half boring stuff half shitty and gay lame emo "poetry"

older stuff

Ignorerar att inget gör mig glad längre,
jag bestämde mig ju för att jag ville bli gladare
stort badrum. visst är det mörkare än innan?
du sa till mig att vara försiktig och rör min axel ellerminkind som du gör varje gång jag säger något som skrämmer dig.
och det kommer inte bli som förut, men om jag är försiktig tänker jag för mycket
och ingen blir gladare av att tänka för mycket
tittar mig i spegeln. vågar erkänna att inget gör mig glad.
existerar i ett mellanting, en dimension som bara kan nås i ett halv-mörkt badrum.

ni gick så tidigt, allt gick så snabbt, ni är alla för försiktiga, är det här vad det betyder att försöka bli bättre?
jag tror inte jag har den sortens dedikering.
lägg tillbaka saxen. vänd dig om och gå iväg från spegeln. jag mår säkert bättre imorgon.


I wish i could skip out on christmas and go straight to the 26th. No extended family coming to visit so i have no excuse to hide in my room all day. I dont deserve any gifts and the ones i give are never good enough. They gave me a diploma the day i gave up and ran home. Awarded for my resilience but really i just got lucky. Praised because I endure when it's all I've ever done, I don't know how to live any other way. Truth is i am tired of enduring, tired of getting slapped in the face and being called strong because they looked away and didn't see me stagger.
How could I walk away when I can barely stand?
The weather was nice but i didnt go outside.alloutofsmokesysee.sowhatsthepoint.
Yesterday i thought maybe if i pretend im just acting, would it be easier to talk? Because i sat in the audience and dreamed back to when bare feet met chipped paint, bright eyes met gold lights, and i was still naive enough to believe we would see eachother more frequently than this. How many times has it been this year? Four, maybe? And each one either you or I were trying to get away. i cant look anyone in the eyes but especially not you. You've become so fictional, but that happens to most of us in time.
Because i sat in the audience, way back so i could see(or maybe so no one would look at me) Critiquing the performance in my head, nitpicking how i could have delivered the line & it was only then when i realized how much i'd missed the stagelights sweating down my face and blocking out the rest of the world so all i could see was golden light. is that what heaven looks like? The most bittersweet and forced metaphor had been right in front of me the whole time.