If I look at this life,
At today, or tomorrow
Yesterday, I see what is behind me
I see your face, my smile
exactly the way we once were.
Still I wake up tomorrow,
another day of pretending.
This is okay, but inside denial.
more and more hollow,
the way my heart aches,
so I don't look for tomorrows.
I much rather turn around,
and look upon those yesterdays,
because right now, the next day,
they seem less worth while
They are as empty then
as they are now,
yesterday is worth my gaze.
back then was everything.

i have forgotten how to be myself, as if once when i was walking in a dream i forgot to wake my soul up. maybe it’s curled up sleeping in some far spiral of my fingerprints.
my friend tells me she can’t figure me out. she says the attic light is still flickering but the rest of the house looks dark. she says if you stare too hard at my eyes, you can see a noose up on the roof beam. she says i am standing on a stool, trying to decide if my life is worth taking.
i don’t know how to control myself. i lie awake at night wondering why i did things that make me cringe as soon as they happen. i lie awake asking myself how hard it would be to be normal. i tell myself that tomorrow, i will be perfect. i won’t laugh too loud, i won’t be a burden, i won’t speak unless i have to.
i spend so much time worrying about being perfect that i never get it right.

1324

I send you a decrepit flower
That nature sent to me
At parting—she was going south
And I designed to stay—

Her motive for the souvenir
If sentiment for me
Or circumstances prudential
Withheld invincibly—