i see love and light and cringe
at its generic quality, all the same
all beautiful and endearing and encouraging
and i can't help but feel the cynic in me laughing
at the mawkish displays and efforts
and at my own generic skepticism

just one charming quality of my
self deprecating form of narcissism

i rose in structure, guided and conroled
carefully tendered and formatted to be
organized and on track
but as soon
as i left my home
i lost all that, though it barely ever took hold.
I just drank an entire *** of coffee and am now heading to bed
my floor is made of clothes and my shelves are made of books
and the glow in the dark stars on my ceiling are for the little girl
who wasn't allowed to tarnish her perfectly painted room
and i think being raised in such control has lead to an
excessive chaotic behaviour.

i dream of foggy bliss
a floating lagging sort of luxury
reminiscent of drug induced
bubbly bogus happiness

I'm only skin deep
and separate from myself
burrowing in this flesh
for a short time
and i feel bad for how
much i hate this body
that i'm in and i
often wonder if i cut through
the layers deep enough
would we separate.

i appreciate your service
and willingness to host
my sickening consciousness
but i'm really not deserving
nor do i really want this
so to whomever i stole
my body from just know
that i know that
i'm ungrateful.

everything is bathed in white
less pure than summer,
muddier, grey but piercing.
the drab and dragging cold
reaches through to touch bone
and turns everything to slush.
for once in a long while,
everyone is as muted as I.

Peace in existential dread
is the support that lifts my head
high above yours and
the peasants that
live beyond my room
and my solitude.

Hey so don't mind me
I'm just gonna walk over here
further away
just keep talking.
I'm listening.
You do your thing,
I'm just tired,
Just going for a little walk
away from here.
Don't worry,
I'm fine.

I am just going outside and
might be some time.