Let me set the scene
The sun is shining
Time to fill my day with play
The illuminated field of grass calls to me
Like my soft blankets after a hard weeks work.
Should I take off my shirt?
I don’t want tan lines.
Tan lines?
Tan lines.
What are those?
You know,
When your skin has a line where
“Darker tan skin meets lighter tan skin”
Tan?
Tan.
What is tan.
You know,
You know a darker flesh tone.
Flesh tone?! Oh no,
Here we go.
What is flesh tone?
Flesh?
Tone?
Flesh, our skin.
It comes in all different shades of pinks, oranges, and red.
No there’s different shades of black and white.
No one is white, truly.
You know what I mean!
No! I don’t, I really don’t.
I mean,
There are people who exist with the complexion of fresh fallen snow.
Oh no,
Here we go.
Snow is made of ice which is made of water.
Last time I checked water is blue.
We were talking about you!
Well now we are onto something more important!
You seriously think water is blue?
It’s an optical illusion!
Can’t you see?
You fool.
And your stupid tan lines.
If they bother you so much take your shirt off!
Don’t be more than one shade! You have to make sense!
You have to blend in!
You have to be perfect!
Woah. Wait a minute.
Weren’t we having a nice time in the sun?
Well brain,
I was trying to.
But now I feel like I’m in sin.

I caught a vibe
When all I needed was an iv
I get it.
I shouldn’t have taken another drink
Unless it was water
I can’t feel the light
All I see are demons
Who want to eat me
Hurt me
Watch me hurt myself
They like it sick sadistic *****
*******!!!!
Was a medic my angle?
Or was it the stranger who listened to me
The magic man with the music outside of the concert venue
Spare change and soft sounds
I’m out of my mind
Far from my body
So far high
High up I almost died
I know what it’s like to almost die
When you go so high you see how you will fall
If you can come back down
To your body will the heart still be beating
Oh **** it is
Too fast too fast
Who’s in control of this body
Make it stop
“You done acting like a child”
“Stupid *****”
I can’t think of what to be so I will listen to those around me
“Child”
“*****”
“Tweeking ****”
I am a child
Who isn’t a *****?
I’m out of my mind
And into yours
Do you not like me?
Why?
What do I look like?
I can’t see myself
Wait what the ****?
Can I even see?
It’s going black
Wait part black
Spots
Help me
Where are my safe people?
People?
No one
Leave me alone
*******

I told you I would write about us.
About that night
And I know you know which one
It was the “firsts” of many
First time seeing each other
In half a year
Second time in almost three
You looked different,  older
And I suppose you were
Did I to you
Surely I must have
If only the difference
Was my delirious outspoken state

I was with you but all I could think of was about
Me
What did you think of me?
Why did you come to see me?
Did you like the touch
Of my skin
In the same way I liked yours?
“ what are you thinking?”
I asked
But meant about me

Have I always been this self consumed?
Can I answer the same questions about you?
Your hands in mine
I can answer some

I like your distinctive yet
sedate aura
You were rare
  A secret
To the industrial world
Your hand in mine
Your touch was reticent
And yet  irresolute
If embracing were a race, you
Would have let me win
If I was a stride
You were a step
And two steps behind
It would’ve been
I wanted you
To run at my pace
But I was scared
So we stayed in place

I was in control
But I couldn’t take it there
I couldn’t give you my soul
Contrite I would say sorrowful words
For reasons I didn’t quite understand
Maybe it has to do with all the questions
I couldn’t answer that I asked you
As you held my hands

Questions that I would have you answer me
Or maybe I know I couldn’t concede
To everything you may want in me
Because deep down I think I know
This wasn’t meant to be

Then it hits
That thing
It goes by the name
Reality
Those steps taken forward
Can’t be retraced
And I’m glad
You weren’t running at my pace

This will have to end
I don’t know how or
Even if
It will ever begin again
So I say the words
“I’m sorry”
And you tell me I have no reason to be
But you don’t know what it is
Those words actually mean.

Begone from my mind
Out of my thoughts
How far do you stretch
how tight are these knots

I kept you tucked away
Vault shut, locked
but still memories permeate
Like blood sodden shirt
Spot splotch

I’ve abandoned
Now do the same
Do me one favor
Extinguish this flame

If memories must persist
Cast these feeling to naught
Drain the last drip
Let this open wound clot

I’ve said it too many times
This fight has been fought
I embossed the shape of you
Now begone, get lost.

We all got them
Got milk?
No that’s the women?
Female
*****.
*******? You like them?
Come grab them stroke them bite them.
Are you my son? Why am I mothering you?
Do you have mommy issues too?
Because I can relate.
*****.
Badass *****. That’s what she is.
Got milk? No!
How cute. I bet your ******* are small fragile. Sensitive.
*******? you like mine?
But can’t I like yours? Let me stroke it a little?
Can you handle it? Don’t flinch.
You can’t ever nurture.
But boy
can I?
You can **** and lick and bite. Gnash your teeth at me.
I bet you,
I won’t feel a thing.

Those who lack compassion
Were never shown much of it in the first place.
We placate ourselves
To accept pains
We hope to never have to feel
Walk by and say what has already been done will suffice.
What good can come from personal sacrifice.

Thoughts
An abstract thing
More composed when I sit next to you
Exceedingly so when I feel your breath on my skin
And fingertips start to sting

What unspoken promises lie beneath the surface
Of each touch
Lies they tell too much
For they are ones we can not keep
Promises that pose no purpose

Thoughts
An abstract concern
Vague they become when you dissipate
My mind just can’t fixate
Unknown and unclear
Return to the ones that burn.

I am stuck in this head brain
Barred in and overwhelmed
pain and memories
brim to the surface of my mind
yet I treat them like nothing
as if I could ignore them into extinction
myself
a loathed pronoun
The thing I can’t stop thinking about
so starts the severance
take this pen look closely the black point of ink
That has welled out onto the tip
lines of refraction
so detailed and plain
there is no pain that this pen feels
it just is, and does
if I can become like this pen