the frustration I had
after failing
to bring myself to ******
for the
tenth
time this past week
makes me more
furious
than depressed

seriously
my *** drive
has always been high

as soon as I
got over
the shame
society places on women
for enjoying
their sexuality
I have always used
*******
as a release
relieves
stress
leaves me
relaxed
and
content

or should I say,
left me
feeling that way

usually
it was once a day
fairly frequent
but, it
matched
my *** drive's
needs

what the **** is wrong with me

I have tried
imagining,
watching,
reading,
looking at
every form
of erotica
that exists

I have searched
through everything
I can find
from
****,
******,
stories,
comics

and my search history
will let you know
that I've searched
everything
from
****
to
******
to
interracial lesbian forced *******
and things
worse
than that

e v e r y t h i n g

used to take me,
oh, I dunno
maybe three minutes
with my *******?

after
around an hour
is when I give up
now
I even bought
a different
*******
NO
RELEASE
NO
PASSION
GONE
what is
WRONG
WITH
ME

oh yeah -
depression

I mean
I knew it was bad
when video games
no longer
had appeal
that was enough

games
have been a passion
and a hobby of mine
since I was five

the other hobby
I started a bit older than five
but
you stole that one, too

after depression
beat the **** out of me
on Tuesday
I thought that was it
thought
since the next morning
I awoke
without the urge
to **** myself
it was over

nope

you have robbed me
of the simplest
things
in my life
that give me pleasure

no more
wriggling
moaning
spasming
the tingling
sensation
that starts in my toes
and makes its way
up
the length of my body
the warmness
that follows
with it
the
satisfaction
slight smile
snuggly
sleepy
post ****** me

I miss her
give her
back

I miss my life
give it
back

this isn't
ME
for ***** sake!

I am a ******
witty
humorous creature
full of passion
looking
for opportunities
to get myself off!
not this
depressed
apathetic
vessel
without soul.

you won't stop
until you have
everything
in my life

you won't stop
until you
put
my soul in your mouth
chew
grind
crush it

your saliva
breaks me down

spit me out
please
I am fighting
for you to cough me up
regurgitate
the essence
of me
let me put myself
back inside this body
please
please

no
you won't stop
you will eat my soul
until
ever fiber
protein
ounce of health
I had
is now
inside of you,
depression

cold-hearted *****

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.

no one can make me
feel worse about myself
than I already do
if you're gonna insult me
better put
some ******* effort
into it

you cannot
be at the summer cookout
eating chips, with my mom’s
famous
seven layer dip
and say
“i just want the beans, thanks”

while with your ***** finger
you push off
the - delicious, might i add -
4 cheese mexican blend
wipe off
the sour cream
onto the side of the dip bowl
pick
the strands of lettuce
off of your Tostino’s Scoop

before you are satisfied enough
to savor that bite.

no. you will take your chip
and you will dunk it
and get a piece
of every single layer
you cannot pick and choose
which ingredients to eat
out of a dish
that has already been made

but this is not the family cookout
this is oppression.

this is to all my women
who support gender equality
and claim to be feminists
yet belittle and dehumanize our
transgender sisters.
one less safe space.

this is to all my white people
who believe in LGBTQ rights
but are "all lives matter"
and the moment someone brings up
racism,
you tell them racism doesnt exist.

this is to my best friend,
who is an activist
of ending all of the above.
yet, who pulls my sleeve and says, “look
how fat that woman is
i can NOT believe she went out in that.”

you cannot pick and choose
when it comes
to
equality.

you can not
eat the seven layer dip
and go for the beans
while ignoring the rest.

accept.
acknowledge.
listen.
change.
try a bite of the dip
with all the seven layers
i promise
it will taste
even better
than before.

sweet
release!
finally able
to get myself off.
maybe
the depression
is waning.
maybe
I am finding light
in the dark places.
never been more thankful
for ******
in my life.

as long as I can have *******,
if nothing else,
this life is worth living.
give me back
my lust.
that is what I will
steal
back
first.
lust is passion
getting
passion
back.
I will always live
with you

you are like
the racist grandmother
who I
am forced to take care of.
can't just
get rid of you
have to wait
till you die.
wondering
how
someone
something
so negative
could be a part
of my heritage
myself
oh, well
I have finally
found a way
to shut
you up.
tune
you out.

love you
at times
for making me
aware
of my flaws.
though
I will not
be consumed
by them.
I have strengths
too.

cheers to
the shred of hope
the light
I glimpse
as I'm trying
to find
my way out
of this cave
I've been lost in
for weeks.
the cave
of depression.
******
is the light.

laughing
laughing that
something so ridiculous
could have shown me
maybe
I am getting better
maybe
it's not entirely
all bad.
laugh
with me
***
with me
we will
get out
of this mess.

“You look like my daughter”
The man says to me,
As he’s ordering me a drink
Looking my body up and down.

I laugh,
Look away,
Try to pretend he didn’t say that

Oh but don’t worry
He made it a point
to mention
T H R E E
              M O R E
                           T I M E S
how my body
Resembled his daughters,
“Tight, perfect, the right kind”

Oof.
Idk y’all
Idk that I can do this.
I walk away
I dont make that money.
Even though I know **** well,
I fit his ****** up fantasies.

Not to mention I’m triggered,
Thanks to my childhood trauma,
By all of this conversation,
But it doesn’t really matter
Anyways.
Just a product of my environment
Just an object to fill
The desires
Of hungry eyes.

**** it
Let me be
An empty *** doll.
Just take my intelligence with you please.
Flowers for Algernon ,
And I’m wilting.
I’m too aware of my place in society.

Why strive to peruse my education,
When I know no one will hire me
Because of my background?
Why stay sober,
When my ******* flashbacks
Only stop when I’m drunk?

I hate my life.
No I don’t like the job I have;
But this **** ain’t easy.

And none of it is my fault.
It isn’t.
None of my trauma is my fault.

