There Seems To Be A Universal Understanding

there seems to be a universal understanding

of the fact that no good life was a good story

good lifes make good examples and I make

poetry and bonfire stories that can't go unheard

and I am glad for all the harm that was done

to me and only to me, for maybe it was better

to make my life worse and my poems relatable

noone reads poetry when they're alright, and

more so noone ever writes poetry when happy

maybe the stars aligned in this way for every poet

maybe god made us with a bigger purpose, than

any mortal happiness, made us for eternal things

written in ink and lived through in our own blood

- zero (me)

[ I finished writing my poetry book and I just know I will hate all of them in a year or two. I am never proud of my poetry. my mind is a burn book ]

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)

how am I to write of things so beautiful by themselves

there are yellows lights outside and blue fluorescent lights

there was a man on the bus who was so obviously an addict

he's found a teenager's phone by his seat and told his every move to a woman he didn't know for

"he's had too many problems already to steal anything really"

there are yellow nights of laughter and blue strangers who weep in churches

there is a part time job of mine at a flower shop

and I can't explain how throwing out stem cuttings makes me the happiest I've been all week

the world's poetry writes itself and I feel useless in my craftsmanship

"poetry in breathing" - zero (me)

the universe is screaming in my face

I stand under a clear sky and beg

beg it to let me feel at home

I get awoken at night to look to the sky

and see constellations I cannot read

the universe is screaming in my face

but numbers and stars aren't my language

and I was taught there's only one god

- zero (me)

(I've been slacking in posting poems because I'm working on a project that needs me to write poems in my native language, and those don't do well on Tumblr. not that anyone missed them)

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 [:

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)