There's A Bitter Aftertaste For Every Word I Swallow

there's a bitter aftertaste for every word I swallow

there's a pit in my stomach but it turns at the sight of food

there's an imagine imbedded in my brain that won't go away

there's a fly in my room and I'm afraid it's after my rot

I haven't slept well since the last time I saw you

- getting worse - 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)

there aren't any words in which I could put the purest act of your love that is sitting with me at night and listening to me complain about writing poems and songs

I hope you realise all the love in them is for you

there seems to be a universal understanding

of the fact that no good life was a good story

good lifes make good examples and I make

poetry and bonfire stories that can't go unheard

and I am glad for all the harm that was done

to me and only to me, for maybe it was better

to make my life worse and my poems relatable

noone reads poetry when they're alright, and

more so noone ever writes poetry when happy

maybe the stars aligned in this way for every poet

maybe god made us with a bigger purpose, than

any mortal happiness, made us for eternal things

written in ink and lived through in our own blood

- zero (me)

[ I finished writing my poetry book and I just know I will hate all of them in a year or two. I am never proud of my poetry. my mind is a burn book ]

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 [:

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)