At least At the end of the day
I have the comfort
Of knowing,
That I matter just as little as the next person.
My life,
In all of its glory,
matters just as little as john f Kennedy’s
I am nothing
And we are nothing

Our suffering is eternal

outgoing?
I'd say outspoken
never been arbitrary
or overbearing-
just vocal

my passion runs deep
and pours out
excited
overflowing
when it finds
another soul to share it with

the energy
others direct towards me
I absorb
and like a mirror
reflect it back towards them

the energy
that rests inside me
is like water
waiting
for an outside force
to heat me up
excite
my molecules
or
to cool me down
mellow
the chaos inside me
making me stable
making me solid

if being an extrovert
makes me
popular and
domineering,
a fun-loving,
party animal
who lacks introspection,

tell me why
I always choose
to isolate myself

why
my few friends I do have
I keep at a distance
except when I force myself
to enjoy their company
once or twice
in a year

why
I am easily talked over
my words drowned out
ignored
like background noise
my input
apbrubtly halted
as others drive over it
making it no more
than the dust
their tires kick up
why I let them
talk over me
rather than raise my voice

why I would rather
read in solitude
than go to a party
or play a video game
rather than socialize
why
would I choose
to ponder existence
over
existing with others

extroverted
means I get my energy
from external events
rather than the internal

I am not a synonym
for gregariousness

I look at the stain
My period has left on my favorite *******
And hold them in my hand
As I contemplate what to do with them.
I can try to get the blood out
But the stain will still linger
A reminder that I am only human
And ******* is natural but -
“Dont talk about that,
Thats so nasty.
Maybe that's why
You've been such a *****.
Typical FEMALES”
I am gross for being a woman?
Men worship my *****
But the moment I bleed
It's as disgusting as curdled milk.
Society wants to see me
As something unhuman
An object to worship
A ******, mindless creature
That does what she's told
A FEMALE.
But I am a WOMAN
I have ideas, morals, and input.
My thoughts and opinions that matter.
I can make jokes,
And drink beer,
And read,
And play video games,
And be a musician,
And speak my mind,
And bleed.
Like a FEMALE human.
Or,
Like a woman.

endless pacing
of these
subaquatic halls
almost catatonic
until I remember
how to think
and then
I cry

I should be
dead

I was dead
free from this
painful
existence
until something -
the WAU -
brought me back
in it's skewed mission
to preserve humanity

the WAU
stitched me
back together
with its gel of life

hardly human
hardly conscious
but conscious enough
to hate what I am
and cry
over my own existence

misery
then
anger
I am half
myself
half WAU
angry
craving to ****
hurt
end
whatever
stumbles across
my path

in my habitual
walks
through these corridoors
I see him

something else
another
who is aware
oh what I wouldn't
give
to have another
sentient creature
to curb my loneliness but-
NO!
STAY AWAY FROM ME!

the WAU
starts talking

**** him
he doesn't want you
to exist
he will
prevent you
from being with me
you need me
we need each other
he wants to end us
to end
life
he must be
extinguished
for the sake of
preserving
humanity

find him
chase him
**** HIM

in my pursuit
of the sentient
diving suit
I recognize
his fear
and my humanity
comes back to me
and I weep

he is
so afraid
of who I am
the Frankenstein
the predator
seeking prey
I cry
because this
is who I am
I cry
because I don't want
to hurt him
I cry
because I am
alive

constantly torn
between animalistic
rage
and the
self aware
misery
of realizing what I am

I want someone
to hold me
and make me feel
human
but
I don't want
any conscious creature
to get near me

for the WAU
is controlling
the strings of this puppet
it is the reason
I exist
it gives me the
sustenance
I need and crave
to keep on
hating my own existence
it will make me
****
anything that crosses my path

I think
and I weep

I am talking to you,
snake.
remember how
you hid your fangs
at first?
but it was not long
until
you sunk into
my flesh
trying to
****
away my positivity
away my compassion
away my warmth
use it for your
sustenance

you leech,
parasite,
passing as something human

not
any
more

when I think back on recent years
I am almost
thankful
to have met you.
don't for a second
think it's because I loved you
or we had good times
never
in a million years.
I am thankful
to have experienced
an abusive relationship
manipulation
codependency
the second I became
an adult.

I was not
an adult.
unaware
people like you existed
I did not stop being a child
until
the first night
you backhanded me
across the face
and with
the first slap
you smacked
my innocence
out of the window
never to be found
again.

you never let me
leave your sight
but,
after I lay
in a panic attack
traumatized
scared
of humanity
you told me to stay at "my" friends.
she was your
friend
not mine.

never trust
a friend
of the snake.

I came home early
you were in bed
with another woman
somehow
whenever I brought this up
it was never addressed,
never discussed,
instead
changed
and twisted
into something
that was
my
fault.

that didn't stop you
from accusing me
of infidelity
harassing me
about being a ****
when I was never
even
allowed to leave
the house
my hell.

I never for one second
loved you
nor was I ever
attracted to you
you
smelled my vulnerability
and went in
for the ****.

it took me months
but I left you.
you bawled
and shook
as you told me
you can't live without me.
******* die, then.
I had (have)
no sympathy
my eyes
were dead
cold
as I looked at you
weeping
like the pathetic
weak
waste of life
that you are.

I am thankful
because I taught myself
to be independent
to get a job
since then I have been
I will never
rely
on another
for my basic
necessities.
never
rely on a man
to give me
a place to rest
food
a shower
now,
I know where to look
in others
for the fangs
that you hid
from me,
from every woman
that has had
the displeasure
of meeting you.

I dont know why
I bothered opening
the first letter
you sent me
from jail.
told me
you know you shouldn't
have solicited
a fifteen year old girl
but you missed me.
she
reminded you of me.
now
I throw them out
without opening them.
that fifteen year old girl
is stronger
than you will ever be
for speaking up
and getting you
incarcinated.
she is
the reason
I support all other women -
specifically
younger girls.
I do not know her name
but
I know she will
be happier
than your miserable self
could ever
be.
ever.

I dont hate you.
I pity you
and your worthless
serpentine
body
slithering
covered in dirt
looking
for your next
vulnerable victim
to strike at.
when my dad found a snake
while mowing the lawn
he would chop off
it's head
with our largest knife
those animals
didn't deserve it.
but you do.
****.

could you please
preheat the oven
to 450°F?

thanks!
now
can you please
shove me in there
and close the door tightly?

