You Improvise A Home By Street Lights

you improvise a home by street lights

act like the dark is welcoming enough

leave at the same hour day by day

noone really knows what you're doing

you don't really know what you're searching for

your sister calls it running away

you try to say it's anything but

who are you trying to convince

your sister calls it running away

your mother says it is alright for

you get back when it's getting late

your sister calls it running away

you don't think it's a run if noone's chasing

zero (me)

some time ago already, a month maybe

a cold night and a blue apartment

just the kitchen lit up and just me inside

the buzz of the microwave

and the holler of the wind

and the shake of my hand

and the poorly executed confession

"it's not back, not really. it's just

my brain is a scumbag and it just

wants me to go down, and i just

can't tell it to shut up every time,

you know"

and you didn't before

but you tried your best in the moment

you told me you will be there always

and I appreciated it, like no other

I swear I did

and you told me

"please call me if this ever gets worse"

no idea why, it came back like a curse

you still don't know, noone does, actually

I'll tell you the truth only when you ask for it

because you don't need this in your life

on another cold night, in a lit up apartment

I'm telling you goodnight, far too early

• "tonight I'm going to sleep hungry" - zero [me]

apparently I have 100 likes on this account, which is not exactly a lot considering how many things I posted but I'm still happy about it [:

around the dinner table

comes a story not so old

that they think does not

resonate anymore

about crooked floorboards

and cold water for months

and saving all your money

in order to save yourself

and when it ends they

hand you some cash since

these times are past us

but you know you're wise

and so put money in a jar

hidden from everyone

you have to save up

in order to save yourself

the times have never and

will never change

• savings jar - zero (me)

I'm sitting at a bus stop almost alone and I haven't been this calm in months

The same bus passed three times already but it's not what I'm looking for

And this should be it, this should be reason enough to write

but it's not

For I've been tired to my core and all I've wanted

Is to be held by the one adult person I let myself be known

For I need something bigger than my name. For I need someone who knows better than I do

But it's all futile and I can't bring myself to ask her for kindness

But it's all without point and I can't write anymore

"Nomen Omen, just like Moliére" - Zero (me)

what is a poet if not writing

what if not dead then

my hands ache when I grip a pen

but I refuse to let go

if there is pain there's something to cling to

then there is something to write about

if my hands break from the strain so be it

I will use them until I can't use them further

so may the ache never stop

so may the poets never die

so may the fire burn

so may I still try

• old bandages - zero (me)

i will pack up all my life

and leave memories behind

writing a few notes to friends

to make sure I am forgotten

I know I will die one day

my mum raised to believe

if I spill my blood it will be okay

but I won't do this here

I won't rot away

in the same fucking place

who made me die in everyway

i can't Die here- zero (me)

(writer's block hit me like a truck and my life has been so chaotically stoick I hate it. also it's a song draft not a poem but we will ignore this fact)