I can't stop feeling sad.
It feels like junk overloading
on a machine and I'm the poor sucker.
Then it scatters like mad rabbits,
rabid blue and tatty... frantic.
Just one more lost star for the collection.
They're all the same
but you always singled me out.
I was worse than the others
and you wonder why I become what I become.
I always thought there was one last
dash of dopamine, something to live for.
But it was a waste of breathing.
it's time to give some air to someone else.

The clarity of the sky is all for you;
bluebell contrails open up their arms.
You should've found that true happiness
and you still capture mine.
But it wasn't a breeze.
It was intangible cyclones like hazel thorns
ripping the edges of your world
and all I can say is that I'm sorry.
That wasn't meant to happen.
All the things worth treasuring don't
come close to you,
all I wish is that you're smiling now.
For secret gardens only you can see
and you to breathe easy while you sleep.

I wish you were chlorine faced
and force fed the ocean
the way I was given your slander.
To feel the oxygen inside of you
rupture like kicked in teeth
and centuries of creating a family name
sinking to the seabed all because
I looked at you the wrong way.
On a moody day like today
we should be happy to be alive together.
But we're too messed up and
can't confess it.

What we manifest
is something so dishonest
and i hate to say it
but i stopped loving you.
All of the birthdays
have faded to dispersive
greying clouds and unsaid
words but never hate.
Just dead sympathy for
the kind things you didn't say
while you were still alive.
See, I finally got the words out.
And they will still want me
to be upset. I'm not but I am.
I'm still. Just still.

Morning crept up on me
but my mind was still asleep.
I used to be wild
then i lost a few teeth along
the way to another sleep.
My little anorexic arms
reimagined what morning
used to be like
before morning was mundane.

Like I said before, I'm scared.
I'm so so scared and I can't help
but miss the yellow skies and daffodils
that i used to see every day.
Now I think I just hallucinate it.
I'm so exhausted. I'm tired of this.
Maybe this is a cry for help
and maybe you won't hear me
until my chest gives out.
When my dreams of knowing what
everybody thinks of me appear
and i can't imagine you'll care that much.

A summery sensation frees me,
i lay my head upon the bed
of forgotten nighttime terrors
and it blooms into a rare happiness.
Here it only ever happens;
gratitude for the solitude.
It appears like a daytime lullaby
and it's all because of you.