#secondpoem

It’s okay to cry if you don’t feel good,

It’s even okay to be sad if you don’t get your favourite food.

It’s okay if they are not here with you anymore,

It’s okay if you miss them,

It’s just that you don’t have to feel sour,

Because you know it won’t affect them.

It’s okay to fake a smile,

But it should last just for a while.

It’s okay to apologise if you feel like,

It’s okay if you feel like going on a hunger strike,

All of this just shouldn’t last for long,

Even if people blame you for being wrong.

Cause deep down you’re still aware,

That it would’ve been your favourite nightmare.

It’s okay if it hurts,

It’s okay if you still miss those sweatshirts,

Just don’t try to make it even more worse,

Because afterall you know the world is adverse.

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If only you would take it.

All that I have to give.

If only you would hear it.

All the things I say.

If only you would get it.

That what I say is truth.

If only you would love me

Losing a job, a friend, or

someone you thought may be all you wanted and more

Only to find they aren’t the one

Absence of sound

I lay here, absence of sound. I cry here, absence of sound. I beg here, absence of sound.

Black liquid running from my ears, staining my pillows, with shame,bitterness, regret.

Did I do this to myself?

The door´s the same, The wall´s the same, The ceiling´s the same, I tried to talk to them,

absence of sound.

They never reply, they just stare, with their painful familiarity.

It never says anything to me,

this wretched room.

Yes,you are different, with a human heart, making your way through the maze, I watch as the wind blows your hair, in funny ways.

We talked,and i heard nothing.

Your mouth was moving, Your eyes were flickering, squinting in the blinding light, Your palms hot on my cheecks.

But it´s like you were never there when I´m alone again.

The ghost of you sleeps far away, from my resting place.

It listens to the laughter of his friends, and the dances of the wind, it scarcely remembers me.

Everyone around me seems to hear something i don´t. I sit in the corner, too tired to try.

No,i know I´m not alone, but,maybe I don´t know.

i´m feeling like a show off , telling you how i feel. It can never come out, sounding like it´s real.

I know what´s to come, wherever I´ll go. The absence of sound, chasing me. An invisible storm, raging on inside of me.

April turns to May, running in grey circles, when a whisper rings in my ears.

Then it goes off again, but i hold on to the sound.

I wait,try to chase it, I stop, I want to erase it.

And then,I hear singing, a serenade of love,

how is it, i´m dreaming, once again.

Later, a choir,fiddles,cellos and harps. now flowers grow out of my ears.

I don´t want it to stop, I hold on to it so tight, my knuckles are white.

sometimes,i´m there again,

but i remember now, and i smile weakly at the silence, it will come around.