i taught myself to be who i am
perhaps my life isnt always all that it seems
weeks i cant remember, but it's easier to recall my dreams
the literal, not future

because what future can be seen
when there is so much in the way?
my thoughts are like a strainer
holding the negative
and watching all the positive drip through
maybe ill feel better when the ticking stops
when the little hand meets the 3 on the clock
maybe when my weight starts to dust itself off
or when i fall in love
when I finally feel satisfied enough to just sleep it off

its getting harder to stay awake
to make my running thoughts run away
its getting more difficult to feel much of anything lately

if all the lives i keep living
ill keep forgetting
then which do i get
and who does the living?

am i forgetting something?
am i living somewhere
am i living?
have i ever remembered?

it goes
it gets
so far away from here
i go
i get
so much farther from where
i remember

i don’t call
i don’t text
i cant remember
where i left my bed

i cant remember
where i left my bed

i think that its pretty far away from here.

my depression has become so apparent that it goes unnoticed
that thought terrifies me

ive become so good at acting like i understand how my mind works
maybe so good that it believes me
ive gotten so bad with words
that i cant recognize my own writing

its getting harder and harder to scribble out just one letter
its been months
im not doing any better

how are you doing?

perhaps i am holding secrets
and the holder is keeping me captive
like my mind has been caged up
imagination flew someplace far off

and everyones in love now
while i pretend to care about things
when I'd rather just drown

i dont ******* get that i dont get it
that this thing im searching for might just be impossible to find, might just be broken.

wish i could say i didnt care
wish i was strong enough for my lies to even sound half believable
wish waking up in the morning didn't seem so insufferable

i wish i knew i was loved.
or at least what that even feels of.
i wish i could stop acting so ******* tough.
i wish i had the power to say i even really knew anyone.
i wish my mother speaking in tongues stopped making me feel so uncomfortable.

how am i doing?
i feel numb
i feel empty and full and useless and like im being used.
sometimes i feel like even my dog hates me.
so how am i doing?
i don't really have a clue

maybe i should go back to plan A.
i wish i remembered how to pray.

forget brushing trapped teeth
i’m full of them
locked bathroom doors
and stars sweep you off your feet

i’m in the backseat of your car
sunlight, mountains, enough of talking
enough of me
i can see the end of the world from here

do you remember me?
crashing slowly, tears underneath sheets
a hallow heart, trying to be nice
melting hears under sweltering heat

i learn to be silent
winding roads, and the eclipse, all gone
reasoning is hard when eyes are open,
sad season is lost, and you’re lost when it’s not

i’m sorry you’re getting away from me
i’m full of it
tourist towns and rickety ****
i’m sorry i haven’t felt any of this trip

terrible memories clouded with
bright green grass, brown, wood and ash
forests speak in your dreams, vacant floors
empty shelves and unraveled curls

coffee cup to the moon, praying, begging
“close this moment, lock it up, make it right”
i’ll cry and scream to make this what i want it to be
pretty thing, i wouldn’t say it’s fine
but you can twist this whichever way you want it to seem

there is no rhythm to my poems anymore
i've lost touch, lost the skill to manifest these thoughts
perhaps the ability to think
my thoughts have congealed, melted, turned my eyelids from red to pink

it is exhausting
feeling nothing without knowing of apathy
it is like drowning
but you just never sink

i want a movement, baby
i want pain and a heart on the side
letting things go is like watching myself die

living life is not living if it is all for the wait
i want to feel the sun on my bones
feel my soul for a change

when does it get better than this?
never knew myself to be so lazy, tired, stoic, stained
i want to be myself or whoever else for a day
i can't seem to shake this feeling again

ive learned that the man in the moon
might be a bit tired of hearing my complaints
and the universe doesn't care about me
but it's no surprise really,
since it's got the whole **** universe to take care of

i was too busy relying on the things that bound me
it all made sense in my head
and none of it had a consequence
but superstitions only have as much power as you give them

i am learning to be the center of my own universe
and to live as loudly as possible
i think im on the right course.
my train of thought is clear and mellow
and there's no sign of derail

i am slowly improving, growing, and learning to breathe
times are tough
but i am tougher
it's taken me years to realize
that i don't have to be good
I just have to be better than i was before

this is stretching, flying, drifting.
i am no longer dwelling
and when i am
it's fading

this is failing, wiping, closing.
this is shutting my eyes
and breathing
for once in my life

