i’m a loser

i’m a loser
i lose every fight
i haven’t
ever won

i’m a weirdo
i do not fit in
their gazes show
their disliking

i’m an outsider
cause i observe
their every move
while they eye me
uncomfortably

i’m a loser
i’m a weirdo
i’m an outsider
and that’s why
i’m so you unique

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even worse

you know the worse thing about all of this
is that i feel terrible.
but i’m not depressive enough.
i am not sick enough to be heard.
i won’t even recognize my illness myself.
i’m forcing myself through everything
still i do not feel proud,
it’s just something that i have to do.
so i just go through torture,
wanting to just give up and relax
but i’m not letting myself do it
and i feel even worse.
no one will hear my cry for help,
because i keep that facade of being happy.
but i am happy, at times, like at times i feel good.
but ask me if i’m happy with my life,
the answer is no.
but your life is good? there’s nothing to bed sad about?
“why do you have asthma, there’s a lot of air in here?”
see my problem?
know i have a good life. that makes it all even worse.
why am i sad? i should be happy?
the problem is i’m not. it’s not something you just can fix.
and i’m starting to stop trying to.

In a world

In a world where hope is shattered
day after day. i try to fix it
in an helpless attempt
but it’s never enough
and someone shatters it
the next day

My hope has shattered
to so many pieces
it’s hard to remember them all
and that’s why i’m missing something
and now i feel less hopeful
each and every day

so help me remember
brighter days that has been
and force me on the path
to brighter days ahead
for i am lost in eternal darkness
and i’m too weak and tired to get out

why do you all keep throwing obstacles at me
when i cannot catch them
nor can i get them under control
after them hitting me in the face
for the very third time i…
i fall to the ground and i give up

in a peaceful moment
i forget the dark clouds
until a thunder so loud
roars and shake my world
i remember the horror ahead
and i collapse

i’m sorry

i am a disappointment
i cannot care for my friends
or my family
because right now the fight
is in my own mind
and i feel so weak
so terribly stupid

i’m sorry
i am a failure
i am trying to do good again
i don’t even know myself anymore
i always thought i did
now i realize i do not at all
society has done its wonders i see

don’t come to me
don’t waste your time on me
i am not good enough for any of you
maybe i never was, maybe it was me
who was cursed one from the start
brought you all down,
i am a stupid child
until i’ve healed, until i’ve learned
don’t come to me

the mountain

for how long can i hold this facade?
i can’t take care of myself
everything is a mountain
and sometimes it goes well
other times the robe snaps
and i fall down and stop climbing
“i can’t keep climbing,
why should i keep climbing?
what’s there to climb for?”
i ask the mountain
but it’s only a mountain
it’s already designed by nature
all i can do is choose a path to climb
or walk around it.
if i walk around it, i will reach no further
but i don’t just want to look up,
i want to look down,
i want to smille at the view
but right now, after falling down
you just look at the robe
wondering whether to just
wrap it around your neck
and end it all
then you laugh at it
that is a thing you’ll never do
“that is a thing i’ll never do.”
i say to the mountain
slowly pushing myself up again
but i’m so tired… i’m so tired…
“keep going.” the wind whispers
“i can’t…”
i can’t…
the mountain will end
the mountain will end if i stop,
‘i can’t’ is too short
i need keep going
over hill, over rock, through deserts,
until i hit green, i will not stop
i just want to, i just need to
i’ll reach there broken and torn
i won’t remember the travel
as a good thing, i won’t
think of it as something nice
i’ll remember rainy days,
i’ll see their smiles and wonder
how i couldn’t smile as bright
as they could
when the mountain is climbed,
i won’t do it with good results
as the mountain is climbed
i will bring nothing with me
but my sorry soul in its sorry vessel
i need help, but i won’t ask for it
i can’t ask for it, “i’m strong enough!”
but i am not…
i scream, and my scream echoes
through the valley.
i’m stuck once again, and i look up
at dark clouds, seeing no sun…
i clutch at the robe that is broken,
i need help to reconnect it with the other
but i will call for no one, until i’m forced
to do it myself…

sentimental youth

Such a sentimental youth we have become,
angry screams floats through the cold winter air,
alcohol pumping through our veins,
laughter fills the summer night,
alcohol covers the ground.

Let me show you our silent moments,
of small talks, of daydreaming together,
the moments we run our hands through our hair,
frustration being lashed out on our parents.
and still we stay in one place.

But our dreams don’t lie here,
far, far away our spirits float around,
we only know the places through pictures,
and oh how we rather want a life there,
than being covered in scandals within our own families.

Forced to write words we do not care about,
forced to remember a past that has been,
re-written and folded into what they all want,
we want the truth, we want a new world,
and we’re kept from getting it.

We young people cannot start a war,
don’t you understand that, we’re already in one?
In our minds, in our bedroom we sit in one corner,
debating whether to choose eternal sleep,
or sleepwalking in a nightmare?

Such a sentimental youth we have become,
we find security in holding hands in the darkness,
love shown through bullying each other,
making each other laugh and smile widely,
another party awaits us next weekend.