I used to be emotional
But then I learned to hate to cry.
I took emotions, cut them down,
And burned the stumps to ash.
I used to know what happy meant
And sad and overwhelmed,
But now it’s all an empty space
Where once emotions played around.
But emptiness, I’ve come to find,
Can be a comfort in itself.
Unless emotions start to grow.
Emotions now are ugly things,
But relics of what once was pure.
They’re twisted, crusty, awful now,
The growth of stumps once burned to ash.

I need to stop.
Stop thinking.
Stop worrying.
Stop being paranoid.
Stop working myself up.
Stop myself.

I can’t do everything.
Something has to fall through.
I just hope
It isn’t me.

But I can’t stop.
Because to stop
I have to stop being me.
And I only know one way to do that.
Stop my heart.

Tears on cheeks
And tears in cheeks.
Tears on the carpet
Some water,
Some blades.

A while back
I posted a dream.
A car accident.
Today
I almost surprised myself.
I didn’t get in one.

The whole **** world
Decided to be against me.
Just me.
Just for a couple hours.
You know what?
That *****.
Especially when you struggle
When the world isn’t against you.

But I’m not dead.
Yet.
I don’t know
If that’s good or bad.

But I know I’m worse.

You always say
“You sound tired.”
And I promise you
I’m not.

Then there’s times
I am.

I don’t know anyone
Who doesn’t have one.
A lot of people
Have too many.
But behind each one
Is a story.
If you have a scar,
I’d love to hear that story.

I reached out.
I took a massive leap.
It might have paid off.
I’m not sure yet.
I asked a girl
Who I met a year ago
For less than an hour
If she remembered me.
And she did.
Me.
The ghost.
The psychopath of an absence.
Somehow, memorable.

I’m the guy
Who actively avoids people.
I’ll talk to them
But always at arms length
Or farther.
I’m the forgettable guy
Who sits back
And stays so quiet that I’m forgotten.
And that’s it.
And yet somehow, memorable.

I forget people
And they forget me.
I stay in the shadows.
I hate the spotlight.
I’ll even skip my bow.
But she remembered.
I don’t know how or why.
But there it was. Me -
Somehow, memorable.

I’m lying awake on my bed
But I should’ve been asleep
For an hour or more already.
I’m thinking too **** much.
Constantly spinning, swirling
And I can’t stop the thoughts.
I can’t stop thinking at all.

My family
Is asleep.
They have been for a while.
They aren’t me.
They’re whole.
They don’t think about it.
They know
That tomorrow
Is gonna come and be fine.
I don’t.
I’m scared.
I’m scared of myself mostly.

They sleep soundly.
They’re whole.
I’m not.
They don’t know that.
That I’m broken.
They won’t.
I’m good at keeping secrets.
Even if it’s bad.
So what.

I can’t fall asleep because I’m thinking too much about me. About what I’ve done and about what I will do. They don’t have to think about it. But I don’t know which me is the real me. Which problem is the truth? Which attitude is my nature? Do I have a nature if there’s so many different ones conflicting? Or is my nature conflict?

Either way.
Tonight feels
Like sleep is
For the whole.
Not the parts.
Or broken.
And not me.

As backstage crew
I must argue
I’ve thoroughly examined you
And though this play’s not merely dead
It’s really most sincerely dead.

We’re off to **** this show up
This magically horrible play
Which is a major pain in the ***
For everybody involved.

Somewhere over the rainbow
This show’s good
But we’re stuck on this side of the rainbow so this show still *****.

Ha ha ha
** ** **
Maybe it’s not ****** up
That how we save this hellscape play
In the merry old land of oz

Somehow somehow
We didn’t all die
But we certainly came close
On every night

Tick tock
Tick tock
Don't let
The clock stop.

Ding ****
Ding ****
Time's up
You don't have long.

**** ****
**** ****
The church bells toll
They play YOUR song.

Breath sigh
Breath sigh
Someday soon
We all will die.

What if I told you
That death is not the end?

I’d leave.

Well then I guess it’s time
For you to walk out.

Ok.

Really?
No why?
No how?
No what do you mean?
Not even the slightest interest?

No.

Why?

Because when I die
- And it is when -
I want to be dead.
I don’t want oblivion
Because that implies
That part of me lives.
That something is conscious.
When I die
I want to be gone.
I want nothing left.
Nothing left to think.
Nothing left to imagine.
No oblivion.
Just nothing.

Well.
That’s something.
You’re different you know.
From most people.

Because I want death
To be the end?

Well yes.

Then I’m happy being different.

Each and every single day
A thousand broken hearts are made.

The little girl lives down the street,
Who used to run and play all day,
Now sits alone and drops her eyes
These weeks of late with mother gone.

The little boy who isn’t sure
But asked a boy if they could date.
And now instead of saying no
The other boys tell him he’s ****.

The mother holding infant child,
Her milk gone sour before the meal
Because she lost her other child
And cries through both her eyes and teats.

The father sitting home alone
Who blames himself for everything.
Not just his wife, who’ll soon be ex,
But children both who left for mom.

A thousand broken hearts each day
A thousand different faults that break.
Along the faultlines, far away,
And even in the in between,
A thousand broken hearts are made.
A thousand lives forever changed.

Distance
Doesn’t make the heart grow fonder.
It makes it harder.

Distance
Is not a friend.
If you can’t get rid of it
It will get rid of you.

Distance
Can be healthy.
It can help you see the big picture.

Distance
Is like a roller coaster that only goes up.
It’s fun and scary and adrenaline spiking for a while
But then it gets boring and you just want to get off.

Distance can be nice.
Distance can be ruinous.
Distance can be deadly.

Sure
I watch YouTube
I check Snapchat
I check HePo.

But what keeps me up the most
Late at night when I should be asleep
Is you.

I had this dialogue
With you.
In my head.
I had some stupid ideas.

Kinda stupid.
You open a window and we talk.
Stupid.
You come outside and we talk.
Pretty stupid.
We drive around for hours but come back before you’re supposed to be awake.
Really stupid.
We go and drive and don’t come back until the next night.
Bat **** crazy stupid.
We go.

I know when I’m not welcome
So now it’s time
To disappear.