the water's changing
finding places to sink into
breathing deep
breathe's my type of food

we're getting older and
as i'm drifting further
i'm feeling farther from
myself

it's tight, again
i'm crammed, crying again
it's taken a while to lift my head
to see the light of hope again

i'm missing something but
it's beckoning
it's a pre-quarter-life crisis
it's pretty close to failure

my mind's buzzing
rarely sleeping
it's taken me seven months to realize
i miss therapy

it's no fun again
it's drivin off a cliff
it's tiring and it's dark out at 4pm
i'm trying to look somewhere else

maybe close my eyes instead

i really been out here
really been missing myself

i wish i could write about love

the winter breathes
tense, tension, and all chest
the windy bones,
forests applaud,
they all want to know.
i wish i could
witness this midnight snow
rarity is reaccurring
friends are fleeting
so in love it’s numbing
the ground could expand
countries close to coasts
and still the feeling of red
won’t leave me alone

but like i get it
its prom season
and everyone’s in love

but while your floating
im drowning
and love can’t bring me up

I woke up with my world in my hands
my world in numbers (worth), old hands (family), shared trauma (all of the above)
I wish I could feel like a kid again, spine bent and mind in tact
Clocks ticked and there was no meaning in relationships
I’m not old, I know
But I’m more of what I know, or less of whatever before, I don’t know
But I know: I’m perpetually alone, out-of-zone, proud and somewhat undone
I’m five years to 21 and I love my mom.
I’m body, all broken and sunken in. I’m unaware of mostly nothing at all
Pretentious and stuck up. Beautiful and ****** up.
Everything and all of it or none of the above.
I’m undecided, but that’s not a check in the box
I’m sad and I’m exhausted but you can’t major in that, can you?
I’m too tired to talk to you but I know that’s not an excuse.
So maybe I’m 21. Maybe I hate my mom. Maybe I’m not alone.
Maybe I live in a condo on the West Side and maybe I’ve checked into one.
Maybe just maybe I don’t need to know anything about me at all
Maybe I’m a question mark.
Or maybe I’ve missed it.
****.

one day, buy art supplies instead of clothes

choose not to trust many of those around you, except for the stars and strangers
love them more than yourself
let yourself feel something else
just for a month

it does not take a year to rewind
only a mindset
it’s all temporary if you want it to be

look at what only you want so see
take your life back and listen
hear the wind
and go with it.

and so here we are in pieces

theres something about this starving that
feels so appetizing
something about this apathy
this undecided feeling, something about this week
that seems so far from real

maybe it's the way i love the word haunting
the daunting snarl of crumbling
papers on homework after homework but somehow you're still failing
it's filling your lungs over and over with air
breathing in until you've lost feeling just to notice
you are still drowning

maybe it's the trust you lack in others
maybe it's in your inability to speak to anyone lest they ask first, waiting until the very last second before you complete something you hadn't done,
stressing over a list you've yet to make
feeling like your heart might burst with every bite you take

maybe it's friends, (or a lack-thereof) maybe it's you seeing them with so much love, maybe you've just become jealous or perhaps not enough?
it might be double texting on airplane mode, wishing you could have anything to say though you never really cared much about them anyway and...
and maybe they just hate your guts

but
maybe it's just you

maybe it's simply "another thing you've found to worry about"
maybe it's "because you're always on that phone"
maybe you've been the one in the wrong all along

because hey, those who stress so much about themselves but be selfish right? must be jealous. must be hard thinking of yourself so much that you've become a walking time bomb with a ticker that can never turn off.
must **** knowing nothing and thinking you know it all.
anxiety must be rough...
but maybe you're just not anxious enough?

(2)

Oh,
So it is bad again

But it's never the same is it?
It's always something, isn't it
It's lonely but unfamiliar
A minute and you're here, there,
you forget to breathe so you panic
go figure.

summer seemed like a dream but I've passed on now, and I'm beginning to wake myself up
you see these people in love
but I can't even unwrap my ******* tongue

it's hurts to think that you might never become
and you just wanna talk to someone, anyone
but isn't this the start you asked for from God?
my god, doesn't it seem so hard to believe in me anymore?

this patience of mine is wearing thin and what happens when it isn't
when an impossible wish, a sorry strength, a terrible addiction to perseverance what happens when it isn't?

i'm gone, or perhaps this is all
i've moved, i've waited for months, now what?

be yourself
but then who's in control?