AN: My boyfriend should get some major credit. I love him to pieces. Uhg, I miss him so much... This is for every time I went too far. This is for the times we fucked in the car. This is for the moments that we share, and all the things that aren't there-- the things … Continue reading For You (Poem)
My ways are odd, my thoughts are not, my feelings drag behind. My face, it melts. And the pain it helds, goes well with my mind. My complains are harsh, my mask a farce my hope is far astray. My bones are cold. My dreams are old. Will I ever find my way? Today … Continue reading Complains (Poem) + You Can’t Bitchslap A Hallucination
AN: I'm starting to think I should turn this blog into my personal little online poetry book. Oh and the poems are basically a conversation between comedy and tragedy. Because bipolar. Comedy … Continue reading Comedy And Tragedy (Poem)
AN: In group therapy, what other people say can be very confronting, and not everything is nice to hear. I speak yours, you speak mine, and everything's fine, untill your pretty words and phrases burn my weakest spots like lasers. And I hurl my words at you, as if they'll shoot right through the holes … Continue reading Language – Poem
"I'm so happy, 'cause today I've found my friends; They're in my head." I think everyone remembers the Nirvana lyrics from their song "Lithium". But since a week I know what it's really like to take it. And it's really weird: In the beginnings, it only seems to kick in a little while after you … Continue reading Lithium.
AN: Based on a starter from Pinterest. That's how little I have to do. Oh and the song sung is Cibelle's cover of Tom Waits' Green Grass. It matters because it does. Hope you like it; I haven't written like this in a loooong while. It's about why we do what we do (on an … Continue reading The (Nec)romancer ❤ – Short Story
As untouchable as stress Memories are as untouchable as the future is. That part of me, that's filled with grief is the one I also miss. My ghost is like the wind, I guess as invisible as love, and yet he fits me like a glove. He's always silent, always on the background, no sound … Continue reading My Ghost (Poem)