s o r r y
i was not?
you were a
but i just didn’t
know how to
connect the dots.
where do i
go from here?
I scream to the wreck of my mind on my knees
Pray for death’s innocence for my untimely release
When the hurt is too little, the numb is too much
When I want to feel more but I’m just too detached
“The disease is not real, you have no right to be sad”
Their way of caring is not caring when I start to get bad
Waiting to understand, when every time is just a relapse
Swing the pendulum again until lines on my skin overlap
And their laughter becomes a never happily ever after
I escape in the bedroom with that ugly mocking mirror
When home feels like choking fingers around my throat
I splash my face with dreams to convince myself to cope
Thinking that someday soon I will be just who I want to be
But when I say the words, it just feels like lip-syncing to me
I’m on the brink of the bottomless cliff, but I refuse to jump
Because a fool is just another fool waiting for the right bump
So I scream to the wreck of my mind to grow some wings
And pray for life’s corruption for me to be finally released
When giving up is too easy, and it’s difficult to fucking hope
I cling to what little miserable faith I have and try not to let go.
i could be
pains i feel
but then why
should i hide
in the words
that make it
all too real?
She was an exquisite butterfly
Her fragile and delicate wings
Shimmering in pastel colours
As it catches against sunshine
And I’m the withered daffodil
That she’s fluttered away from
After sucking all the sweetness
From my once-blooming bones.
i’m not the one at fault
but i’m the only cause you see
so i have to take the effect
what do you want me to do?
i’ve cut myself up until
both my mind and veins are drained
but not of all the guilt that i carry
and still, would it be enough?
would it be enough for you?
i’m just so tired of waiting
until i stop being such a fucking liability
and i start being your healthy host
that you parasites can ravage
just so i could atone for what i did
or at least just so you would see it that way
because what else is there?
saying “i’m sorry” when i don’t mean it?
that wouldn’t be enough for you, would it?
but then again, it’s my fault
for being way too fucking optimistic
i don’t accept good and bad luck
and that this time i struck out
no, it’s all about positives and negatives
call it a karmic irony, if you may
find a way to be a little happy for once
and life drags you down through 7 layers of hell
tell me, loved ones, was i never enough?
and i couldn’t even write about it
because you’d call me selfish and shallow
that i have no right to be depressed
because i’m living the “good life”
and that i see only myself in all this
well, of course i fucking do
i need to place myself somewhere
otherwise i wouldn’t see the bigger picture
but don’t you see, loved ones?
will you never see that i’ve had enough?
i am made of torn skin
and overplayed stereo songs
and a million miles to cali
and washed-out daydream colours
i’m lost; some would say gone
and my stares are silent dynamite
i remember what i throw away
again my tongue detonates
and i’m searching for meaning
in a world that’s as meaningless
as a crude april first joke
and not in the least bit funny
but i’ll keep on looking anyway
and maybe it will make sense
in some parallel universe someday
where time doesn’t wear my skin
and songs never sound the same
and cali’s just a tiptoe and half away
and the daydream never fades.