Saturdays

I hate saturdays
Saturdays are just
a reminder of how much
of nothing I am
I love the quietness
and I hate that I love it
My love for the quietness
is the reason I have
all this nothingness
I’m not moving
I’m just withering
I’m a leaf
hanging on to a branch
in late autumn
I will never find
what saturdays can bring
I will die alone
on a monday morning
A day like any other
A nothing day
for a nothing life

The pink and cool jacket

I’ve tried countless times to write a poem that describes the feeling of losing you to death
It just can’t be done
How can more than a decade of friendship be summarized like that
Impossible
All I can say is that I miss you
I sleep beside your pink and cool jacket every night
I keep it by my side in the day
I wish my time could come sooner
Maybe we could meet then

Couch is home

I sleep on the couch all the time
But I do have a bed in the other room
The bed is for good days in life
That’s why I never sleep there no more
Passing out on the couch
Dying alone on the couch
Movie dialogues are lullabyes
I’ll die to the credits at the end
At least I ate some pasta
Made by my own fucking hands
Entertainment and movies and couch
It’s killing me slower than time
And people would kill for my life
So why can I not be okay?
Maybe my couch has the answer

Junk food and dark

I’m eating junk food in the dark
I’m crying because I don’t feel
A multiplayer game is on
But I don’t wanna play it anymore
I need to fuck myself up
Because I don’t plan on surviving
An accident or a gun to the head
Whichever is fine by me
Maybe something will happen tomorrow
When I’m buying more junk food
Otherwise it might happen in the dark