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the dead bird Apr 2016
everyday is exactly the same
there is no love here
and there is no pain*

every single day
consists of only
gray
though my sight
is not colorblind
I exist
in a monochromatic world

at first
when I discovered
my true self
hiding
in my shadow
I found I was
drowning
in the deepest sea
of dark blue misery

anchors of shame
sunk me
to the depths
unable to pull myself
back up
my soul died while submerged
and since then
this sunken vessel
has been empty

sea of sadness
I am
one with you
the pressure
is no longer
overwhelming
it has become
unnoticeable
as with
all else

no joy
no sunshine
can touch this
void
myself
immune to sadness
immune to all
the colors of emotion

please make me real
I just want to feel
the dead bird Apr 2016
you turn me
into someone
I am not-
but-
the only time I am myself
is with you.

you are the sunshine:
with a small taste
I feel
radiant,
effortless,
full.
with too much,
I get burnt.

like a moth
to a light-bulb;
I seek you.
I will fry myself-
I will burn-
just to feel your warmth.

the hot sunshine
in the desert
forms
a mirage,
an oasis,
a luscious stream of water
to quench
my endless thirst.

when I am close enough
to reach it,
I realize there was
nothing.
all along-
my paradise-
nothing
but the hot,
dry sunshine
and my
never-fulfilled desire.

engulf my planet,
fatal fireball,
disguised as an
angelĀ from afar;
I want my skin to melt
in your
blistering light,
like a candlestick.
I want to
melt into a puddle
of who I once was.

I don't know how to live without you.
the dead bird Apr 2016
in my dream last night
my favorite poet
Sam Pink
wrote a list of reasons
why I ****
and why
he hates me

reading it
was probably the coolest thing
that's happened to me
and it wasn't even real

I've been saying
my depression has been
getting better
but has it?

does it matter?

does anything matter?
(nope)

why do I care
about my emotional health
when everything
that occurs to me
has no value nor importance

the only impact
I will ever have
will be
to other people
other
mortal sacks of flesh
whose lives
are equally as meaningless
as my own

all of my words
and thoughts
and lack of emotion
exist for less than a nanosecond
in the entirety
of the universe

I'll just continue
distracting myself
from humanities
inevitable fragility

each human life
each of our
manifestations of consciousness
are as irrelevant
as a grain of sand-
tiny
bland
and irritating

together we form
a beach
the kind that nobody wants
to spend a day at
scattered with trash
and a pungent smell

bury your head in the sand
and ignore reality

write me a list of reasons
why my existence is pathetic
I will agree and nod along

everything that is in myself
is inside everyone else

death is inevitable
so get used to it
why do people act like they are better than other people when we all end up dead anyways their bodies will rot and decompose just like mine and yours and everything else that lives
the dead bird Apr 2016
I am the ocean-
from an objective glance
one might say
I am predictable
my tides
my moods
are just a reaction
caused by
my moon of emotion

I inch closer to you
then pull away
the moon is my master
and I am but a puppet
to her

wade in my shallow waters
before venturing further

for your own safety
study me first
before exploring my depth

I have swallowed innocent people
whole
when they did not
know what to expect
their bodies will always rise
but I have drowned their souls
in my darkness

not something I am proud of
but they
should have known
what they were getting into

inside me there lives
demons disguised as sharks
lurking
until you show your
vulnerability
once they smell it
they will hunt you down
and abuse you
for their own advantage

but when you get to know
my secrets
my waters
my soul
I promise there is
beauty
in the underwater foliage
I can show you sights
you have never seen
as long
as you remember
when to pull up for air

just bring a life vest
and don't say
I never warned you
not
to swim too deep
the dead bird Apr 2016
caress me with your words
they are honey
that drips over
all of my existence
coating me
turning me into something
more sweet

I am tastier
when dipped
in your sugar
savor me
devour me

but often
you enjoy me
raw
the dead bird Apr 2016
critical thinking
as you call it;

that which
I seem to lack.
need to
improve
upon.
and I agree in ways.

you said,
it is observing
the situation,
the pieces,
I have at hand,
and deducing
the best possible way
in my knowledge
to make them
fit together.

sounds
quite simple -
common sense.

simple,
if my mind
ran as smoothly as your own.
a trait of yours
I admire greatly.
a trait of others
I am envious of.

but critical thinking
is different when
my mode of
thinking
is not the same

I do not see
my surroundings;
my life,
my reality,
as cogs and gears
that progress
this existence.

I admire
the way you,
and others
pick up on the
little
small
hidden artifacts
that allow yourself
to discover
the best
possible way
to proceed.

if I were to say,
you noticed
the overlooked
and finer details,
I would say
I notice-
no-
I experience awareness
of it's entirety.
how it feels
to me
and how I feel
about it.

if our
individual
thought processes
were placed
in an ever changing river,
whose currents
vary
and are unpredictable?
yours
would be
picking up the driftwood
the sticks,
and objects in grasp.

and as the current carries it,
it would be constructing
a raft
to stay afloat:
safe
and
in the most
comfortable way,
so it could eventually
construct
something suitable
and sturdy
to rest upon,
and relax with content,
while enjoying
the splashes
and warm sunlight
from a safe spot.

instead of
deducing the situation
as yours did,
my thought process
would drift along
the same river,
letting the current
take it under -
if that is where
it felt like going.
finding logs
and debris
to hang on to
when the current
became too much
and it needed a break.

yours may be
high and dry,
but mine has felt
the pebbles
along the bottom
of this river -
the depth and pressure
almost frightening,
but the experience
in itself
always beautiful.
mine floats upon it's back,
like an otter,
enjoying the sunlight
as yours does,
experiencing
this journey through
the rivers path.

and maybe,
if the current gets rough,
if mine is struggling,
it will find the hand
of yours
lifting it up
to keep it safe
until the rocky waters
have passed.

I experience
as I feel,
which may not
be the best approach
all of the time.

but with this,
I am able to
feel
what I believe
is the best choice,
based
on my experience
of the whole.

you make me
feel
and want to
try
new ways of thinking,
new ways
that may help.
you are always pushing
pushing me
to do more
to be more;

which is just one
of the many reasons
why I love you.
umm idk I kinda started writing and then went with it!
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