I'll probably scream
and flail
but,
ignore that

I need a fire to be lit
under my ***
since I clearly
cannot light one
by myself

the dust
that collects underneath my
bed
flakes of old
skin
are more myself
than I am

the person I was
when I was seven
is not me
nor
the person I was
on my fourteenth birthday
the person I was
yesterday
is not
the person I am
in this moment

the cells
the building blocks
of this body that carries me
are constantly
changing
they die
and entirely new ones
take place

how can I say
I am the same
person
that I was at fourteen
when every particle
of myself
is completely different

what is it that has
kept me the same
person
throughout my regeneration
is it my consciousness
is this my soul

I am a tree
grown from just a seed
every year
my leaves
shrivel up and die
and every year
I grow
brand new ones

it is still the same
tree
because it's trunk
remains the same

I am still the same
me
because my consciousness
remains the same

after a tree
is cut down
it does not disappear
it's trunk
remains

smaller,
yes
but still there
now a stump

if I am still myself
after my body
changes every molecule
of my prior self
this begs the question
will my consciousness
remain
after this body has died

if
I
am not limited
to a specific
chemical makeup-
able to transcend
different bodies-
does that mean
I will transcend
this
life
as well

let me lick the lipstick stain you left on your coffee cup
i'll do it subtly so no one will be alarmed
i'll lick it and enjoy the taste of your makeup
i want to taste you and all that you are

i want to watch you all the time
i want to see you at the moments you are most yourself
the moments that
you pretend don't exist
the 2am searches on pornhub
the you that hasn't left the couch for days
with your hand in a bag of potato chips

let me lick the chip crumbs from your fingers
let me put your finger in my mouth
i want to taste the saltiness you savor
i want to taste who you are
the you that you hide from others

i want you to call me a pervert
and slap me

i will kiss your feet
and lick the soles
tasting the salt and dirt
of all the places you've walked today

you will cringe and say i'm disgusting
and i will smile

let me taste the you
that is you
when no one else is around
let me taste the you
that is you
after a long day of work
let me taste the you
that is you
when you ignore me

the shadows of others
which maliciously
dance
upon the walls
point and laugh
at my human body
that sits in my room
watching

they use their
shadows
fragments of their
true self
to shame and degrade
this person
my self
because I do not hide
my flaws
in darkness

the teasing
shades of human
criticize and belittle
myself and
the other few
who openly exist
as exactly
who we are

these shadows
fueled by
fear
spite
negativity
make every observation
of exposed flaws
I can only imagine
that the humans
who are casting these
shadows of hate
to be
biting their nails
and looking away
as their
shadow
becomes them

while I was
openly
exposing my true form
I began to hate
that of who I am
taking the shadows critique
to heart
when they are too weak
to expose
who they truly are

their shadows
came for me-
as did
shadows
of my own

instead of
hiding myself
becoming
the same as them
using my
insecurities
as fuel for hatred
to burden
upon others
when
the darkness began
to encroach upon me
it fueled
to make me hate myself
instead of others

now,
I have begun
to understand

my own shadow
will no longer
swallow me in darkness
as it is just
my own
embodiment of hatred
a version of myself
that isn't real at all

and the
shadows
from others
who spit fire
to try and burn
my flesh
will fail
as I now know
that if they exposed
their true self
as I have done
everybody
would be able
to see
that the faults
they accuse of
only exist
within them

and I
am just simply
me

men
only want
to have *** with me

that's it

gross

we're all born into this river
without knowing how to swim

at the beginning
most have
family
to keep us above
the water-
be our life vest
that keeps us
breathing

as the river's
current
flows and carries us
some have been
taught
or have
learned
how to swim
how to
keep above
water
and are flowing
along
smoothly

others,
like me,
have not had
another to teach
guide
and have not yet
taught ourselves
either

simply
treading water
letting the current
of life
carry my soul
knocking me
pushing me under
with barely
a second
that I come above
to breathe

we are all
in this river
together

when the waters get cold
and my teeth
chatter
friends and
strangers
who have been
in these cold waters
before
keep me warm

when I am
going under
and start
to drown
these same people
lift me up
keep me
above
the water
so I can
breathe

others have
tried to teach me
how to swim
how they
make it through
the currents
but
I will have to
learn the best
way
for myself
to stay above

I am
building a raft
out of the sticks
and
debris
I find floating
that I latch on to
while I am
under

even though
I haven't
learned
how to swim
in this river
still
if I see someone
struggling
to stay above
I will do
all
that is in my power
to keep them
above

hold
on to me
if you are being
pulled down
I will tread water
for the both of us

and when I finish
this raft
I will
use it for myself
and when
it has done
it's job
I will give it
to another
to keep them
above
these deep waters

I'm here for you
in the same way you're here for me

currently wishing
my uber driver would shut the **** up for half a minute

I just want to listen
to Joy Division
in silence;
with nothing
but the pressure
of my inescapable apathy

please shut up;
I really don't care
that two children were hit
by a tractor trailer this morning,
only a bit jealous.
I never thought I'd meet
someone as lonely as me,
but the continual conversation
that you regurgitate
proves otherwise.
I wish I could be
taken out
by a tractor trailer -
at this point,
I'll settle for anything.

uh-huh
yeah
really
no way

I feel as though this trip
is a metaphor
for my waking life:
just a blur of scenery
flying by,
while a stranger
makes noises at my depression -
and I just,
uh-huh
yeah
really
no way

I hate how
I hate everything

hate
how lonely I am

how regardless
of who
surrounds me,
        comforts me,
                loves me,
I still feel like I'm alone

welcome to the void

depression
is not crippling sadness
as most think it is.
well, sometimes.
it is
apathy
most of the time

who cares?
no point.
everything *****.

