SSRI

all my friends

tell me

that I have less

of sharp edges

since I take

the pills

it's different from

the inside

where I need

to put on post-its

that shower

should be done

at least every other day

and that pyjamas

aren't acceptable

in the public places

but apparently

I have less

of sharp edges

and most of the time

I lack the energy

to even think

about

the suicide.

I guess

that's a win.

fish

my lips moved several times

during that night

trying to form the shape

of the words I needed

but the sound

didn't arrive

so I was just standing there

more like a fish

mute

suffocating

with the oxygen

and with the cold hands

you held these hands

later on

trying to warm them up

and pretending

not to see

that something broke in me

and now

my Inside

is slowly leaking out

onto the pillow

my lips moved

for the last time

- a sound appeared

a short and a very quiet

howl of the animal
that hurts

you can live with that

there is this white fog around me

and it makes everything

so unreal

and so distant

I guess I don't care

anymore

even if I am sad

and I can't really tell

because I am so far away

from myself

but -

- even if I am sad

it doesn't really matter

anymore

simply because

nothing really matters

anymore

something hurts a bit

in my chest

but it is also

not very important

a lazy thought appears

that it's probably

my broken heart

- it's OK

you can live with that

wubbalubbadubdub

1. my head is fragile

and I don't want you

to cut yourself

when it falls apart

2. I'm not in love

with you

not because I can't

but because I know

then I'd have to leave

(I'm not ready yet)

3. when you have bad dreams

I kiss you and stroke your hair

it seems to work

in the morning you

never remember

any of that

4. at the night time

I sometimes get scared

and start to fall

if you are next to me

you whisper to my ear

that it's OK

5. you are not in love

with me

because I am full of

red flags and lines

not to be crossed

- but you hold my hand

when I fall asleep

(that's a lot)

6. we are bad in waking up

and leaving the bed

there are still

few months

ahead of us

7. I like your eyes

they are green

most of my favourite things

in life

have green eyes.

otters (I have cut my hair)

when I said

I am going to cut

my hair

I tried to tell you

something

but maybe

I was too vague

now it's too late

and with my head

so much lighter

my heart got

so much more heavy

and there are

no more words

I can now

comb my hair

for the very first time

in months

and I feel bad about it

I stay up all night

because sleep felt

so much better

with my hand in yours

violence

the shadows under my eyes

have violent colour

in the not entirely clear way

- they suit me

the brown and blue circles

are what makes

my face mine

- same way the old scars

make my hands mine

or faded tattoos

that cover one of my legs

make this leg also mine

...

I know

that there is also violence

and plenty of violets

in the way my fingers move

when anxiety starts to

fill my body

or in the pulse of my heart

fast and always in a

sort of panic

- there is no reason for it

...

my dreams are always short

happening already after

the end of the world

I breathe easily over there

and for a moment

even my elbows

don't have sharp edges

and feel like

made out of a foam

dawn

it's already bright outside

and I really try not to think

about all of the reasons

why we should call it off

instead I try to think about:

elephants and how they never

stop growing

parallel evolution of

homo sapiens sapiens and 

homo neanderthalensis

how to fix my bed

so it doesn't scream

in its wooden voice

when we have sex

when it doesn't quite work

I try to think

about something ugly

about you...

but the only ugly thing

I've managed to find

is the fact that you

like me

sky turns

into something

soft and white

I switch off my phone

in the one

final attempt.

morning