Today was not a good day.
Nothing particularly awful happened,
Nobody was particularly upset,
But today was not a good day.
I wasn’t too hungry, or too tired, or too hot.
But today was just not a good day.
I ate meals, I smoked cigarettes, I drank coffee,
and I do not understand why today was not a good day.
The people around me were happy, and supportive, and very kind,
My atmosphere was overall congenial,
Yet today was still not a good day.

My forsaken heart yearns greatly for the answers to these questions I have in plentiful quantities. My castaway soul yearns for all the solutions. My distraught mind longs for the certainty to fix my conundrums, so tomorrow can be a good ******* day and not blend into this blur of unjustifiably somber days, I feel as though I have been living for so long.

We sat in silence while I stared off in to space,
and he stared at me
trying with all he had to get into my head
alas, to no avail.
A sadness so deep, it penetrates quivering bones.
So thick, he'd surely drown.
I was going to end things right then and there,
but instead
I ****** him.
Because I wanted nothing more than to feel close to him,
if only for a moment,
and that was the only way I knew how.
I was going to end things right then and there,
but I was afraid to wake up alone in the night.
I was going to end things,
but I couldn't stand the thought of losing him from my life.
I should have ended things,
because I feel so god ****** detached.
Because I feel so much *******
nothing.

Dry skin,
like wine soaked paper evaporated.
Festering, tightly wound minds.
Failed attempts at human interaction,
we coexist like cars
cooperating without concern
yet never do we touch.
Coming to terms with my cold-hearted,
cynical
insensitive ways.
I am this way,
and I don't matter.

As we lie together naked
smoking cigarettes in bed
running fingers up the curves of my body
he said
"I wish I had more hands"
And now for the first time
to somebody
I am a person
worth loving
not a role
worth filling

I cannot be touched through your computer or cellphone screen.
Because, I am more than a profile. I am more than a few lists of music, movies, and books I like. I am more than a few cell phone captured photographs shared with “friends” most of whom we don’t even speak with. My love life is more than a relationship status. My taste is more complex than a list or two.  Our beauty cannot simply be captured and put on the internet. But alas, neither can most of our flaws. I cannot read emotion from words on the screen of a cellphone, nor can I express it to it's fullest extent. It is not real. I am a gal who must be experienced first-hand with smell, hearing, and most importantly touch. I am all I am, in person; nothing more, nothing less. Take it or leave it.

I am a mere spectator of the wisdom and debauchery of the world and lives around me.
Lost in speculation, my field notes are scattered and undated.
My prerogative and destination remain unknown,
I remain lost in the research.
I am still searching for some sort of certainty
in surroundings and a mindset so fickle.