again,
this deep well simmers
this deep well of nothing
why did i even think that i was
cured,
well,
or any less empty
just because i had more things
to distract me

almost thought it doesn't consume you
as much as it did
this is what growing up was supposed
to be like, right?
everything falling into place.

new years eve I realized,
i may really well be the one
to die

there is no clear transition,
not one i noticed anyway
triggers caused at eighteen are not the same
as the triggers at twenty four
I don’t know if that’s better

when will I get over the need to make something of myself?

what i want is only a collection
of what reflects back to me
as i find my purpose in being alive.
you can only do so much with the resources
you are born into

I do not have enough to be free

do you think, when god created us,
they immediately realized their mistake?
the angels must have hated us
they should
they do.

imagine being the perfect epitome of a being,
only to be cast aside for those who create nothing but unbridled chaos.
"it’s what makes them perfect"
they said once, when one of the angels asked about it
"the chaos?" Gabriel asked
"their humanity."

i'm convinced none of them understood exactly what “humanity” means,
and we don’t either.

the day that i reach the end of the road,
when i meet earth, and my soul is the only thing left
and it just so happens
that the god I write about turns out to be real,
i hope they let me ask this question just once

You know that old saying
"Actions speak louder than words"?
Well, I've learned to observe
the behavioral patterns
of when our conversations
become a burden.

I am a professional at
reading the signs
of unamused eyes
and you just stare
right through me.

I guess that is fair play.

After all, I used to say
too much
and you cared
when you could.

Foolish of me to think there would
ever be a middle.

We left on words
misunderstood
and nothing more
would follow.

You had a boundary
that I overlooked.

I guess
"hello"
was all
it
took.

I do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,
in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

the shadows the sun cast when it rises,
way beyond down
there I am

stuck as a soul can be on a plane not meant for the unsure,
I grab onto other souls who know what to do with their existence,
and ask, is this for me too?

no, no
it doesn't feel right
breathing here doesn't feel right
every breath feels forced, just to survive, because i need to.
but they breathe because they've found it

the purpose of their souls,


I think mine was lost.