Are you afraid?

You’re right, 

Life is short

The future is uncertain. 

You know exactly what you want now.

We want things to happen the way we want them, but we cant. 

And I’m scared. 

I’m scared things wont happen.

Because an approval wasnt granted from both parties. 

Because the government stalls or finds a hole to bury our dream in. 

Because we’re not good enough according to our mamas.

Because of fucking high standards that we dont even give a shit about.

Because my life is shorter than we’d expected.

Because someone loses patience.. and -I’d rather not even finish this sentence. 

Because what “we were meant to be” actually referred to was anything but that step. 
But.. I don’t have a better solution than to wait. 

And I cannot go through another battle that is harsher than the situation we’re already in.

I can barely battle distance right now.

I dont have the mental strength to battle family, us, hope, and the chance for that dream to shatter so slowly in front of me. 

And I am terrified. 

I am worried.

All I want is for everything to go as we want them, 

Before it’s too much for you that it all becomes not worth the trouble. 

And I just want to remind you, 

My sweet Demon;

I have always loved you. 

And I will always love you 

in this life, 

the afterlife,

and in all the known 

and unknown dimensions.


Who states the rules?

And my dream is to save people’s lives.

But how am I allowed to,

when I couldn’t save my own?



Why do sinners cry

after they have sinned?

Do they think every tear

they shed

aids them in their plead of mercy?


i hope this battery dies.

Can Reality be like a battery that’s placed within me, charging this pathetic life?

If I find the source, could I extract it and get rid off it?

Will I freeze so there’ll be no more pointless pain to endure?

Can I hammer it, burn it, or make it bleed? Payback.

Can I ask it Why?

And, do I wait for an answer?


Empty intentions.

What are intentions if actions do not mirror them?


Burn marks

I have never scarred myself

with razors and knives,

nor will I ever think of doing it.

But lately,

I’ve been thinking about leaving burn marks.

After smoking my lifeless ciggies,

I could just stub them out on my body,

on the places that you have still not touched,

that are thirsty for you.

So if we ever meet,

let the burn marks guide you

to the places that have been longing for you.

But, then, will you still call me beautiful?

– With a body completely burnt.