it comes and goes like waves,
she said to me.
it’s okay, one day, it’ll go away,
she said to me.
the ocean never stays the same, you know,
she said to me.
if that great, big body of water can change,
so can you,
she said to me.

i love you,
i said to her.

I’ll do it tomorrow.
That’s what I say every day:
“I’ll do it tomorrow, not today.”
I 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 it’s a bad idea,
but I can’t stop;
𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱.
Every day, when I wake up,
All I want to do is go back to bed.
I want to 𝒘𝒂𝒊𝒕 for tomorrow like it’s something that 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒔 to me.

It’s just something that 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒔 to me.

𝘊𝘢𝘳𝘱𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘮.
They say you should 𝒔𝒆𝒊𝒛𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒚,
But I can’t.

I can’t when it’s just something that 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒔 to me.

We are all a victim of life passing us by.
Of time passing us by.
Of the universe 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒔𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒔 𝒃𝒚.

The universe is so 𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒊𝒇𝒇𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒕.

But maybe, just 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆, I don’t want to be a victim anymore.

I don’t want 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 to be something that just 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒆𝒏𝒔 to me.

I think it’s really 𝒇𝒖𝒏𝒏𝒚 when we ask, “how are you?”
The answer’s 𝒂𝒍𝒘𝒂𝒚𝒔 the same.
“I’m good, how are you?”, “I’m fine, how are you?”, “I’m 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒆, I’m 𝒐𝒌𝒂𝒚!”
I think it’s funny, because sometimes it’s a 𝒍𝒊𝒆.
We have made it 𝒄𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒎 to 𝒍𝒊𝒆, to give an 𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒓 that doesn’t 𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒓 anything.
We have made it 𝒄𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒎 to 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒑 𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈, because we 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 what they’ll say.

We 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 what they’ll say.
We 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘 what 𝒘𝒆’𝒍𝒍 say.

You know what we’ll say?
We won’t say 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈.
We’ll say 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 because words are not 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 when they’re 𝒆𝒎𝒑𝒕𝒚.

We’ll repeat it, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵-

Can’t you see how 𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 this is?

It creeps up 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒊𝒅𝒆 of you
The darkness.
I can feel it too.
It reaches up and 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒔 you
And pulls you
𝑫𝒐𝒘𝒏
𝑫𝒐𝒘𝒏
𝑫𝒐𝒘𝒏
Some days it has me in a 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒍𝒐𝒄𝒌
A headlock inside my 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅
Locked because I
𝑪𝒂𝒏’𝒕.
𝑮𝒆𝒕.
𝑶𝒖𝒕.
Some nights my mind 𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒎𝒔 at me
Like it’s 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒓𝒚
Like it’s 𝒑𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 me for something.
The 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 fly so fast they’re like 𝒋𝒂𝒃𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒓𝒐𝒔𝒔𝒆𝒔
In the boxing ring.

I try to fight them.

Some nights I come out 𝒗𝒊𝒄𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔.

Not tonight.

I’m 𝒄𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅, feeling each 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒘 like a million 𝒕𝒐𝒏𝒔 on my 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒔𝒕.

𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏’𝒕 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆.
𝑰 𝒄𝒂𝒏’𝒕 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆.

𝑩𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆.

𝑩𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆.

Why can’t I 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓 how to 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆?

I’m 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯 everything I need
I’m spoiled and I should be 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺.
“𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦, 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦, 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦”
It’s like a 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘵 or maybe a 𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦.
“𝘗𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦, 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦, 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘦”
It doesn’t matter if it’s just fog and conjecture.
I don’t deserve to be sad, I don’t.
I’ve never experienced hardship the way
My 𝘮𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 did, my 𝘧𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 did,
Or the people I read of online.
There is no cause for me to lash out,
There is no cause for me to run away
From my own 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 in my 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥.
And yet, they tell me I don’t deserve to be 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 either.
“𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥,” they whisper.
Did you know that whispers can be loud?
Did you know that quiet can hurt?

I can’t be 𝘴𝘢𝘥 and I can’t be 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺-

I can’t be 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺 and I can’t be 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨-

What is there left for me to be?

Hi, I’m back and well…it’s been a while since I’ve been on here. I won’t be as active but I will be here.

I will always fall
I cannot truthfully say
I am on the right path
I know for sure
I cannot turn around now
I refuse to believe that
There is still hope
If the coyote still howls
I am done for
Only at the world’s end will I believe
That I may be enough at last
Indeed, I think now
I am already past the edge
Indeed, it is untrue that
A kernel of hope can grow in this soil