I lost my job today
cried, a little
but I cry about everything.
mainly
apathetic
now I truly have no reason
to ever get out of bed
sure,
I'll look for another
way
to live
but this *****
leaves me with no motivation

no motivation
to apply to colleges,
even though I have
a 3.9 GPA
no motivation
to hang out with friends
even though I am
lonelier than ever

no motivation
to eat food
even though I am
starving

after
I left my now "old work"
I had the impulsive decision
to rescue a dog.
maybe
if I have another creature
to look after
love
feed
I will start
to care for myself, too.

the shelter
made my heart hurt
the kittens
weren't crying
just
sleeping
in their jail cells
uninterested
in life
or their possible new
friend
looking at their possible
rescuer
with disinterest
looking
through their cage
like me.

finnegan
was a terrier mix
a stray
he was whining
licked
my hand
when I reached to him
eight years old
missing
his right eye
life has trampled him
yet he is not hardened
I cried
with him

as I walked him
around the play area
he sniffed everything he could.
curious
investigating
not crying anymore
just happy to be free
from the hell in his cage
he
treated the workers
with affection
like he treated me
with affection

it took awhile
until he came close
and cried while I pat him
climbed in my lap
and cried
I know
buddy

walked him inside.
the woman,
at the counter
looked at me eagerly,
"so?!"
I looked away.
can't
do it
not
today
I'm sorry

him and I
are both looking
for affection
love
a way out of this mess.
but
I can't help him.
no job,
no sure way I can buy him food
buy me food.
I can't
buy a living creature
out of impulse.

he needed security
I cannot provide that
only warmth.

I need to be happy
he cannot provide that
only warmth.

goodbye,
cutie
puller of heartstrings
I promise
someone better than me
will take you away.
not today

lost myself
lost my passion
lost my lust
lost my job
lost
my
soul.

breathe me in
my bittersweet taste
encompasses your tongue
the memory
of me
lingers
on your tastebuds
crave me again
crave me always

breathe me out
exhale
as I pleasure myself
I arch my back
inside the curls
of your white smoke clouds
enchanting you
to have more of me
begging you
to play with me again

I am the best
you'll ever have
I'll send waves
of *******
throughout your being
more than anyone else
without me
the *** will always be a bore
I am your delight
the tighter my hold on you
the more you need it

I'll never leave you
my body is yours
you couldn't get away
even
if you wanted to

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
angel 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.

i am the *** toy
that you
throw
under your bed
when someone enters
your room
unannounced
QUICK-
hide me

i am the cigarette ****
you smush into the ground
and try
to push away
with your foot
so your family
doesn't notice
your trash
QUICK-
hide me

i am the empty
alcohol bottles
from when you were 17
and threw a party
while your parents were away
quick
drive them to the
dump
before they get home
QUICK-
hide me

i am the girl
who you talk to
and hide from your wife
delete the messages
throw out the *******
silence
the phone
QUICK-
hide me

it's okay
i don't mind being hidden
so long
as you take me out to play
every once in awhile
i will tease you
from my hidden depths
lick
and beckon
until you take me out
in the comfort
of privacy
to fulfill
your pleasures

the star
obliviously
makes her
rotations
of life
around
the black hole
glowing
shining
fiery
pits of hell
if you get close,
but providing
warmth
and life
to her planets
that stay
far enough
away

naive
creature
born maybe
closer to the black
hole
than others
doesn't
notice it
as
out of the ordinary
anything
other
than her life

each
movement she makes
she will
be closer
to her destination
closer
to her destiny

took me
twenty years
of life
until I realized
the full force
of my depression

only when
she got close enough
did she realize
she was falling
into
the black
hole
that this
was what
wanted
her energy
her mass
herself
*******
pulling
with more force
than anything
she had ever
experienced

the realization
that her
entire life
was spent
waiting
to be devoured
by this
hell
oblivion
all she knew
was a
fabrication
never even
thought to wonder
what
she was circling
just
ignored
the glaring questions
ignored
the evidence
ignored
all of the signs
until
it was too late
to escape

event horizon

help me

i am trying
to gather
the momentum
strength
power
to get myself
outside
this point
of no
return
seems
impossible
seems
wasted
I won't stop
until I am devoured alive

I am the star
at an
event horizon

black hole
let me
free

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

"aw,
why don't you
smile!"
the man says,
looking at me.

"c'mon,
you old thing,
fly!"
the child says,
kicking the dead bird.

I'm not going to smile
to look pretty for you
a sight to see
a sight for sore eyes
I am not
a dog.

in my
abusive
relationship
my ex would tell me
every day
to clean his room
clean the basement
do the laundry
if i didn't
I was treated
like a bad
dog.
made to look at the mess
but
it was not mine.
many times,
when I did
my
job
it wasn't sufficient
"I *******
HATE
CLUTTER"

clean it yourself,
then.
but no,
I did.
even when
I didn't like you.
even when
I hated you.

when I was 19
at the bookstore
a man
told me to get him
a card,
could have reached it
himself
could have done it
himself
guess I misheard him
and got him the wrong one
"are you stupid?!"
in his thick
accent
"stupid girl
get me
a napkin.
throw it out
here,
throw it out
I said"

you can't be any
good at video games,
you're a girl.

you can't be
bisexual
you're just doing it
for attention.

you can't
wear that
and expect people to respect you
expect people
not to harass you
expect people
to think you're smart
expect people
to not think you're a
****.

IF
I am a ****
for being confident with my body
for being comfortable
with
my sexuality
for being open
about
my orientation
for enjoying
***
then yeah, I am
I am not ashamed
of any of those things
and they do not make me
less of a
human.

don't
tell me
to smile.
don't
tell me
what to do
or
when to do it
I will do
what I want
whenever the ****
I want


I won't
smile.
I will wear
tank tops
and makeup
and beat your ***
in every video game
make you feel
worthless
I will
speak my mind
have opinions
morals
I will
read literature
learn
educate myself
educate others
I will
have ***
with whomever I want
safely, but
without any shame

I will
be
human

My desire:

When you danced your way
into my life,
you brought with you
a light;
one which illuminated
the scene around it.

A world -
which was previously
burdened
by imperative darkness -
now exposed to my sight.

Your magnificence
consequently
revealed
the beauty in my own world:
one which I had forgotten,
one which I had
closed the doors upon -
deeming happiness
impossible to find.

I suppose,
what I'm trying to say
is:
you are the light of my life.
But somehow,
those words don't serve justice.

None of my words
serve
justice
to how I feel for you.

