Sep 2010
It never made a difference what I did or didn’t say to you.
You didn’t listen to me either way.
I could have told you the truth all along and maybe
then it would have made a difference. But I’m too lazy,
and I’m too tired, and it’s about time I gave up for once.
You gave up on me straight away and I thought I could pull you back up.
I guess I’m not always right.
I guess I’m only trapped in what boundaries you give me.
You make me so angry, but its worthless pounding on the door of a sound-proof room. I did anyway, and it only made my knuckles raw.
You hurt me. Does that mean anything to you?
I found myself screaming.
I found myself losing it.
I found myself in the middle of nowhere, with no one, and nothing to say,
wordlessly livid.
Every thought inside if me no longer made sense.
It felt like I’d lost control of my own life,
all because I lost control of you.
I was simply a flea on a tick on a dog on a hill on an island in the ocean of the world, which is barely a speck in the universe.
I was a moment that no one heard—especially not you—
a tree that fell silently in an empty forest,
a lie that was told to a dreaming deaf mute,
a ransom held for 12:03 P.M. that no one can pay, that no one even understands.
I was a thought removed from a frontal lobe
(“Pass the scalpel,” whispered remorsefully from behind a doctor’s mask).
I was trapped in a memory you’d forgotten,
and it was all I can do not to be completely erased.
Remember me! I wanted to shout, for waiting was no longer hoping. In my own sharp memory, I was surrounded by ice. It was fierce, yet completely withdrawn into the open window of your soul. All I could see was debris and packed boxes, stacked upon each other in the clotted, fatal shape of a skyscraper. The darkness of your fond shape wrapped me within myself, when I thought I was wrapped into you. You led me down a path that you knew I would be lost on, and you left me there without a word.
I’m still stuck in this desolate world that we created,
and as soon as you think of me, as soon as you return, I will greet you:
“Welcome to every second in despair, every moment lost, every
minute growing angrier; welcome to the storm is coming, to running
from the monsters that aren’t even there, to burning fevers; welcome
to dead but alive, to quivering and empty, to uncomfortably full,” I
will say.
“Welcome to loneliness.”
You didn’t listen to me either way.
I could have told you the truth all along and maybe
then it would have made a difference. But I’m too lazy,
and I’m too tired, and it’s about time I gave up for once.
You gave up on me straight away and I thought I could pull you back up.
I guess I’m not always right.
I guess I’m only trapped in what boundaries you give me.
You make me so angry, but its worthless pounding on the door of a sound-proof room. I did anyway, and it only made my knuckles raw.
You hurt me. Does that mean anything to you?
I found myself screaming.
I found myself losing it.
I found myself in the middle of nowhere, with no one, and nothing to say,
wordlessly livid.
Every thought inside if me no longer made sense.
It felt like I’d lost control of my own life,
all because I lost control of you.
I was simply a flea on a tick on a dog on a hill on an island in the ocean of the world, which is barely a speck in the universe.
I was a moment that no one heard—especially not you—
a tree that fell silently in an empty forest,
a lie that was told to a dreaming deaf mute,
a ransom held for 12:03 P.M. that no one can pay, that no one even understands.
I was a thought removed from a frontal lobe
(“Pass the scalpel,” whispered remorsefully from behind a doctor’s mask).
I was trapped in a memory you’d forgotten,
and it was all I can do not to be completely erased.
Remember me! I wanted to shout, for waiting was no longer hoping. In my own sharp memory, I was surrounded by ice. It was fierce, yet completely withdrawn into the open window of your soul. All I could see was debris and packed boxes, stacked upon each other in the clotted, fatal shape of a skyscraper. The darkness of your fond shape wrapped me within myself, when I thought I was wrapped into you. You led me down a path that you knew I would be lost on, and you left me there without a word.
I’m still stuck in this desolate world that we created,
and as soon as you think of me, as soon as you return, I will greet you:
“Welcome to every second in despair, every moment lost, every
minute growing angrier; welcome to the storm is coming, to running
from the monsters that aren’t even there, to burning fevers; welcome
to dead but alive, to quivering and empty, to uncomfortably full,” I
will say.
“Welcome to loneliness.”
