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
Tag: poetic
Good day
Hey,
I just realized
that today
was actually a pretty damn good day
Things went well
I had a good time
The world had some colours for once
Maybe today is proof
that it is at least possible
to have a good day
sometimes
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
Walls are friends
I feel invisible
Sometimes it’s nice
Most times it’s dull
Boring and dumb
Scrolling on my phone
A meme, a video
Nothing is new
Even if it’s new
What is the point
Doing by yourself
I’m in distress
The walls must know it
But they only stare
Making pasta
I haven’t made pasta for a while
I only had the dried ones to eat
I had no energy or will
To make that pasta dough by hand
Today I’m making pasta again
A sign that I’m back on track
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
Going home
I can’t go home because I know
when I come home it will begin the end
The moments fly into a cage of memory
and there it stays and never grows anymore
I’ll sit and think and I will be blind
as life is being lived by someone else
Moments end and life continues forth
This life is moving, I can feel it moving
It really hurts, but now I’m going home