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The desk in front of me has eyes.
The chair I’m sitting in has eyes.
The lights above my head have eyes.
The walls around me have eyes.
The bricks in the walls have eyes.
The windows in the walls have eyes.
The trees through the windows have eyes.
The leaves on the trees have eyes.
The road next to the trees has eyes.
The lines on the road have eyes.
The cars on the road have eyes.
The wheels on the cars have eyes.
The people all around me have eyes.
The eyes have eyes.
And those eyes also have eyes.
My eyes have eyes.
My skin has eyes.
My fingers have eyes.
My hair has eyes.
My clothes have eyes.
And every single one of them
Is staring at me.
And every single one of them
Wants me dead.
Everything wants me dead.
Everything is devouring me.
Don’t pay any mind to the kid having an anxiety attack in the middle of class.
I may not be your
First date.
I may not be your
First hug.
I may not be your
First hand to hold.
I may not be your
First kiss.
I may not be your
First set of eyes to stare into
I may not be your
First person to call up at midnight.
I may not be your
First shoulder to cry on.
I may not even be your
First choice.
But I want to be your
Last everything.
The world stops for a moment when I touch her, and suddenly everything is okay again.
The kerosine she
Left behind on my lips was
Something of a dream.
Nobody cares
About the kid in the twenty one pilots sweatshirt
Cause they think he's like Stacy's mom
But there ain't nothing going on.
Not after the the verbal attacks,
The nagasaki bombings of his social life.
And honestly he kind of
Wants to
Off himself right now.
But he can't say that aloud.
No that's not allowed.
It's not allowed
To hold your own opinions,
And say how you feel.
But what you know to be true
I guess is never really real.
At least according
To the people who care about you.
And the slow-motion train wreck
That he called a friendship
Is now just a sinking ship.
And it looks like he's going down.
But his hoodie's warm
So he'll be okay in the ice
Cold
Water.
...
Worry about my future.
Worry about my past.
Worry about what’s up.
But why would anyone be down
To get down with
A crazy guy like me?

Worry about my actions.
Worry about my reactions
Worry about how she sees me
And if it takes a toll
On her comforting me.
Or if I say I love her too much.

Worry if I worry too much
Worry if I don’t worry enough
Worry that she’ll hate me
Because frankly...
I already hate myself.

Worry if I’ll have friends
Worry if I’m all alone
Worry about the phrase
“Alone forever”
Cause forever ago
I wasn’t so anxious.

Worry how I’ll live
Worry how I’ll die
Worry if I’ll **** myself
Because I’ve already
Almost tried.

Worry about the eyes
Because I swear
They’re there at night
They’re there
“There there”
She says but I
Just wanna do something
For her.
For once.
Worry
Hands on hands
Bodies on bodies
Oxytocin blood rush.
Heart rushing.
Face gushing.
Stomach fluttering.
Lips stuttering before
Hers meet mine.
And then it all just...
Feels okay again.

The radio static in my head
Was like comfort food to me
But I’ve lost my appetite recently
Because I just
Can’t stop
Thinking.

And with how much
I think about the future,
I should be psychic by now.
But all my foresights
Involved her.
And though “it”
May never happen.
God she makes me feel good
And happy
In this moment.

And in this moment
Our hands are shaking
Lips are quivering
And birds are too busy beeing
Ethereal beings.
And if all goes well
I hope the bees
Don’t turn to wasps
And take half of everything.
That way I won’t be like him.
To: J
From: ***
Austin Mizelle Dec 2018
In all honesty,
Seventeen syllables just
Can’t show all my love.
For her
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