The old threshold is

not worn out, my visitors --


step right over it.

The wind lashes rain

on the windowpane, so nice --


that I am inside.

I keep my past close with old photos
And yawn at the present
Waking up to the time i've wasted
The pirate that fidgets
Listening to the snapping of veins
Irate frozen views
I complain that I spend my days complaining
And that nothing is changing
But I don't make myself a catalyst
Struggle to find bliss within a cage I am comfy
Constantly confused on the want to be free

Ferocious and hardwired to be inspired
Flying on the gateways of promises that dance tempting
Fermenting memories in mistakes
So slinky sad and suddenly
I've given years to hibernate
All I do is flake and harden to my fate
No eagerness to liberate my procrastinative state

I keep my journeys stretched between boredom and boundaries
Im moody till boredom outgrew me
Deaf to the tones of disappointment
That hit like stones thrown ashore
To a child that only wanted to be more
Than a heartwarming second smile
An underachiever
Stagnated believer
Prospects zero
Sullen to be unstuck
From reveries of a hero

Home is where your dog sleeps on the couch
Or on your bed
Or wherever he wants

Home is the smell of familiar foods
On predictable days
And the sounds of familiar snores
At predictable times

Home is where you can have pizza and a cookie
For breakfast
Popcorn for lunch,
and pancakes for dinner.

Home is where you know where everything is
Tape is here,
A ladle is there,
And rain boots are in the hall closet

Home is where you hear
Familiar creaks in the floor
and
Slams of the door

Home is your
nest
den
cave
habitat
sanctuary

Things I miss

Once I looked at you
And you looked back
Made eye contact
Saw me.

Now,
Six years has passed
And we’re still
Together.
Stuck.
Together.

And you don’t see me anymore.
I miss the
Security
Of knowing how
I fit
In your world.

Now,
I just watch.
You don’t look.
You don’t see.

But I guess I’m just too much emotionally, huh?

I do not know how to not spiral. I don't know how to catch myself when I fall. I don't know how to put up my hands and make the darkness turn to light. I don't know how to sleep when tonight won't strike 12. I can wait, but then I sit. Waiting for the moon to tell me that it will be the last thing I see and it will be beautiful. But what if I cant bring myself to believe it? What if 12 never comes? What if it never leaves? What if Im stuck there? What if theres just always another 12 to wait for in the inevitable tomorrow? What if I dont make it there?