeds

Landline, laziness the line
bed's the mine
set foot there goes the crying
all i do is sit back and rhyme
hiding sorrows in these lines
hoping you'd save the day
like the Dre
back when shady was stray
Pray, I pray none's listening
is my existence so grey
pillow talking all night
only time i get to voice my say.

A wilting flower
that will never
feel spring’s warmth

The harsh winter is all it ever known,
in an unloving season
is how it leaves this world