You were gone before you left
Your words fell empty before they filled the room
Your touch was dead before it ever tried to move me
And I breathed in your black decay as if it were the essence of love itself
Isn’t it funny? How we fiend for lethal poisons that come disguised as welcomed highs
they’re lies.
Lies wrapped in a redundant narrative
Have we met before? I feel like I knew you in another life.
Well, maybe there’s a reason that time moves forward the way it seems to, edging us further away from the things that burned us before, our lore, our history
That’s all we ever were
A history that should have been recorded before it began again to save the pain of it for the next life.
I don’t want it anymore in this one.
Mar 5, 2021
Mar 5, 2021 at 11:53 PM UTC
you said you loved me
then you left
you said you loved me
then you left
but your love was based on a condition that lacked appreciation, but rather possession
and when it occurred to you that i could not be plucked from the ground and hung upside down to dry from your ceiling
you said you loved me
and then you left
your desire for my life outweighed your desire for my heart
i let you see into my core, underneath my skin and my bones
to my undertones and i loved you more
you said you loved me, but when I decided that I was my own, you lifted your eyes above me, and decided your love was meant to leave me alone
you were my best friend
you said you loved me
and then you left
Sep 27, 2017
Sep 27, 2017 at 2:40 AM UTC
im wearing the hoodie that you paid for
but im still cold
****
i hope your mom is doing okay
happy
you keep showing up when i sleep
god im so tired
Sep 7, 2017
Sep 7, 2017 at 12:15 AM UTC
i haven't written much these days
because i can't find anything to say
about these dark days or my odd ways
of thinking
in a way that actually conveys anything
better than a blank page would
so, it should be understood that this essentially
is an empty journal entry and
consequentially
says more than i can, today
May 22, 2017
May 22, 2017 at 2:03 AM UTC
"Tell me something nice," I type. Send. Wait.
You're busy. That's alright. Okay.
Moving on to the tough decisions such as "Do I eat or do I a shower?"
Because I really only have the energy to do one.
Lifeless hours.
Suddenly, I'm crying. And I promise I'm not lying when I tell you
that I cannot pinpoint why my words taste so sour
inside my mouth.
You see, my mind is never black or white, day or night, it's a constant gray, a fog in twilight.
And I'm sorry that I cannot explain my brain to you or either of us and that you're the receiver of what thoughts spill out of me and tarnish the mood of the room.
I'm sorry that I'm telling you how I feel now because you always in turn feel the need to somehow repair what brokenness you assume is there. Right above my throat and behind my confused eyes.
(1) New Message - tell me something nice.
Mar 22, 2017
Mar 22, 2017 at 1:13 AM UTC
and I keep searching for poems to say the words that I cannot, but the poetry inside my head does not exist underneath the pen of anyone else.
So, I will keep writing until I run out of thoughts or breath - whichever comes first.
Mar 16, 2017
Mar 16, 2017 at 3:29 AM UTC
I'm ashamed of my last name
I'm ashamed of the strain that I put on myself when feel that I've gained nothing from a day, except another day
thrown away
It breaks me apart inside, stomach to heart when even a second
seems wasted
I'm not creating enough, I'm just debating my bluff with you
I'm okay today, all under control
the story's old, I know, self.
when I'm not moving my feet, defeat hangs over me like impending failure
and I can't stay here, I'll fail here
I have to look myself in the eyes, it's do or die
Get out before it's too late to create the life that you know belongs to you.
Mar 12, 2017
Mar 12, 2017 at 3:03 AM UTC
I do not know why I'm writing now
But the words run off the screen in a blur
the voices, disturbed
silence for a moment as I own them and make them immortal
a portal, these words are my version of an excursion through my psyche
I'm a bit dizzy, mind busy, my eyes dilating
as my lungs are deflating and filling with rain
the thunder is in my brain and the flowers that grow up
we're all insane, it's a shame
thoughts of somewhere else, in a book somewhere on a dusty shelf
that we visit from time to time to remind us of who we were.
Mar 6, 2017
Mar 6, 2017 at 2:08 AM UTC
running through reality
time stops
the world moves
my hands are not mine
no more me than you
five seconds
an eternity
my mind is behind and
I do not exist
Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 1:24 AM UTC
it is too late for sleep
and it is too late to be awake
surrounded by thoughts
that overheat my skin
and pull at my bones
for what?
Mar 1, 2017
Mar 1, 2017 at 1:17 AM UTC