let me paint my morning for you
I'm alone, in my room
it's a stormy summer morning
And we are sitting around talking

today we're wondering what to do.
Depression sulks deep into the sheets
"why get up! you don't have plans"
and the alarm begins to buzz
Optimist whimpers "its still early, I can get up and get rolling" but no one is moving
Hopeless Romantic dreams "maybe the mail man will come through and ask me how I'm doing"

today I woke up crying
       today I went to the gym
    and I forgot why I ever stopped going
today I told my friend I loved them
    and that we all have doubts, it's human
       today I ate my feelings through another salad
   and I told myself that it's okay, this is okay
today I walked around the lake
    and thought about how long it'd take to drown
  today I will apologize to my old best friend
I told them I wasn't good to them back then
  today I told my therapist I'm spiraling, and he said it was okay
     He said we are all struggling. Just trying to figure it out because no one's got it figured out
   today I was excited to keep learning
today I was not
  And I told myself that it was okay
   today I couldn't get of bed because I felt nothing towards school
   But I did get up eventually
but today I saw myself as someone capable of doing so much better
   and today I woke up with purpose
      and forgot why I ever stopped believing.

Stuck in a rut called desperation
I must really hate my motivation
Can't see the light of inspiration
looking down the tunnel of procrastination
Crawling out in moderation

In the future, I will have already missed you
I can just imagine you on the subway somewhere real busy. You'd be sitting there with your legs crossed with a book's pages sprawled out on your lap, like how I used to be. The lights shining in your eyes so you're not really looking up, but your letting the warmth in. The seats rattle and you're looking out the window.
         Maybe I just want to imagine a place where you're doing better and you aren't so anxious all the time. Somewhere you feel successful and accomplished and like college wasn't a waste.
        More realistically I can imagine you sitting on your phone, headphones in, shoulders slumped, eyes darting. You're on your way to somewhere busier than before. Just for work. A life in the city wasn't meant for you, I know that because you told me. And I listened.
        You're probably wearing something that screams you're gay and diligent about this interview, or this daily commute. There's a stabbing pain I get from thinking about you. How truly independent you have finally become. Thinking of you now is like hoping we had something more. Wishing I meant more to you then. Wishing I had made some kind of impact on this stoic statue.
      I envy what you're like to the people you can't help but love, and I'm saddened that I never got to experience you like that.
      Lucky me, I'm never going to be the one you drive two hours for. I wish the short hours I gave you made you feel special. Maybe felt, something more.

Now here you've got me
like a scene from a cult classic movie.
my legs trembling for a heart gauged open
and blood dripping
down your face
Tell me- when was the first time you saw me in pain?
Some can say,
soaked before the rain
they noticed me pray

that'll be the morning
When you feel me through the sheets
even after hurting
myself so deep
Have I told you the story of who I was yet?
Have I done a good enough job
convincing you
Why I love me
and why you should to