this isn't dwelling
this is living

this is me
trying

im tired of all of these metaphors
let me tell it to you straight

I MISS YOU
I MISS NOT CARING
I MISS HAVING SOMEONE TO CALL UPON
I THINK YOUVE FORGOTTEN ME
I CANT HIDE FROM YOU ANYMORE
YOU ARE EVERYWHERE
I DONT DESERVE A THING IVE GOT

i am so SICK and TIRED of people telling me just to COPE
i can't cope anymore when everything smells like you and tastes like you and i keep thinking that
it's a sign from you

and so many
"maybe if i was younger"s

but i can't hide a guilty heart
my black hair is matted and seems to turn grey in the light
if i hadn't done that one thing
on that one day
would i be so ******* as I am now?

can you keep a secret?
i hate hiding from you
i really do

one day i will stretch my arms across my peach light duvet and the sun will peek through the window and none of us will fleet.

i prefer to think of titles after ive written the song

i need a break from people i see so frequently
im falling into traps more easily
i need new friends and a stronger defense

my considerate eyes and hopeful thoughts
so quickly turn to those that rot
id love to not have to hope
how does it feel to just be?
is anyone else truly alive in this world?
or just me?

this is raw honesty
i don't want your pity

hoping is like watching paint dry
ive got good intentions
but no reward at the end of it all

i don't want to "have been"
i want to be!
i want to not get-bored-of
i want to see the light in hoping again

i forget what i need,
replacing the bubble up of unwanted thoughts with heavy heaves and maybe some other unprecedented love

the kind of love that doesn't make you choked up, stuttering over words you can't get out and holding back laughs in the back of the room, instead i stay;
head down
eyes shut
block them out
close it up

it's hard to end what could have
but it's easier that it didn't
i'm not patient therefore I cannot wait for you, and I cannot wait until you've changed your mind, felt what you've missed, lost what you almost had. could have had, didn't want, or was too ignorant to see.
if you wish to forget me
so it shall be
i will not stand in the corner, drooling for you, for negativity and the i cannot do without you mentality. i will not envy, for i will see all i can deal without.
i've lost too much to waiver over how these things could have been.
i will not miss you
for you will see what i'll grow into
what i can become without you

how comfortable life is without a filter and a hand around your throat.

i am far from finding home here

the letters my eyes have skimmed from my brain

are all wishing me farewell

even the clouds wave me away

this path is better walked alone

and nothing i say is ever set in stone

no deadlines are due

nothing i say gets to you

or is said in truth

comfort is a fleeting nostalgic feeling
maybe my comfort 
is when I’m uncomfortable 

let my heartbeats lead the way

in time with my steps

forget everything you’ve ever learned
don’t reminisce in the voices 
you’ve never heard

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.
****.

the aftershock of knowing that
nothing will come after this

19 years of hoping, longing, asking
where did that pain go? that waiting?
the bliss of knowing that
all that comes after will always compare to this
the worst part of my day is over
the best time of my life is 2 years younger

the begging, the feeling of hoping that
I can still taste you, smell the smoke on your breathe
the realization that
you took from me the only thing I thought would make sense

you look so small atop that mountain, the way down
and mine - I'd hope - so large - as I hit the ground
the aftershock of knowing that this never was a good thing,
you were just your lips and my sense was the protagonist missing.

do you see behind their words?
youve been wrapped around their finger so much that youve rung out
a shell of a man is what you have become

do they love you or the promises you make?
do they know how much for her youve thrown away?

nah, they never bend until theyve broken anyway
and youll turn around and everyone will be gone
whipped is what they call it
but how long will you wander?
you should quit your head for a real friend

i am my favorite song
i am rhythms and patterns, strategically placed
i am mezzo-piano
i am fortissimo

I am dynamics and crescendo
i am all the words i don't know

i am the sound of my guitar
with the "phaser" **** turned up

i will be amplified, i will be loud
and looped
and manic.

im the noise you can't get out of your head
i am sound
i am a whisper and a shout
perfectly blended

i am velocity
i am the build-up
and then the drop

i am the echo in a dark room
i am my favorite song.

wish i could go back
to falling apart
ive never learned how
to replace it all
its all static
stupid
chasing the fall
like a dog
somehow i get stuck in the tone of its call

guilty for nothing
chewing off cords,
can you hold my hand
like you did before
am i too big
to lay in your lap
i know i wanted to leave
but can i please come back

i am always your eyes
between your ankles on the floor
i’m what you can’t see in yourself anymore