Those
nights,
the
music,
mood,
dancing -

are what
I imagine
my heaven
would be.

We could be anywhere -
I could have
nothing
to my name
except black lipstick
and a tenacious heart -
whenever
I'm with you,
I know it's the only place
I need to be.

I wish I could tell you
how you take me
out of this world -
but habitually,
I find it
difficult
to communicate
the music of my heart.

Perhaps,
it's because
alongside
my poor choice of words
and
jumbling of sentences;

whenever
I look into your eyes
the only thought
I can be sure of,
is that
you have the most beautiful face
I have ever seen.

And when you smile -
forget anything
I had on my mind -
your smile
is the kind you read about;
one that makes people
want to do right,
one that
melts away worry;
one
that makes people
fall in love.

the garden holds
an aromarous display
of flowers
sprouts of tulips
with their
caressed petals
bringing life
to the dirt they were
grown from

all planted
with a purpose
someone wanted
to see them bloom
wanted to see all
but the dandelion
the pesky
****

I am the dandelion
plucked
by the child's hands
given a purpose
for I sprouted without one

here, mama
look, I brought you
a flower
I thought it was
just as pretty
as you!

smacked
to the ground
"youre saying
I'm as ugly
as that hideous
****?"

the one
that never goes
away
the one
that shows up
when you want it the least
stealing
your sunshine
stealing
nutrients
from the tulips
and roses

in the garbage
with an old
banana peel
and empty containers
of yourt
I hear the child
cry

I am sorry
to only be a burden
I am sorry
I could not impress
your mother
I am sure I will be
one of many
unsatisfactory
gifts

I did not ask to be here
a mistake
a pest
never appreciated
only causing
trouble

I am the dandelion
the child is me
won't you let me
grow
freely

life is strange.
I wonder frequently
why I am conscious
did the me that I am
spring to be out of
nothingness?

"energy cannot be created;
nor destroyed"

what was I, then,
before I became me?
sometimes, I daydream
and imagine
that before being born into this hell
I was just beams of enegy
shooting out
from a supernova.

flying
past
star systems
and
comets
and nothingness
being almost nothing
no
consciousness
not yet

that is just
a daydream.
I am not religious.
but
the concept of heaven
seems pretty ******
to me.
bliss, ****
I don't want
eternal
anything.

I would get used to it.
living in bliss
would become normal
even if
it is a stark contrast
from the way
I am living right now.

no,
personally,
my idea is that
when I die
my consciousness evaporates
my soul becomes
what I was
before me
and I no longer
have thoughts,
or emotions.
that used to scare me.
it's not frightening,
because in nothingness,
you have no concept
of frightening.

you also have no concept of happiness
but none
of sadness either.
no embarassing memories
or boredom
or headaches
or being sick
I won't even
be able to miss my dogs
for I will have no concept of them.

I am not scared
of death
nor
nothingness
I welcome them
but will wait
until I get an invite.

one of the biggest questions
that used to plague me
was
why does anything exist at all?
I don't think there's an answer
as to why.
I think it just does.
and existence
means
experiencing
all of it
the happiness,
the *******
the anger
and depression

duality
is in
everything

I am not horrible
well, in some ways
I am
but in an equal amount
I am also
wonderful
and the same goes for you,
too,
though I see
each side
of the duality of your being
as something beautiful.

the favorite stuffed animal
from a now-grown child
lies
in a pile of mud
soaked through with rain
after one of the dogs got ahold of it
and forgot
to bring it back inside

the baby bird makes a running
leap
and tries to lift her wings
to surprise her mother
with the gift of flight
before she comes home with dinner
total failure
lying fifteen feet
from her nest
with a broken wing
and a voice thats too small
her mother will never
notice
the baby bird will decompose
and become one
with the earth

the blank journal
which was purchased
over a year ago
lies
collecting dust
under piles of
never-to-be-used school supplies
hopes of confessions
or doodles
or even notes
are lost
as it has been forgotten
no one even
remembers
that it exists at all

everything
is exactly the same
as it's always been

"You are not alone. There is beauty in sadness. Many run from it or treat it as something that shouldn't be. We need to feel sadness to feel joy. Your sadness is cold. Can it be made to feel warm?”

can it?
I am starting
to think
yes

realizing
everything you said
carries its own weight
in truth
without sadness
I wouldn't know joy

duality
is in
every part of this universe
from
the ever shifting
ocean
in my soul
to the massive star
we named
the sun
and
she shines
because of duality

massive
amounts of energy
bursting
pushing
to get out
the weight
of her being
crushing
pushing down
with equal
force

the suns
core
fuses
transfers
makes
something else
out of
what is inside her

her hydrogen
becoming
helium
the constant change
creating
something almost
stable
almost
predictable

one day
there will be nothing left
inside of her core
to fuse

one day
I will have nothing left
inside of my soul
to write

when there is no more
hydrogen
left
no more
passion
left
she will collapse
under the weight
of her existence

the pressure
of this alone
causes
more
change
heavier
elements
heavier
thoughts
she will swell
growing
larger
darker
intrusive
making us feel
her being

leaving us
with no where to go
but to accept
and to be
engulfed

after
there is nothing left
she will collapse
from
her giant self
overbearing
us and our neighbors
becoming
a fragment of who
she used to be
rotating
still
the passion
is gone
her life source
is gone
the light
lingers
until she has nothing left
her light
burns out
and
until time stops
she will stay
a brown
quiet
dwarf
all that's left
are her memories of
the life
she gave
to us

I hope
when it is my time
when my fuel
has become heavy
and when I engulf
those
around me
forcing
my deadly heat
onto
my
planets
that I won't collapse
into
a smaller star

into
a lesser version
of me

i want to be
big enough
that I explode
tearing
through what's left
with the beams of energy
I've stuffed inside of me

let my supernova
carry the dust
of the planet
you were
let me
push you elsewhere
farther
let me
bring new life
energy
hope
when I explode

and then
let me eat
anything
that gets too close
you will never leave
you are mine

loving this **** ghost
who will never be alive
like drinking poison

only your essence
to haunt me every day
never the true thing

I want to feel warmth
not the absence of real love
paranormal dreams

my day -
a chaotic
downward spiral
angry, entitled faces
glare at me
expect me to juggle
thirteen flaming tennis *****
while running
full speed ahead
to their every
beck and call

like,
when your computer
gets a virus
and fifty-five million tabs pop up
careening out of control
giving no chance
to even close out of one -
a clusterfuck of stress

when I finally get
my ten-minute break
I sit outside -
alone -
can't deal with
one more ******* person
just let me
smoke my cigarette
calm my anxiety
***** my head back in
in solitude
before walking back
through the gates of hell

don't smoke those,
you're killing yourself.

