zeropoems - zero
zero

`a self proclaimed self destructive poet `bad poems for bad times `報復性熬夜

77 posts

I Think I Will Die Wondering

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]

  • freebirds-poet
    freebirds-poet liked this · 1 year ago

More Posts from Zeropoems

1 year ago

gone are the times

when you couldn't sleep

not knowing where I was.

and now this home again

is just as cold as i have

remembered.

I come back from the snowfall

to see my brother leaving and

to you sleeping soundly as ever

and I cannot be upset at any of that.

but I just wish growing old wasn't so hard

• "turning seventeen" - zero (me)


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1 year ago

I can't believe it all

how great I've been

and I've been

sleeping thru all nights

without shedding a tear

and I've been content

in the choices I've made

I haven't skipped

a single breakfast in a while

and I prayed every night

without swearing at all

I've gone out with friends

almost every single day

and I came back before

it could get too dark

and I've been fine I swear

I'm just a little tired

but it's nothing

tonight I'll go

way earlier to bed

• lies I told my mother - zero (me)

actually, yet again it's a song bit, but I thought I'd post it


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1 year ago

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)


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1 year ago

you improvise a home by street lights

act like the dark is welcoming enough

leave at the same hour day by day

noone really knows what you're doing

you don't really know what you're searching for

your sister calls it running away

you try to say it's anything but

who are you trying to convince

your sister calls it running away

your mother says it is alright for

you get back when it's getting late

your sister calls it running away

you don't think it's a run if noone's chasing

zero (me)


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1 year ago

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)


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