i always think about being someone else;
wearing another person’s face,
living in their skin,
being recognized not by the name
that i go by every day.
i have a lot of versions of me
in my head,
and all of them are way better
than who i really am.
and it’s another way to show disgust
to your own existence:
to imagine yourself living a happy life,
getting everything that you want
in your head
when in reality, your physical body
rots and smells like something
that will traumatize
every nose that will get to take a short sniff
of your shirt.
and then you’ll realize
how pathetic that is,
so you’ll start motivating yourself
to do better things
than just wasting your time
thinking and thinking of the possibilities
instead of making them true.
but in the end
you’ll still go back to what you do
because you feel so hopeless
and sad
and the only way for you to feel alive
is to imagine.
the pictures in your mind are wild
and lively,
they feel so real.
then you’ll wish to stay in there forever
because it feels a lot happier
than trying so hard
to live the life
you didn’t
customize.
YOU ARE READING
Found This Book Somewhere In The Forest
Poetry"Talk to my soul later midnight, when the moon's at its peak. That's the only way of communication that I know, because my physical lips will stutter if I told you about how I want to tear my human skin apart and go out."
