in fits of delusion and hazy imaginings
you mean too much to me
and i find myself shaking and stumbling but you filter through effortlessly
will it end when you’re gone?
will i think clearly?
will i forget?
will i breathe again?
when loose hopes are terminated
and there’s nothing except what i wish had happened
i wish it had happened
nothing works anymore.
trembling and useless.
stumbling and misshapen
what a fucker it’s become
in the sliver of time between midnight and a minute past
there is nothing but the sound of your voice
and a nostalgia i have never felt before
it’s apprehension and sadness and an overwhelming anxious desire
pulled together with a dash of inexplicable giddiness
compressed inside a fragment of time
i grasp frantically at fleeting emotions that wrap themselves around a slow beat
those that linger throughout a muggy day
but at a minute past,
it’s just smoke and a scent that fills me
it’s one in the morning and this has happened before
i can feel routine etched into my skin
but slight grooves have gotten deeper
and there are dimensions swirled around a stretched complexion
i know this feeling
i’ve felt it bubble beneath my chest and trickle from my eyes
but it’s strange all the same
it’s a word
pounded and abused
a sliver on your tongue that flits gently between your teeth
repeated so many times that
suddenly it’s foreign
with strange accents and a different emphasis
familiarity has overstayed its welcome
and all at once
i know nothing at all
one day she met a boy
they fell in love behind thick lenses and stacks of books
she loved the way he slipped his pencil behind his ear
she loved the way he shook his leg when nervous
she loved the way he loved her
innocently and unconditionally
but boys are not stronger than hunks of metal
and the heart she stole stopped beating
soon even thumping inside her chest was broken
though there wasn’t much left in the end
she met a man years later
and he gave her desire
so she gave him a child
under wedding bells and sheets of white
he promised to care for her
to care for them
all her petty human desires he took and carried
but not the love she wanted
she craved his affection but it was sparse and fleeting
soon eyes were wandering and chips of her heart flew away
months later she met a child
with her eyes and his hair
little and squirming about
but she felt nothing
there was nothing left to give
because all pieces were broken and gone
and for all of her efforts
she couldn’t love this child
she knew three loves in her life
the one she lost
the one she desired
and the one she couldn’t give
when the lights finally dim
and all i see are dull shapes outlined faintly by dying stars
i can hear the faint drumming
maybe it’s my heart beating a little too loudly
maybe it’s the neighbors
but i hear the anthem of our desperation
the things we used to be
and the things i desperately wish we were
it fills a quiet room
rebounding from my dresser and desk
smothering and seeping into my fingers
it’s the jilted rhythm i can’t help but tap
when my hands refuse to be still
do you hear it?
I’m so tired of feeling alone
Because there’s so many feelings and fears that bounce around in my head
And sometimes they hurt
Because there’s too many somethings where nothing should be
And there’s too much nothing where I cry for something
There’s a barrier between what I see and what I am and everything is so fucking exhausting
Nothing’s wrong though
I should be happy
Why aren’t I happy
Nothing is wrong. Something is good.
But I’m still lonely and tired and everything is beautiful but I can’t feel anything.
I want to talk to you to remind me that I can be something more
That there’s more than the words that keep me company while turning me insane
Talk to me.
Take these words away from me.
They hurt and I’m tired.
Please forgive my terrible lack of eloquence because this place this terrible simple and awful place has driven me insane. I can no longer think properly and it should be outlawed for decisions to be made after midnight for one so utterly neurotic and ridiculous as I. Such choices ought to be demolished and forsaken for fear of irrationality. Irrationality. The terrible and awful thing I suffer from now. This very stupid moment now.
We are the time of confusion and pain and an endless procession of blinding colors
Cutting and pasting parts of ourselves to fit the puzzling spaces of the crowd
Iridescence bleeds upon futile attempts to forget the parts of us broken and torn apart
As remnants of lighter shades rub off the pieces left behind
We are the time doomed to loose ourselves
To fade into inexplicable mass of forgotten traits and chips of paint
The buzzing of the ever massing society clamors and demands attention
But openings and placements are oft concealed and moments of uncertainty dangle beside those comfortable few
Complacency beckons and solitude brims of soft amenity
Such that is never nurtured among the tatters of esteem and those that delight in their deconstruction
Oh, to be young.