There's A Bitter Aftertaste For Every Word I Swallow

there's a bitter aftertaste for every word I swallow

there's a pit in my stomach but it turns at the sight of food

there's an imagine imbedded in my brain that won't go away

there's a fly in my room and I'm afraid it's after my rot

I haven't slept well since the last time I saw you

- getting worse - zero (me)

godless children in your churches!

and an atheist f*ggot is teaching them about life!

they are both so dirty and unworthy!

the priest asks for kids who wanna say a prayer

say it loud and proud for the whole church

in front of a microphone for all to see

a dozen little hands shoot up immediately in your eye sight

all of those tiny tired eyes sparkle with hope and faith

for they are still to learn that not even god loves them

the priest does not choose any of the precious children with tired eyes

he chooses a few ones that are dressed appropriately

for church and for the weather

for their age and current fashion trends

a boy who almost never talks drops his head and murmurs

"he's never chosen me yet"

oh is this boy to learn that it takes more than luck to be chosen!

an atheist is asked where god sleeps at night

the answer is far away, just in case

we were to riot at night and he'd have to take blame

an atheist is asked how do we get to heaven?

the answer is, how would I know

god has stated he hates people who love like me

my mother would tell you we get there beautiful and perfect

and I don't believe in your fairytale god

but I believe there's no more ways a child full of hope can be beautiful

but if there's a heaven

if there's a god listening

let death be kinder to these children.

let there be heaven, even if just for them.

let there be warm clothes and shoes without holes

let there be a death, kinder than men

let death be kinder than priests, who can only complain

how unraised they are,

as if we didn't know before

let death take their hands gently and not leave any scabs

let heaven be a place for a better start

• "kids tend to ask hard questions" - zero (me)

around the dinner table

comes a story not so old

that they think does not

resonate anymore

about crooked floorboards

and cold water for months

and saving all your money

in order to save yourself

and when it ends they

hand you some cash since

these times are past us

but you know you're wise

and so put money in a jar

hidden from everyone

you have to save up

in order to save yourself

the times have never and

will never change

• savings jar - zero (me)

i think I will die wondering

what you all really think of me

maybe on my funeral

give a speech that's literal

my last words probably will be

"I don't think you even knew me"

I'm so afraid to tell you anything

I guess I will die wondering

/

the spring had came

what have we became?

I don't tell you anything anymore

we're right back where we've been before

looking out the window

I think it's even worse now

to contemplate my death

think of the last breath

when the sun is shining until late

it's something I grew to hate

/

so many questions in my head

and poems you will never read

why the hell do you even like me?

I ask myself that constantly

it's not that I don't trust you all

it's just that I can take the fall

once I'm gone you cannot cry

don't take the fall, just learn to fly

/

you tell me how you see me, still

it does not make sense to me

the most random of compliments

what have you even meant?

it just proves to me furthermore

how little you got to know me for

I know that it's my fault

your trust came to a halt

I wish I could tell you what I think

and when I try I just shrink

in on myself and just decide

it's gonna come out when I die

• you never knew me/things I don't tell you - zero (me)

[yes, it's a draft of a song. yes, i probably will never finish it. yes, i'm not okay. yes, that's the only reason i came back to writing]

some time ago already, a month maybe

a cold night and a blue apartment

just the kitchen lit up and just me inside

the buzz of the microwave

and the holler of the wind

and the shake of my hand

and the poorly executed confession

"it's not back, not really. it's just

my brain is a scumbag and it just

wants me to go down, and i just

can't tell it to shut up every time,

you know"

and you didn't before

but you tried your best in the moment

you told me you will be there always

and I appreciated it, like no other

I swear I did

and you told me

"please call me if this ever gets worse"

no idea why, it came back like a curse

you still don't know, noone does, actually

I'll tell you the truth only when you ask for it

because you don't need this in your life

on another cold night, in a lit up apartment

I'm telling you goodnight, far too early

• "tonight I'm going to sleep hungry" - zero [me]

apparently I have 100 likes on this account, which is not exactly a lot considering how many things I posted but I'm still happy about it [:

I choose to silence myself most days

I choose the end row of the train

I choose the seat on the back by the window

I choose to sit on the noisiest wheel

I choose to suffocate

I chose however to tell you today

I chose to be an idiot in love and be loud

I hope I'll make my mother proud

"choices" - zero (me)