no
*******
way
I
had
no
idea

do I know you?
you're certainly not family,
nor a friend
definitely not
someone who gives a ****
about my health
or well-being

what if I want
to **** myself?
what if that's
my goal?
who ARE you
to tell me what to do?

maybe,
you think your input
will resonate inside of me
*******, he's right
put down the pack
for good

maybe,
you just want to feel
like you're a good person
boost your ego
thinking
you did something nice
helped
in one way

all you do
is make me want another
leave me the **** alone
a cigarette
is not an open invitation
to talk about my health
to comment on my life
****
off
I don't care what you say
your words
aren't important to me
just like I
am not important to you

mind your own
*******
business

I crave your presence

the energy
which follows you like a shadow
electrifies my body
magnifies
my awareness
which is always
fine tuned
to you

you are
my personal drug
the high
you give me
is unlike any other
excites my body
and my mind
putting me in a daze
so that I
stumble
over words
embarrass myself

you never fail
to leave me
with a colorful
imagination

one filled
with thoughts
of you and me

passion
and lust
paint the scenes
in my mind
tempting me
to tell you to
get to know
me
let your hands
be your eyes
and see
how my body feels
exploring
new territory
relieving
tension

I am hungry
for you
but I wonder
if I ever do
get to have you
will it
spoil
my appetite?

will I
grow accustomed
to your taste
after a few bites
and become bored
discard you
like a half eaten
apple
no longer
hungry
at all?

alas,
I crave you still
you wave hello

and in return
the smile I give you
screams all of this

your hands
tediously twist
and pull
the rubix cube
not to impress
others
with your
speed of completion
but for your own
satisfaction
it will sit on your side table
for years
the mountain
you will never climb

before
your older brother
gave it to you
he rearranged
the stickers
an impossible puzzle
his prank
forgotten by him
amongst hundreds of others

your arms
scrub painstakingly
to wash away the
dark stain
on your
kitchen floor
which never fails
to catch your gaze

it has become
your routine
to spend an hour
every Sunday
cleaning
the persistent spot

curse it's existence
imagine life
without it
even though
it has become
a safety net for you
the only thing
you can count on
being there for you
when you arrive home

still,
your efforts
never cease

you will never discover
it was a fault
of the painters
a careless flaw
ignored
as they completed
the top coat

it does not matter
how much I try
to heal this
loneliness
or how many
different ways
I try to fill my
emptiness-
it is a bottomless
hole

swallows
everything thrown in
the hunger
is never satisfied
I do not think
it will ever
be full
do not think
I am able to feel whole

but
that doesn't stop me
from trying

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

my tears
remind me
I am real

my emotions
have frostbite
exposed to
such coldness
they shut off
so I feel nothing at all

then misery comes around
and warms them up
just enough
so I can
feel
the true pain I am in

how critical my state is

it's ironic
how major depression
can make me
oblivious
to how depressed
I really am

like floating inside
a storm cloud
living in gray
experiencing
nothing
but blandness

until I fall
just a small amount
and realize
I'm inside
a torrential downpour
big enough
to sink Noah and his ark
big enough
to swallow this planet whole

"If you dont like the weather in Boston,
Just wait a minute"

last night
it was seven degrees outside
my teeth chattering
holding my body
for warmth
as I waited for my taxi
to arrive

the hail
felt like it was tearing my face into pieces
with every ice pellet
that hit my skin
I felt was tearing
pieces of you off my flushed,
warm cheeks

now,
it is morning
I havent slept.
my mind has been occupied
by you,
and lust filled fantasies
of you
inside of me
filling me until
I could burst

it is morning
the pellets that lashed me
violently
and landed in a soft pile
outside my bedroom window
are melting

I see the sunrise
the day
meeting the night
in a lustful embrace

if our bodies ever meet
I promise to make your sun rise
and then erupt
in a beautiful display
of spicy red
with hints of purple
to leave on the hotel sheets
a reminder
that tomorrows sunrise
is just a day away

you may be colorblind
but I will show you red
with my tongue,
my mouth
my lips

believe me
I will show you
color
how it's meant to be

"i'm sorry,"
doesn't quite describe
the feeling
inside me
after hurting someone
who honestly, loyally
cared for me
and my well-being

someone who could do that
when i couldn't even try.

"i'm sorry"
doesn't get the point across
that i broke
something so pure
and it wasn't even an accident.
it's not like,
i was unaware
we were exclusively together
when i reached out
and flirted with other people.
it's not like
i was oblivious
that we were monogamous

i still proceeded
to throw the heart you gave me
onto the ground
and stomp on it

my too-kind boss,
says it's because
i am depressed
and it was an effort of self destruction
destroy,
the only light
in my life
destroy,
our love
when you were the only creature
on this planet other than my mother
to truly care for me.
destroy,
knowingly,
secretively,
hiding
where we stood
where i stood
leaving you
waiting
in this downpour
with the impression
i would be right back in five minutes
but really, i was already on my way elsewhere.

i wish life was easy.
i wish i was a simple individual
i wish
i knew how
to love,
and be loved
without subconsciously trying to **** it up for myself
maybe it's because i believe i don't deserve it
maybe it's something more shallow than that
i wish i had reasons
for my depression
just like,
i wish i had a reason
why i crushed our relationship.

if i were to be selfish,
i would beg you
to take me back
beg you
to cuddle me
and spend the night with me
giggling
and holding each other close
i would tell you,
it will never happen again
that it was a dumb mistake
and please give it one more shot

but i love you
so i can't do that

instead,
i will deal with the bitter loneliness
that i created for myself
deal,
with the fake caring
the forced attention
pretending to be
somebody i'm not
for admiration
when you
were the only person
to love me for who
i actually am.
was it worth it?
no.
attention,
and lust,
is not love.

