Bitter - Blog Posts
2, 3 Promethazin gegen die Angst im Kopf.
In der Wand ein Loch.
Ich krieche durch die Schlacke, sie klebt
wie Teer an meiner Haut.
Es ist kalt und eng, doch ich brenn',
fühle mich beklemmt.
Ich ersticke, dicke Luft, kein Licht, weiter
bis zum bitteren Ende.
Bastard,
they called you
As if the lack of father is a curse
(It is not)
Murderer,
they called you
As if the ones you killed deserved any less
(They did not)
Darling,
she called you
As if her gentle words would be enough to save you
(They were not)
Cursed,
you call yourself
What do they know,
of broken souls and
breaking hearts
mothered by a broken promise and
sired from a broken vow
(Nothing. They know nothing.)
— y.c.
I bet fucking Robert Downey Junior is gonna be casted as Tommy Maximoff, just yall wait
No matter what I'm always gonna put in the same amount of effort even if the other stops.
Poison
Beneath moon's lament, her laughter ebbs to tide,
a river's course to shadows, deep and wide.
Ensnared by currents, I struggle to withstand,
drowning in thoughts, that bind me to this land.
Her memory, a poison, I drink with bitter lip,
my poems, mere mirrors, of each somber sip.
by Weltenasche.
Say what you will, but there is no fucking thing on this earth worse than caring so acutely, so painfully, about your past with someone who has so clearly left you behind to fucking rot.