This feeling I can't describe
It stays only for a moment
In dark rooms
In cold air
Stillness
Silence
Peace perhaps
Or maybe loneliness
My thoughts stewing
Breathing like tides
Not crashing
Just flowing
The feeling leaves
Dec 20, 2019
Dec 20, 2019 at 9:51 PM UTC
Day to day to day thoughts and all the things in between I see them clearly out of focus if you knew my baby what I go through on daily basis Im seeing myself between several windows of reality.
Thoughts on thoughts on thoughts on raindrops dripping through the cracks in my ceiling caused by our laughter that night sunshine shines through your smile and clouds my rainy vision.
Fingers running manic through the keys describing what joy FEELS like it can only be a way that we all see differently all unique and growing like plants watered daily to daily.
Gracelessly spiraling through our eraser shaving space time what is sad what is happy ambiguity and alluding to something greater than ourselves some have faith other have thoughts on thoughts on thoughts on thoughts.
The piano keys slow to a beautiful hum and form your eyes your eyes like moons in my skies and I wonder to myself how did I get here how did I end up in a hole looking up at the sky we made instead of flying through it like I'm meant to.
Maybe someday it'll all make sense
Aug 15, 2018
Aug 15, 2018 at 11:56 PM UTC
The shovel I used to dig myself into these holes its strapped to my back.
It comes with me, haunting me whenever I meet someone.
Whenever there's a situation to dig in, you best believe it's digging.
For just once I want to break it down into metal and wood.
Make ladder rungs from a haft used to dig so many graves before.
A grappling hook made from a bent shovel blade no longer used to bury the hopeless but pull out the hopeful.
Every time I get here, I realize I'm back again, not for the first time, but a repeating pattern.
I'll break it someday.
Mark my words.
I won't be back.
Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 12:08 AM UTC
I don't have clarity anymore, it costs more than the 2.25 I have in my bank account.
The job I couldn't keep didn't burn to the ground so I don't have that going for me either.
I spend my nights not knowing how to say these things I'm feeling.
Then I spend my days screaming them at the mirror.
I have make funeral arrangements every time I lay down but I have to refund them because I keep waking up.
Maybe next time will be the time I get up and have the beautiful view of me still laying there.
Still.
Cold.
I'll fade away into the void of night and the corpses legs won't let it get up again.
They'll stay rooted to the ground as everyone weeps and mourns around it.
Mourns another fallen shard of glass fracturing into a miasma of hate and dissonance.
I'll get to watch myself get lowered into the ground as my mother is comforted by her remaining sons.
The corpse will lay still in the coffin.
The payment on the arrangements goes through and I don't get up the next morning.
Instead of all this I open my eyes.
I check the time.
And I try to die again for a few more hours.
Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 2:58 PM UTC
I've spent a lot of time being told how to live but no one's actually told me HOW to live
Jan 16, 2018
Jan 16, 2018 at 2:17 PM UTC
I have so many dreams with you in them.
Against my better judgement you find your way in and grace my sleeping subconscious with that amazing smile.
I reach for your hand and it feels so real, so close I can close my fingers and feel home again.
But before my palm touches yours my body shoots me awake like it's saying "don't drink that poison kid it'll only make it worse."
When I see your face I feel my heart and mind leave my body.
My heart runs forward, my mind runs away, and my body is left in the middle wondering why.
Why it had to be this way, when I know why.
What I could've done, when I know there's nothing.
I know it doesn't work that way.
I know I became the most annoying thing on earth to you after you left.
When I freaked out when you wouldn't text back in five minutes.
When I tried too hard to have your attention.
I was left clawing at the door trying to get it open again.
When it was already sealed over with bricks I couldn't break.
The glowing entrance sign's lights died out and in the dark I wept to make noise to keep me sane.
I told the wall I loved it in hopes of hearing it echo back to me if I screamed loud enough.
But here in the fallout of it all, Silence is much more comforting.
Feeling my heartbeat steady to a stop.
The feeling of your lips on mine is long gone but sometimes in those dreams I can almost feel it again and it makes everything else numb.
But before that thought has time to manifest I'm awake.
I wish I didn't have to call those dreams nightmares.
But they hurt so **** much.
Dec 14, 2017
Dec 14, 2017 at 12:01 AM UTC
You're not dying
What you held in your hand isn't there anymore
And that's okay
Everyone knows you're going to live
So you might as well start trying
Nov 30, 2017
Nov 30, 2017 at 12:39 PM UTC
I have so much to say
But I don't want to tell anyone any of it.
I focus on hating myself so much that I'm sick of me.
I press pen to page in hopes of making some way to cope but the words dont flow like they use to.
Those pipes are rusted shut.
Clogged by to many thoughts of myself that came from my own sick head.
The ones that come from loving lips and caring smiles sit outside and freeze.
I want to write my pain into oblivion but it doesn't go willingly.
I could bleed my hands ripping up the rusted copper pipes and give myself a new outlook but the foundation is too thick too break through and I don't have a hammer strong enough to hit it with.
Steel pressed to concrete spelling out my words with smashing instead of ink on the page I set out to write on.
But the strokes of the hammer are quiet.
Because I'll never say any of it.
Nov 26, 2017
Nov 26, 2017 at 11:33 PM UTC
Lately my sentences have ended with periods.
I've meant everything I've said hurtful or not.
I've spilled my heart to my mirror countless times and ended it all with that single dot.
But when it comes time to tell another human being all that comes out is dot dot dot...
I list the causes of my hatred with a colon: my reasons splayed out like a grocery isle full of sickness.
I use to talk with commas, always more to say
Always ending my sentences with one to continue it later,
Making myself able to feel like I could carry on but now everything I say is final.
I end my words like my last will and testament.
Never to be changed.
No semicolons to tell more later.
No commas to pause for a breath of life anymore.
All I want is that period.
That final bullet through the paper to close the book and let it be over.
I want to speak with commas again, to let it all flow like there's nothing wrong nothing to hide behind that period or those dots...
I want to be able to pause again, to catch my breath, to let myself heal, I want to use the proper punctuation to be okay again,
Oct 31, 2017
Oct 31, 2017 at 9:53 PM UTC