Crappy poems for crappy times

af Gæst Tors 4 Maj 2017 - 21:15

Jeg blev vel inspireret til at vise nogle af mine digte <333

efter denne linje kan det være at man læser noget der ikke er super behageligt for alle. Så hvis du ikke er all in på melankoli og halv provokerende tekst, så læs ikke videre.

Samtidig håber jeg at det kan blive lidt af en terapeutisk oplevelse og lukke folk ind i mit kreative spektrum. Jeg står ikke ved det jeg skriver, så hvis i læser noget der bekymrer jer, så lad venligst være med at konfronterer mig (det er gamle digte det meste alligevel). Nyd mit crap Smile

))

Here goes:

you didnt understand
You didnt understand my feelings when you were trying to feel them
You didnt understand my feelings when you were trying to describe them
Feeling sad and empty is never easy and it's never the same
But you can never just describe the effect of feeling empty
Feeling empty isnt just a loss of interest or feeling lonely
It is feeling like everything that was once right, is now completely wrong
Everything that could make you happy, now feels like nothing
Everything that could make you feel anything at all, seems so pointless
So why even try?
Instead you thrive on the physical rush, the one that leaves horrible marks forever
Yet at some point that feeling will lose its rush and all is back to nothing
That is when the true horrible thoughts creep out from the corners of your mind
And only one way seem right - the end
And you didnt seem to understand it
But that's okay. I wouldnt want you to.

i am no longer scared
I am no longer scared of the dark
I am no longer scared of what could lurk in the corners of my eyes
I am no longer scared of passing strangers on an empty street
But
I am scared of the thoughts that are going through my mind
I am scared of knowing what I am capable of doing
I am scared that not even the darkness of the world we live in
Seems to beat the darkness of my mind
And yet I feel nothing
If I could just go back to being afraid of the dark again.

Helle Helle inspireret - Digt om et minde
Lyden af en glad mormor der griner, lyden klanger helt igennem den store atmosfære, et brændende lys, et stort hvidt rum, lyset brænder svagt, mennesker klædt i hvidt, mennesker som fører lyden væk, en stank af sprit, brystkræft, den smerte man går igennem, sorgen som giver en kuldegysninger bare af at tænke på det, hvide kister, stablet i et stort rum, lyden af gråd, duften af aske, de hvide kister er forsvundet og blevet til aske, asken i en potte, potten i jorden, lyden der forsvinder, lyset er slukket

af Gæst Tors 1 Jun 2017 - 1:25

headmess
My mind is conflicted, so I rest my head for now
My head is heavy, so I close my eyes and sleep
My sleep is disturbed, so I hide under my covers
My covers are now the lid of a coffin, it feels like being buried in the ground
I scream at the top of my lungs, yet no one hears
I scream till my ears are no longer at their pears
I scream and scream and scream, why does no one hear me?
Right until my mother tells me to shut up
And I sit down with the rest, to pretend like my mind isn’t a mess
Because no one likes a mess and if being a mess is the only thing I am good at
Then how could people like me? But they do, because of the pretend
Because I pretend not to be screaming inside my head, the mess, the mind, the rest
This poem makes much and little sense, but everything is subjective and we can never feel the same
But do you ever feel like your head is a mess and no one hears you screaming?
Because I do. But I pretend not to

Crappy poems for crappy times

Crappy poems for crappy times

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