i know you wouldn't
take me back
even if i got on my knees
and begged for your forgiveness.
you are intelligent
and you respect yourself
and i will refuse to do that
because
on the off chance that you do
i know in my heart
i don't deserve it, not even a little bit

i'm crying as i write this
but i've gotten really good
at forcing down tears
and making my voice sound normal
to tell the man
i'm checking out
to have a nice evening
and i break down in tears
as he tells me
"keep the change, ok?"

no matter how i try
everyone
can see i'm broken.
i don't deserve
your kindness
your love
nothing at all
from anyone
not even
eighty-nine cents

hatred
for every human
that's ever existed
how pathetic,
naive,
stupid

they fill me
with disgust
and pity

isn't it ironic
how my
pretentious
view of humanity
is matched
by my inherent desire
for their company?

making me the
most pathetic
most disgusting
most pitiful
one of all

I'm ******* lonely as hell dude

can't stand to be around anyone
but even more,
can't bear to be alone with my mind

intimacy and conversation -
regardless of quality -
serve as a distraction
from the feeling of dread
which won't leave me
ever

in my solitude
it feels like
something is laughing
at my existence:

a cockroach
with a superiority complex
pretending to be dignified
like it won't be crushed
immediately
when stepped on

SOMETHING OR SOMEONE
PLEASE
END MY LIFE

every tear that falls
carries
a piece of my soul
that will drip
and fall onto the pavement
never to come back
to the vessel that is myself
again

I wake
from dreams of you
like waves of the ocean
that break
upon the shore

a persistent feeling
of dissatisfaction
hovers quietly
above me
making no sound
but

always falling
always dripping
always coating me
so that every damp
footstep
I leave behind
reminds me
it will never leave me alone

the wetness
from my raincloud
and
the water
from the ocean of my dreams
become
the same liquid
that permeates my being

interchangeable
undistinguishable
from one another

tell me -
why do I dream
of disappointment?

what are some of your skills?
besides
hurting those who
love me
I'm exceptionally good at
not
eating
for extended
periods of time
and have
plenty of experience
with avoiding
responsibilities

why do you want to work with us?
so I
can continue
living
while wishing
I were dead?
so I
can have money
to buy
food
I won't eat
games
I won't enjoy
clothes
I'll never wear?
so I can
buy
indie authors
books
and make myself
broke
by supporting their work

why should Gigantic Corporation Inc. hire you?
you shouldn't
I'll be late
frequently
and
probably
slack off
every time
I get the chance
but please
hire me?
I need
money
and something
to do
sleeping
in bed all day
only
anchors
my depression

what's your least favorite part of each day, and why?*
what kind
of ******* question
is this?
is this a joke?
my least favorite part
of each day
is
waking up
going to sleep
and the time
in between

how about
I ask you
a question?
what's the excuse
you tell yourself
every day
to make yourself
feel human?
do you
make
a persona
create
who you are
a fake
personality
formed out of
tv shows
and
books you've read
other people's
traits
that you admire
and think
would make you
admired
by others?
or are you
exactly
who you are?

what's
YOUR
least favorite part
of each day and why?
is it lying
to your wife
when you tell her
that you love her?
is it lying
to your children
telling them
that it will get better?

or is it
getting up in the morning
to go to work
to the same
******
job
that you're stuck in
but you have to
do it
because you have
a family
to support
necessities
to purchase
prostitutes
to buy?

I feel like your questions
are mocking me.
I feel like you're
probably
a pretentious
****

anyways,
I'm looking forward
to working
for your company
I will be
a positive
(-ha!)
and motivated
(-too funny!)
staff member
to bring
to the team
I hope you
will give me
this
opportunity

promise
I won't
let you
down

Officially,
the calendar now marks
that it's been over a year
since I've last had your taste.
I should be proud
of myself
- and I am -
but more so, I am
surrounded by frustration.

I cannot write code like I used to.
Neither can I
find the words to write poetry
like I used to.
With you,
my creativity and passion
came effortlessly:
like turning on a tap
from which the essence
flowed,
whenever I took
my next hit.

Now, it's been
over a year from you;
and the passion from which
you robbed me of
is starting to come back.

I refuse to let
my memories of you
taint
that which I love.

My subdued passion
for programming,
video games,
and literature
shall not be dull forever.

With every new moon
that passes,
the fog in the mirror
continues to fade,
as my reflection
becomes clear.

And with it,
I feel (more than anything)
the ambition
that which you stole from me
ever-so-slowly return.

I so desperately
searched for my soul
while in your grasp.
Clouded by your embrace,
I lost myself,
and saw only the image you painted
in the mirror.

In time I will find myself again.
Fully.

One year clean
is something to celebrate.

if everyone answered
honestly
when they were asked
how are you
I wonder
how many lives would be saved

how many friendships made

as for me,
I'm depressed
exhausted
anxious
crashing
but still smiling

and one of a million

though
considering
I'm asked this question
at least two hundred times
during work
maybe it's better
we aren't honest
rhetorical question
generic response
maybe it's better
we hide

I am the water
that falls
from your shower head
caressing your body
before
dropping
onto the bathtub floor
I get pulled
towards the drain
and
******
down

I am the ***
hanging on the rack
above
your stove
knock me on accident-
I will
fall
to the ground
breaking the silence
of the night
with the loudest
bang
I will wake up
your entire
household
as I plummit
down

I am the driftwood
floating along
this river
bumping
into rocks
and debris that
the current takes me through
I have reached
the peak of the waterfall
you will hear the roar
as I come
crashing
down

I am the skin that sags
around your *******
as you get older
you
curse me
every time
you look in the mirror
I am the cause
of your insecurity-
where you put the blame
for your marriages failure-
wrinkled
skin
being
pulled
down

