I sit
Stare
Wonder of the things that aren't here but are somewhere else.
Beige ceilings feel small when you stare at them all the time.
There's a sky beyond the plaster-
A dark sky that's full of animals and stars and clouds and noise.
Yet here I am
With nothing but the white noise of a heater and a faint ringing in my ears.
I think of all the time I waste thinking.

I could learn a different language.
Being able to speak to someone in many different cultures and continents would be interesting.

I could practice guitar or piano, learn a new instrument, create new music.
I love the way music twists and spills from my fingers like an ethereal waterfall.

I could draw and create a masterpiece.
Acrylic flows through my veins and keeps my heart pumping.
Watercolor dyes my body and my hair,
Washing me over in a wave of bright color.
Chalk dusts my skin, leaving me with a blurred finish.

I could exercise.
It would surely boost my poor self image.
I constantly look in the mirror and see a hideous shell.

Mending relationships and talking would fantastic,
A splendid way to make good use of my time.
A way to use my present to correct my past and improve the future.

Studying would be a good thing to do, as well.
The great me knows that my grades sure do need it.
I cannot deliver disappointment to my parents.

Maybe I could work, earn some more money
More money makes mankind merrier;
So it appears, money makes man merry.
I'd be contributing to my society and be making use of my time.

OR...

or...

I could continue to stare at a blank canvas above me,
Smooth as silk,
And I can think of all the things I could be doing right now
Instead of actually doing them
Because America is a nation of dreamers,
Not doers.

I broke all of my promises
And accepted, shamefully,
all of the nightmares hidden-

I beg of you, let me get high
Because to live with you
I have to lie.

Like a child, I am eagerly waiting.
My knee shakes frantically in anticipation.
I sit excitedly in the water,
A smile plastered on my face,
Mouth watering.
Am I scared?
Of course?
Would you not be?
But despite my fear,
I look joyously down and the hard metal
A salty droplet rolls down my cheek.
I am scared,
But I am ready.
I take a deep breath,
I let go,
And I...

I find myself hoping-
Sometimes praying to a God I don’t believe in-
That these things will pass,
That they are just a phase.
It doesn’t always work, that’s why I have cuts and scars on my legs, and soon on my arms,
And that’s why my liver is so ****** up.
However, in the meantime,
I have some friends to keep me warm
And a family to love me.
People come and go, drift like the ocean,
And it hurts
But I’ll just keep my feet in the sand
And my eyes on the sunset.

“There aren’t any bullets in it”, you said as you held the gun so tightly between your legs,
Just one of the firearms you keep on you in case you want to end it all
(Which you do).
You find no passion in life, so you resort to ******* people off and staring at screens to fill the time.
You dull all of your senses that you can with anything around you.
You want to end it all, and you plan to soon,
If someone else doesn’t end it for you.
“There aren’t any bullets in it”, you said as you fought to keep her from shooting you in the head
Because that spot was only reserved for you.

See, here’s the thing...
I really wish I was sorry.

You’re cute.
I’m interested.

You’re funny.  
I’m enchanted.

You’re forbidden.
I want you even more.

You’re full of secrets.
Let me explore.

You’re hurtful.
You give me a reason to cry.

You’re ruining my life.
Let me get closer.

You’re an inconsistent  lifeline that I’m constantly trying to hold on to,
An oil-soaked rope chafing against my sweaty hands.
It seems you’re only halfway here and never fully committed to being my light
But you’re here just enough to have my instant company if you want it.
I’m left with the insecurity that I’m too imperfect for your brilliance
But there’s nothing I can do and I’m kind of okay with that.
This is lyrical nonsense jumbled together in an incoherent format
But it makes me feel slightly better about myself, as I now realize that I need you to fill in the holes and crevices but I don’t need you to make the moon.

Artificiality kills me.
It really does.
I hate when people's only notable characteristics are their attractiveness.
There is more to life than appearance.
There is noise to enjoy, words and laughter.
Please, I beg of you, look into the depths of a soul because
I can guarantee that beauty will fade if it is the only thing you focus on.

Can I just start over?
I only have ten years left
But I want to only have ten days left
So that I can live and disregard the consequences.

