this isn’t going to make sense
cause it’s not supposed to
and if I’m being honest
this isn’t for you
it’s not even for me

I’m stuck
I’m trapped
I’m lost
I’m every other word that describes people who feel at a dead end

I’m typing on a ****** phone
That’s connected to a ****** connection
That could possibly be a metaphor for my life

I’m writing
Because I don’t know what else to do

I’m writing
Cause that’s what they told me to do

But they also told me that what I think isn’t always true
That I’m special and I just don’t see it

But that’s the thing
I don’t see it

And if I don’t see it then why should it matter if anyone else does

And if I’m thinking something why should it matter if it’s true

What matters is that it’s in my head
What matters is that it’s always there

But here I am
Stuck in the same place
Back to square one
No progress made
The same questions, whether true or not

Will I amount to anything?
Do I really help?
Am I really worthwhile?
Do you actually care?

I see these people
When I’m online
They smile and post
They edit and pose

I can’t help but wonder

Do you really smile, or do you just do it to look happy like me?
Do you really feel happy, or are you trying to lie like me?
Do you understand what I feel?

Or is it just me?

I’m not trying to be selfish
I don’t want a lot
I just want to be happy
And I want others to be happy with me
But neither is happening

So instead there’s a poem
That doesn’t even ryhme
That makes no sense
  I’ll try harder
two people
sit across from each other
they act like they're in love
but they are not in love
two children
who try to be adults
attempt to listen
but they're not listening
two lovers
struggling to live
take it one day at a time
one son
one mother
try to understand
but ignorance is not given
to those who won't understand
one dreamer
young and naïve
she's gonna change the world  
she just doesn't know it yet
    the man in the corner
    is sipping his coffee
    but he doesn't like it
    he prefers tea
        the woman over there
        is writing a novel
        she's been writing
        for three weeks
            the elderly woman
            is always alone
            almost as though
            she's waiting for another
               and the waitress
               is just trying pay
               the bills that are due
               the next day

every life is a movie
and everyone's got their struggles

but it's just another day
at the Blueside Society Cafe
if words and sounds were visible
they would be like mythical things
all different shapes and sizes, some even shapeshift
all different meanings and intentions
sometimes a word itself is a riddle or code with a different meaning than what the book says
some would slip by right in front of my eyes and I would miss it, and call out to it again and again before giving up
I always do that, every time I say I won’t do it again
sometimes words show themselves only to certain people in a room
sometimes they are a storm at sea trying to swallow me
but that doesn’t happen so much anymore
so maybe I am on land
sometimes words give you baked good and advice
sometimes words take your confidence and leave your stomach churning
because sometimes words lie
but these words, cruel as they are, don’t lie
  Nov 24 Dorky Rhapsodist
blue is the colour of

never seen

never sailed

never said
“Blue is the color of longing for the distances you never arrive in, for the blue world.” Rebecca Solnit
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