truth is,
i love you

and i ******* hate it

maybe you put too much faith in me

i'm agnostic, apathetic, aromantic
and too much of an antagonist to never let you down

you could drown me,
make me suffer for my attitude;
but i'll not atone for my sins

remorse is for the empathetic
and i am just

empathetic minus the em

I'm so sick.
I miss you, my body hurts and yearns for your love.
Come on, leave me, come back.
Love me, love me so much you can't breathe.
Because you planted flowers in my lungs and I can't breathe because of you.
Love you forever, your love

talk me down from my own fate
or i'll pour out my blood
open up my wounds for the world
father lift me up by my ears
brand me with a painful reminder
you do or do not do, i'll say it again
a prince of sadness, she lives
my tears collect in my chest
i'm too proud to call you anything
but a man of steel and anger
oh, you voodoo *******
i wish i could pin you all afternoon
you're a bittersweet apple in the
winter, the frigid wind of oymyakon
i never liked you, you leader
the grapevines look awfully familiar
that summer morning they withered away
she takes and takes and takes me home
i love her more than the currency
you clammy snake, quit constricting me
jump off the face of the earth into oblivion
save you before i have to save myself

you said you liked the way i made you feel,
said you've never felt happier than when you're with me

i said i liked the idea of you being home,
i said you could be the one that might make me fall

i can't describe this feeling

it's like i want to cry for no reason
(though i know i have plenty of them)

and it's 03:29 AM as i write this line,
wondering why i'm so obsessed with time;
but that's what insomnia does, i suppose

counting down the minutes,
like the more i acknowledge time slipping by, the faster it'll go

03:30 AM and i'm wondering
just how many of my poems have late night morning hours in them
and if anyone else finds the nauseating rhythm of
tick-tock's
as tedious as i do.

03:33 AM

sometimes it's not just my insomnia;
sometimes it's me, too

i can't help the way anxiety cripples my bones and
churns my stomach,
the idea of "lost time" haunting me

as if spending hours fretting over it
is somehow less of a loss than sleeping through those hours, blissfully ignorant
to the fear of missing something.

it's a fear that blankets me every other night, making the simple task of
closing my eyes
an impossible mission,
even though i know

i'm missing nothing.

00:36