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I wish I had never let go of the boy I loved as much as I am capable of loving someone, and I wrote so many poems about

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$cars shining like stars

i think $cars are beautiful

they show the history

of someone’s life

they can tell so many things

by just looking at them

i love my $cars

but i also hate my $cars

i love when someone notices them

asks me about them

but when i hear these questions

i feel like a fool for having them

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The €ut

why is it never enough

it started with few €uts

now i can’t live without it

it’s always on my mind

but now

i want to €ut my whole leg off

to stop the feeling

like it’s must be €ut

my leg looks like a €utting board

with no space between the $cars

i hate them so much

but i still feel like

i need to make some more

what do you mean “normal people”

don’t think about £ying after a bad day

just taking the ¥un and ending it all

i wish it was normal

to just €ut things out of anger

i wish i had never took the &lade

and made this first €ut

that changed my life forever

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Feeling, and feeling, and feeling

not feeling is like a superpower

you don’t have to worry about anything

or do you just act like it?

thoughts running around your mind

whispering and screaming

but you don’t listen

you just don’t care anymore

i wish i could not feel

even just for a day

to see how’s life

without these stupid thoughts

that worry about everything

every stupid decision

every stupid mistake

that makes you feel

like a 4ucking failure

these thoughts are eating me

from the inside

so maybe when you stop feeling

they stop to eat you alive

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Sometimes, I just let things happen even though I didnt want them to. I’m not sure why

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Love is &ullshit

looking at the old pictures

with tears running down my checks

his smile

his eyes

and all the memories come back

his hobbies

the way he talked

are things you can’t forget

they sit in the back of your mind

waiting for a moment

to just appear out of nowhere

i’m melting into his arms

but he’s not here

the distance is killing me

but is it the only reason this ended?

looking at the pillow

wet from all the tears

with understanding in my eyes

that he’s the only one

that really understood me

love is a cruel feeling

you hold on thigh

don’t want to let them go

because just seeing random stuff

reminds you of them

sometimes you have to let go

even though it seems impossible

sometimes when we miss someone

we think they were perfect

everything was perfect

but when they suddenly come back

you realise why they were really gone

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Make me feel something

i am just so 4ucking tired

when i’m with friends i can cover the hole

quiet down the thoughts

but when i’m alone

the hole keeps bigger and bigger

taking away everything single will to live

why do i have to feel this way?

why do i have to feel the emptiness?

is it normal?

am i being dramatic?

all those thoughts

and no answers

but deep down i believe

at the edge of your lives

we find the answers to all these questions

even though

the answer don’t always seem right

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Attempt in a minute

sitting in silence

my head banging against bathroom’s wall

holding a &lade close to my skin

trying to find a courage

a way to press down

and feel the comforting pain

along with slow heartbeat

you can feel the heartbeat

and after a minute don’t feel a thing

you can see the &lood running down

your pale hands

covered in scars

but after minute don’t see a thing

your mind is in a different place

you feel sort of safe

finally feel free

of your own mind

and the thoughts you can’t describe

but also deny

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Silence not always mean yes

sitting in silence

his hand $tabbing into her thigh

tears running down her cheeks

it’s like her mouth is covered

but she is able to speak

she wants to scream

beg him to stop

but her lips don’t move an inch

they’re sitting in silence

but her mind is full of guilt

he thinks nothing is wrong

but she thinks of €utting her leg off

to take away the touch

the warmth of his fingers

but she’s left with a feeling

that can’t be touched

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Poetry 4ucking sucks

why is it so easy to talk about things

that can be told only by the paper

I express myself in poetry

but whole is still there

my feelings are dragging me down

and i feel like a stray dog

threw into the lake

with rock around his neck

expressing myself in poetry

is like talking to a wall

the cracks make you fell

like it’s going to collapse

but at least the wall always listens

and catches all the details

of your 4ucking horrible life

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Why should I fight for a life I don't even want?