I am the ship
with a ruptured
side
my buoyancy
broken
as I start to
tip
towards certain doom
the families and
lives
of the souls aboard me
realize
their fate
and show their true,
human
nature
as we
sink
towards the ocean floor-
as we
sink
down

wouldn't know
life
without it

gravity

bearing it's
pressure
force
attraction
inescapable
******* me
towards her
never leaving
no matter
how much
I beg

always
taking me
down

i feel sick
more sick
than i have in a long time

and i don't just mean
with myself
though
that sickness
is ever present
i mean
the back of my throat
feels like donald trump
cut off his *******
and shoved it down there.
and
my head feels fuzzy
and full
of water
like vertigo
without the dizziness.
i am cold
but i am not cold.
yet to me
the way my body feels
finally matches
the way i feel
inside

i need to finish closing this bookstore
i need to go home
to my bed
to my family
to people who love me
but this bookstore
is the only place that feels like home
besides inside your arms
in your bed
which, metaphorically,
i shat in.

today
i googled
how to buy cyanide
and got angry
at the website
for not giving me better directions
on ******* myself.

sometimes
there are people who enter your life
for whatever reason
and if god were real,
they would be angels.
one of them
today
gave me a reason to live.
he told me to keep writing
and i did
even if it's just me
typing
with tears streaming down my face
but it helps
it makes me not feel so alone
it gives me something to do
when i am lonely
and when i don't feel whole
instead of searching for my own inner peace
in strangers eyes.

the second angel
i met today,
they left a comment
on a piece of my writing
telling me
it brought them empathy,
and understanding
to a negative part of their life.

now, if i am a horrible person
and i don't see a point
to life
to being in debt
to being depressed
to hurting others
to hating myself
and everything around me
well, it makes it all worth it
if ridding this negativity
through words
can somehow
bring positive light
to somebody else.

somebody better than me.
i will write
and i will continue to write
until i die
from either somebody killing me
or natural causes
i will not
take my own life
not for the sole reason
that it would actually break my mothers heart
and she is too kind of a person
to deal with that
but because
my pain
becomes someone else's
closure

because
negativity
can become positive
if you transfer the power.

because
music
art
and
literature
are the only things worth living for
and the only things
that anyone ever
needs
as a reason to live.

thank you.

i wish i could only see in monochrome
like you
i wouldn’t have to witness
the way the blue of my eyes
have seemed to achromatize
ever since
i stopped feeling rapture
for existence.

i wish i could only see in monochrome
like you
so i could avoid
the redness of the callow faces
that drift by me each day
the flush of their cheeks
filled with hope.

it makes me envious
for their sanguine blush
is untouchable to me.
i only flush red
with anger.

i wish i could only see in monochrome
like you
did you know,
our eyes are the same tint of blue?

take a scalpel
to my emotionless face
cut me a new smile
an open wound that stings

razorblade grin

and as the blood
stains my skin
and
soaks
my work clothes

maybe
I'll believe
that I'm real
maybe
it will show me
how to feel

carve me a face
to make me
human

whatever
you want me
to be
as long
as it's not me

What am I supposed to do with all
Of this
Unhinged
Passion —
Okay, calling it passion is a stretch.
It’s boiling ******* anger
For my own existence.

What am I to do?
Share it? With whom?
Who might appreciate?
Even if they do,
I’d probably be dissatisfied
About something.
I’m sure of it.

Why am I so
Existentially dissatisfied?
At what point will I think
Anything is enough,
Or worthy of my
Approval?

Does it need to destroy me in order for me to respect it?

I’m making myself sound like a *****.
Really, I am
But a self aware one.
Like, I realize that I’m a pretentious *******
And I hate myself for it,
So that you don’t have to.

Why do I long for attention,
When I am so
Disgusted
By it

Just pathetic,
It’s like I think
the window which I’m looking out of
Makes me better
Than those who have a different view.

Sometimes I wish I was stupid so that I wouldn’t think I was better than other people.
Or at least stupid enough
To ignore my own hypocrisy.
Why the ****
does it always come back to
That story about
The flowers for that dead ******* rat

Is it too late to get a lobotomy?

the female sparrow
never seems to be satisfied
with just one lover.
she ***** them
then gets bored
and moves on to the next
sparrow
who can give her what she wants
maybe she seeks
diversity
because she has low self esteem
maybe she seeks
entertainment
because she is depressed
maybe she seeks
multiple lovers
because the moment she gets what she wants
she becomes bored
and she sees too much of them
and its no longer a mystery
i am the sparrow
with a multitude of men
i keep by my side
yet none of them love me
am i looking for love?
or a distraction?
i can tell you this much
valentines day
*****
for both the sparrow
and me.

I used to wish I had
another life

daydream
about living
without the stress of mine
"if only,
life had given me
better cards to play"

now, I'm just envious
of others
minds

it's not
the cards I was dealt
that are the problem-

it's the constant overlooking
of plays
I could have made
continuous mistakes
my own
personal
issues
preventing me
from turning out
on top

used to think
(still kind of do)
that everyone who was
"happy"
were just deceiving themselves

lying
telling theirself
that they were happy
so much so
that they
believed it-
using
distractions
to keep their misery at bay

now I realize
that thought
was quite a bit
of self-projection

how nice it would be
to have passion again
emotion
my outgoing nature

I've been dealing with her for years
which leaves me to wonder-
has my personality
just been
a fabrication
a mask that I've worn
to hide
depressions ugly visage?
have I worn it
so frequently that
I started to recognize it
as my own
reflection?

I don't know who I am anymore
though,
it's not like I ever have

I don't know what life is anymore
I've definitely
never known
what that's been all about

for the past six months,
(year?....)
(two years?...)
(my entire life?...)
I've only had
two states
of emotion-
dark blue
or
gray

dark blue
is when I am inconsolable
with tears
absolute misery
my soul
shattered
into a million pieces

dark blue
is when I have
panic attacks
over how horrible
of a person I am
lying
on my bathroom floor
choking on my own tears
choking on my own breath

gray
is
nothingness
something
horrible could happen to me
a job loss,
a heartbreak,
a loss of a friend
and I will experience
no emotion

like an empty
void
throw whatever the ****
you want in there
I promise you
there will not be any
reaction

gray
with random
and sudden
bursts of blue

not the most
excruciating pain
just the constant
dull
throbbing
of the grayish blue
bruise
that you're always
trying
to cover up

I will
never
go away