this: when your stomach
hurts,
and you can't remember why you were ever happy and
nothing is really even important,
especially yourself;
and you just sleep because you can't cope
and the sky is so beautiful,
but you can't feel sun dripping on your skin,
and your bones are numb with electricity,
but it's just rubber,
and you can't do anything,
ANYTHING.
anything, because you're you and nobody else can be you,
and the world is there to look at, so full of pretty things,
but, why look?
and it doesn't matter if there's somebody or nobody
or everybody, by your side,
because it's just this permanent moment
when the sharpness in your body is a droplet:
it hits the ground and wrenches itself into shapes,
patterns that coalesce,
you are enraptured, the sight is burning
into your retinas the emptiness that is
being.
the glacier that is your soul tills white light and branches out,
this creature that is cold and full,
folly with soft ears and sharp teeth.
*****
patches of grass
the birds are landing in your branches now
congregational hazards
social anxiety
disillusioned, giving in
but you don't mind the rest, there's only:
-you're on earth, and
-she's a star, and
stellar beings never come closer.
not for a moment.
they enjoy all views, from afar;
witness your retching in a
sad spectrum slideshow
the bile spills out, tumbling
across the sidewalk made
out of her tied veins
she is no god
we are free
be empty
listlessly dragging stones
be empty