It’s okay to be hurt and it’s okay to be sad.
You can’t be happy all of the time,
That’s a part of life.
I’m sorry that things turned out this way,
You’re between a rock and a hard place
But I’ll help you get out of that hard place, I swear.
Trust me and make me trust you
So that we can help each other.

I have this feeling in the back of my throat like I’m about to *****.
My heart is racing at a million beats per second and I’m laughing to cover up the fear.
You come back into my life once more, but I already have someone else to waste away with.
I have multiple “someone else”s actually.
They send me good morning texts and compliment my humour.
I miss you, I really do, and we still have these funny conversations that leave me broken
because my heart remembers when we always had those conversations. When everything was funny and everything was good
But you aren’t my first choice anymore and I don’t think you have fully accepted that.
If you have, you very clearly don’t know why I’m talking to these other people,
why you aren’t priority,
but I can tell you why right now.
Your friends and all of these other “someone else”s didn’t **** me over to begin with.

Not everything works out.
Don’t expect it to go your way.

I stayed up talking with you for four hours tonight.
It started off with nervous laughter at potential ****-ups and ended in comfortable butterflies fluttering in my twisted stomach.
You call me “youngin” because you know how much it annoys me,
You’re only older by a year (“and six months”, you always remind me),
But you say my naivety is adorable.
You’re starting to catch on to the little phrases I say
And each time you say them, I notice more than any one around you probably does.
Showered in infatuation, bathing in the intoxication of affection,
We lull into an unrealistic sense of security that we find in each other arms, hundreds of miles away.
We might never meet again
But each time I talk to you, it’s like the first time.
A whispered laugh at your gasp as you realize just what time it really is
And I tell you it’s okay to go to sleep because I care about you
But you don’t care for me in the same way.
That’s okay as long as you keep calling me until 2:10.

I find myself in the backseat of a car,
Unwashed and unwilling,
Clinging to each word that comes out the speakers.
I hold on so that I don’t lose myself in the tears welling in my eyes.
Drugs really did make me happier.

Things are constantly changing.
They don’t always change for the better, but that’s life.
It happens anyways.
Don’t blame the changes on the world because sometimes, you ARE the reason things are changing.
Just accept change,
Accept who you are.
Accept that you might lose some things along the way.
Just thought I’d share my observations.

It took a long time for me to believe in trust again because it had been broken so many times.
It took a long time to believe in love again after it had been maniacally ripped apart.
Despite that, someone made me believe,
And then, now, here I am broken all over again.
I found myself believing every word that plunked from those lips
And I fell for them .
When sentences string from mouths , I don’t believe any of the explanations now.
I don’t process the one-sided quickly spoken monologues anymore.

It hurts to look back on the past and see the slow shifts where I couldn’t before.
It’s even harder to look into the future and see where I won’t fit in,
But it looks like it’s time to change again.

Why am I so addicted
To the feeling of your mind and soul leaving your body.
The way the smoke harshly exits your lips, the way all of your pleasure focuses to your abdomen, or the way that the Corona gushed down the back of your throat.
No matter the vice, I wish for it.
I long for it.
The worst of my addictions, however,
Is you.

Is God real?
If He is, He must be torturing me.
He took the ones I loved and twisted them like locks.
They changed and morphed and blended together until I could no longer distinguish them from the blurs of the unfocused background.
He took them and set up a metal trap for me to walk into.
People I'm in love with love other people.
People are forgetting me, or worse, doubting me.
People I trusted with my whole heart hurt me in such a way that I can't even react to things in the way that I should.
He has bent and broken my home.
Screams echo into a small room that I cannot call my own.
It's been like this for too long.
I must have done something wrong to upset Him,
But I don't even know what I did.

I wonder so often who you are
That I forget who I am.

I feel that I can honestly say that you don't love me like you did
Because loving is different to you, now.
You're losing your mind, forgetting what we've gone through and remembering mistakes way too old to know when they really were.
I don't know if you know what talking is because you can't seem to do that with me.
                              Ever.
You don't trust me with anything.
It's insane how much you keep from me,
And what I'm starting to keep from you out of fear that you'll show the people that you love more.
I won't exert all my effort to get you to love me
Because I know it'll never happen,
But I'm putting in 65% and youre working a straight zero.