White boy
With your inherent privilege
Straight.
White.
Boy.
Privilege.
Please, make another joke
About ****** harassment
No, really
It's funny right?
Especially because you're joking that
Your male coworker is sexually harassing you
Gay jokes are funny too, huh?
Ironically,
That's the same male coworker
Who I had to explain
Just hours beforehand
How the ****** encounter he described
Did not include informed consent
How fitting.
So,
White boy,
I'm curious how you'll fare
After I told the manager
About the content of your jokes
(Not the proudly homophobic one,
Luckily?
Right.)
Who then looked uncomfortable
But seemed pleased when I told him that
I had already called you out
Because that means he doesn't have to
Because he wouldn't anyways
It doesn't affect him
Just some harmless humor
Ok.
So then I tell my coworker about your joke
Who then responds with:
"He's still doing that ****?"
Apparently so
Apparently.
So.
Because no one there seems to care
About jokes that put me
The only person at work read as a girl
(Which I'm not by the way)
In an extremely uncomfortable position
Why is no one else uncomfortable?
Why does no one else say anything?
Right,
They're all like you
Or they don't want you to judge them
Because you have that power
Because you're a
Straight.
White.
Boy.

I do not know at all
what does it mean to know
I do not know what I mean
I do not know what it means to lie
and give truth and truth
which does not exist at all
and there was never in the world

I do not know what it means to be
to be or not to be but possible
be smart or stupid
that's just how the question stands
that's just how you can be
great if we are already at the same time
greatness and awfulness
inferior worth

I do not know I do not know at all
what does it mean to know and be
I do not know what it's like to be
and I do not know what is nothingness
what is happiness and what is
misfortune in this world
and even light for me is emptiness
remains empty until the end of life

25.07.18

just say it,
you don't want me like I want you
you slip between my fingers
like sand,
I start to grip
and you slip right though
until all I'm left with
is little grains of you.

you'd walk away,
and never turn back
you'd forget about me almost instantly
cut me off, delete me from your life

in fact,

I wouldn't be surprised if you've already started
had your fun before you departed
and now, like weaning an infant off
a mothers breast
slowly and surely,
you'll put this to rest.

you say you love a writer but
these words could never be true
for you don't want me,
like I want you.

I always want things to mean more than they do.

I died yesterday, by my own hand,
And now here I am;
Standing like a ******* idiot in my kitchen,
And craving cornflakes.

The reasons why I did it seem hazy now;
All the buttoning and unbuttoning seemed to much,
Or else a love had left me,
And now I can't even grasp a bowl.
Stupid! That's what it is! Pure stupidity!
And I just want some ****** Crunchy Nut!

The bathrooms off-limits now;
It just makes me angry to see myself lying there,
No longer able to help anyone, least of all myself,
And that body didn't seem to care
About my cereal lust.

So here I am; staring at the cupboard,
But unable to open it,
and I don't even know if there's
any cereal left in the ****** thing anyway.
All those stupid myths about ghosts walking
Through walls was wrong apparently;
I'm just slowly fading away.

So here I am; craving cereal like a spoon.
The stupid spoon that I'm unable to grasp;
That seems to chortle, facelessly, at my attempts.
And being forever angry at that
Stupid idiot in the bathroom
For whom I feel nothing but contempt.

Silence,
beautifully cherished between soundless glances
or love locked eyes
of after sheet trances.
for you once said to me,
“silence my dear,
is not the absence of sound
but the presence of something else.”
both capable of taking me to my greatest heavens,
or paving my quiet path to hell
this fact and uncertainty both
fills me with joy
and frightens me to my very core.
for it feels as if you’ve taken my words for nothing but fairy lore.
yet, I stay mute
I’ll sew my lips shut
stuck in this purgatorial
entrenched rut-
deafened,
by the screaming silence.