I wish you were here,
Cherishing with me the beautiful view,
And I could tell you my dear,
I am so blessed to have you.

i'm not sure how to not feel like i've forgotten how to breathe
when i think of how you're having fun without me,
and the lost time you could be spending with me
wasted on other people.
it's selfish jealousy that riddles me with a heavy chest,
teary eyes, and it's pathetic.
but i love you to the point it hurts,
to the conclusion that i don't want anyone else in your presence.
but for now i'll stare silently at my wall,
trying to pretend i don't know you,
and trying desperately not to flood myself with
mindless wanting.
i miss you.
and i'm trying not to hate you for my own selfish reasons.

I knew a boy once.
He wasn’t anything special,
Just a boy sitting in the back of a noisy classroom.
Taking up space.
He wore the same T-shirt three days in a row
And he sat by himself at lunch.

Then I thought about myself.
I wasn’t anything special.
Just a boy sitting at the front of a noisy classroom.
Taking up space.
I wore the same sweater three days in a row
And sat by myself at lunch.

Maybe,
We aren’t anything special.
Just people sitting in noisy places.
Taking up space.
Wearing the same clothes three days in a row
And sitting by ourselves.

I swore I saw you 7 times this morning
Through sleep coated eyes
a fogged up car window
and the freckled nape of a neck that did not belong to me
But all they were were fragments
Sharp shards of fading memories and lingering lips and the way the 6am sunlight flooded your dull carpet
when we were both clumsily drunk in a golden morning haze of slurred "I love you"'s and the myriad of microscopic beauty neither of us could drink enough of
Your skin was all my mouth wanted
Your hands were all my body needed
And now the seasonal cold sends the same shivers down my spine and the familiar flush to my cheeks as your fingertips did when all I could think was how ******* far I had fallen
For you
I could never get closer
never close enough to you
Skin to skin
Heart to heart
And still not enough to satisfy the aching lust coating my lips or the stinging of tears in my eyes when I knew this was real
You are real
You are mine
But those chapped lips are not yours and those eyes are not the same shade of sad pale blue and you would never walk with your hands dead and lifeless and limp by your sides the way they do
Flashes of days long since passed and desperate leaks through a closed lid full to the brim with memories
Reminders that you are not here with me
you are not vacantly bumping into me on your way to somewhere significant with the illusion of importance
you are not cautiously hunched over a rigid steering wheel
knuckles white with the grip of your rapidly aging fingers focused on exactly how long you have left to live and the distance it would take for it all to just end
Each one is just an outline
of a past too surreal to have happened
To someone like me
With someone like you

at three a.m.
your breath should be
rounded
rising and falling
peacefully
calmly

like waves on a
smooth beach
but now everything
has fragmented
pixilated and
deconstructed.

your breath is being
dragged through your
lungs in triangles
half shapes without
softly curved edges or
serenity of form

gasps of air so
sharp they could
slit your own
dry throat
from the
inside.

and tears
so cold you
wonder if they're
shards of glass.

please
the next time
your body
becomes a vandal
against the windowpanes
of your mind

please
oh please
remember that
deteriorating
stained glass
can be taken down
from rose windows
by a master artist
and restored
pane by pane
each inch of leading
one at a time.

but repairing
is a process
and a process
takes time.

Now mind is clear
as a cloudless sky.
Time then to make a
home in wilderness.

What have I done but
wander with my eyes
in the trees? So I
will build:  wife,
family, and seek
for neighbors.

                     Or I
perish of lonesomeness
or want of food or
lightning or the bear
(must tame the hart
and wear the bear).

And maybe make an image
of my wandering, a little
image—shrine by the
roadside to signify
to traveler that I live
here in the wilderness
awake and at home.

Last night
I talked to you through
a tin can and some string.
You said you were okay
and then I was okay—
okay with everything.

Okay with everything.

something clicks
and i dont feel like living anymore
not that i usually feel like living
but at this time the urges to harm myself, the thoughts of suicide and death rise to the surface again
and i completely give in.
it becomes harder to smile,
harder to laugh,
harder to eat,
harder to be with others
i just want to be left alone but i want someone to be with me
my already confused mind becomes even more confused
whats wrong with me?
i dont know the answer..
its this episode again
not my usual depressed mood, not my usual emptiness
it is something more, something between the sadness and the emptiness
somewhere scary, and crazy
it is a place where you no longer see a purpose in living
where everything that is not very negative dies
and the demons in your head laugh and dance
my body feels week, my soul is too heavy
why am i alive again?
my muscles shake, my stomach aches, my head hurts, my eyes burn, my heart feels so empty
my hopes die, my dreams.. what dreams?
never had one of those
and the worst part of all of this
is not that i dont know why im feeling this way,
nor that im tired of being depressed every single day
it is when i know i have everything everyone wants in life, i have home, i have parents, siblings, money, education, health, faith, and yet.. i feel this way.