i cannot do.
make do i cannot.
to understand what makes only my surroundings happy.
what wrong keeps returning inside of me to leave me out?
envy those lucky and careless, i do, for i cannot
do no more than merely wish for a smile to spread,
not the numbness weighing down my chest, flooding the gateways of my veins with its poison like wet black paint.
i do not want to make this all i know;
its familiarity scares me.
what am i missing out on?
when sad longing eyes scan from the corner
over the strangers i do irritate myself seeing,
the fault in isolating myself is clear.
finding too many flaws and reasons to
throw away the key of eternal joy.
why do i do this to myself, thinking about
how upsetting it is that i find it sad how
i am not alive only in dreams.
my mind begs me to stop all this from happening.
it needs a get out jail card, but unfortunately these types
do not come for free.
because i cannot always feel what others feel.
i am cast out from having too much fun,
and jealousy accomplishes so little.
but indulge in too much pity i refuse.
the universe doesn't care about anyone
it does not keep promises for anyone.
believing in its reliability to keep you feeling
wanted, and with purpose and worth
is not worth it.
it does not stop for anyone
especially not to make sure i am feeling okay
on this gloomy monday morning.
i would rather be anywhere else.

i know nothing more than the
crippling weight of my self hate
the familiar bitter taste of pity
i spit out in doses as i laugh in mockery
but this time i could learn
how to sink into someone else this time
learn to unpick their seams
to crumble and unravel and fall apart for me

i am burning inside.
don't get too close, you'll feel the scorching heat,
the flames that flicker warning you of the ash to come
i beg you to run away yet strain my hand tighter around yours
(fingertips blackened; a mirror to the soul)
while certain a finger of two is breaking, and not stopping.

i am the embodiment of hurt.
i'm a mess of splattered nonsensical pain
i want you to hate me yet i do not want you
to hate me
or leave me.
i want to leave the fire started in my chest
spreading its destruction
but that would be the desire for something impossible
and that is laughable. like me.
like you ever loving me properly.

because no matter how many salty tears i cry
the pathetic attempt to calm the flames
i only create an ocean we both drown in
i am the anchor to your sinking  bombed ship
pulling you down with me
i am the coat i never want you to take off
even though the heat is overwhelming.
and i want to keep you safe from me
but in my mind, the thought concludes to the action
of adding more layers.
and then the seams
burst.

i am sorry you love me.

I’s gunna say
I’d hafta wanna,
So, omina say no.
I know I coulda
And prolly shoulda
But I wouldn’ta
‘Cause I gotta
Kinda take a chanceta
Be a wannabe.
Not a useta was,
But a gunna go to guy.
Still I liketa never
Gotta break yet.
But I’m tryna.

Winecha common?
Wotsa prollem?
Youc’n do it, cancha?
Tryna kid me?
Tryna trick me.
Wotsa mattayou?
Crazy inna head?
Shoulda stood in bed?
Eye ainna gunna
Letcha **** me
Lyka dummass
Jess causeya can.
Eye aindat kyna guy.
Eye ainno fool, er you?

So, omina skip it
Jess fergit it
Eye ain doinit.
No way ** say.
Say wotcha gotta
Wotever ya wanna
But omina do thangs
My own way.
Not gunna play.
Nuttin youc’n say
Gunna change me,
Make a differnse.
So, jess go way.
Look fer sumthin
Er sumone else
At wantsta play.

I attend classes in a black hole that was specified for some strange form of learning that promotes negativity and speaks of no past and no future but simply present yet devoid of meaning and spun together by the hour and minute hands of space that will tick and spin and tick and spin and tick and spin in limbo until the end of time and until the end of limbo so everything will cease to exist except the black nothingness and lack of a limbo to tick in thereof which actually isn’t black nothingness at all because if the nothingness exists then it by definition is not nothingness due to the fact that nothing is nothing but nothing is also something at the same time which is quite puzzling but when the outer shell of the idea is stripped away and the core meaning and thought process are taken into consideration then you’ll realize that the human race and all of it’s stupid little emotions run a fairly linear path in comparison to a situation such as this because we and all of our stupid little emotions are literally meaningless to the universe and we are nothing to it and yet we exist for unexplained reasons so we are what we truly fear the most and we are what eats the beauty of our galaxy and we are what drinks the blood of the angels and demons that tap dance in the back of the human mind and at the ends of every ***** finger that strokes church pews and the faces of other gods and dear gods and other gods we are your legacy that has burned itself to the illegitimate ground and like cuts upon your holy wrists and books we as your sons and daughters challenge you to climb down from the clouds and see what has been done to your lovely earth that has now been bathed in corruption and turned into chaos by the very idea of that which we find salvation in because honestly i bet it would feel a lot like looking in a mirror made of every prayer and every lie that you’ve ever ignored and yet these liars and these people still search their souls for meaning and devote their lives to your name bound in black ink and blood when deep down past every single ******* confession and every single plea for purity speaking to you is like speaking to a wall harboring pictures of your kingdom and paintings of your minions carrying out every last command from their textbooks and their fictions to bring forth a new day of peace and love while your sinners run the world and tear their houses away from yours so they can do what must be done with speeches and not your ever controlling will because you move your pawns as if they’re all presidents of something when they can’t even move two steps forward unless you cheat and you of all beings should at least try to start realizing that there’s no exceptions when you’re staring into a black hole filled with beautiful and stupid faces waiting for your next move to push us further into the singularity.

Oh the songs my heart hums of late are new to me...alas i wish this was so. but I used to hear others hum this tune when I was smaller and rebellious, with no taste of blood in my cheek or on my collar. now my hem is ***** and worn, and fractious memories of other lips pressed to mine... can i toss these and replace them with whatever texture your ****** forestry implies? nuzzles are tasteful, when my tongue is out dear. if only a precursor, let us wander (skirtless) and fitzpleasure abounding not even gently when we combine talents and hum to the moon the new songs we've learned from hating eachother.
(i only hate you for finding my heart and for making me give it to you) but i forgive you for not being here