Holes in a wall give you a glance into a skeptical dimension
You see through, but have to ponder on what it is that you're seeing
The dimensions of life are an infinite amount
It just depends on how many eyes you have
And how your line of vision is aligned with the world

Your lips
Were the first thing I noticed
Gently parted
Breathing in and out

Oh to be your words
Conceived within your mind
Born upon your lips

Poetry.

Your lips are ******* poetry.

our phones draw these strange lines late at night
connecting adjacent moons
stringing us together
across cities, towns, lakes, hills
and we tie the bows with our lips
weave the ends in our tongues
taste every city
we can remember

you feel so kindred
so close to me
that when i hang up
i half look for you
in the room
before i catch myself

my feelings are fledgling.
(or i like to say they are)
the truth is, they are very much there
but i'm unsure of their exact nature
concerned that i am unable to experience love anymore
personally
it's like a flavor
i've run out of
and some sort of bad tasting, weak trickle
pours from my lips
to yours
clinging
to these strange lines

i hope
it is not
true

self-isolation
My mum tells me to leave the house more often and it’s not that I don’t want to it’s just that I can’t because the thought of only doing so makes my knees go weak but she keeps telling me to “just” meet up with friends.

2. not finding joy in what used to make you happy
It’s not that I don’t make plans with friends, because I do, it’s just that I don’t want to because I know that, as soon as I’m out doing things that used to make me happy and are supposed to still make me happy, I will have to pretend that I am, in fact, happy.
And it is exhausting.

3. insomnia
You tell me to sleep more because I look tired as if I am not aware of the bags under my eyes. You do not realise that they feel even worse than they look. You do not know that I am in bed early every single night because I do feel tired I just can’t sleep. Even though I am tired and my body is tired, my brain never is and I have tried reading and taking walks in the middle of the night and listing and counting sheep and insecurities and defeat and crushed wishes and possible ways to die.

4. thinking of death as “nothing big”
What scares most people is what intrigues me. I often find myself considering crossing the road right when a car rushes by or simply jumping out the window when I find myself in high buildings. It’s not that I want to die, it’s more that I am fascinated by how easy it is, opposed to everything else in life.

5. things that are supposed to be easy aren’t so easy any more
The biggest one is getting out of bed, I believe.
I have learned to put my alarm fifteen minutes earlier to let my brain and body accustom to the idea of having to face things that I don’t even know are going to happen. The fear of having to face the unknown is like a constant winter, freezing my throat shut and making breathing a whole lot more difficult than it is supposed to be.

6. being very aware of your breathing and heartbeat**
I never noticed how natural breathing was until I started to have trouble doing so. Now it just feels as though my lungs and my heart are in a constant fight to decipher which is the strongest which leaves me in a constant battle of having to focus on my breathing whilst my heart is making me feel as though someone is repeatedly punching me from the inside.
I know none of it makes sense and even if I try to explain it all to you, you will still tell me you don’t understand. But frankly, neither do I.

Being so aware of my breathing and heartbeat also makes me aware of the fact that they are still going, and that is really the only thing that matters in the end.
They are still going.