We’ve got 30 odd years to turn things around,
Or a catalyst of reactions will basically cause the world to drown,
Because of lack of ice and rising temperatures and all that.
I don’t think we can change.
It’s like staring into the sun. Watching something you showed up too late to stop. We just watch the time run out.
I’m floating above all the thoughts I’ve had today,
They’re all reflections of my environment. They’re not me. None of this feels like me. But I’m floating or sinking, it doesn’t matter.
Not sure how to stand or if I can stand this.
How do you stand this?
I ask my mom how she stands this every day and lives this;
How she bears the truths because this hurts,
I don’t want people to hurt.
It all seems cruel and fixable but far away and I’m so sorry.
I’m sorry my existence means you’re dead and in pain and I make your children work for nothing.
All of this for nothing.
I need Nike shoes and an iPhone McDonald’s fries Starbucks coffee H&M death certificate and an Adidas coffin Tylenol tragedy and a Paxil Pixar movie in big lights oh how happy oh how bright. We love each other if you’re white. White. White washed. Poshed. How dare you ******* talk to me? Upper Echelon of society.
Tasteless, a tragedy. You’re killing me. I’m dead inside. We’re all dead inside. Dead inside. Dead inside.
Sometimes I wish I could disappear
They never guessed this would rip me in half,
This is ripping me in half.
But it’s fine,
It’s just fine.
I can’t get high anymore,
I can’t get high because I need more and more and more and it’s never enough. It’s never enough to forget.
It’s never enough to forgive.
I can taste the metal of a barrel.
I can taste the metal in my dreams—
this is all the life I’ll ever need.
He doesn’t talk much about where he came from;
maybe he’s scared the truth of the place would speak more than he could.
Maybe it’s hard to explain the hunger or the times the power goes off or the constant fear to someone who’s flown above it all.
Though we don’t talk about the sand or the fruit on the trees or what the rain feels like at the end of the day either.
We’ve lived moment to moment and learned what we know of each other through the present.
Somehow I yearn for this place I’ve gathered pieces of. The place I cannot know but that grew inside me.
What if I jumped from a bridge.
In the middle of the night in this cold stale November air.
To heights skin and organs are no match.
A mess. Sadness. Comes. In. Threes.
I’m one of three tragedies.
My mother’s tragedy.
I’m sorry mom.
I didn’t try.
I’m a failure but you always knew that.
We expect tragedies in threes.
In series. In series. In series.
I’m not myself,
I see things inside out.
Do I think too much because I think about think about thinking about thinking about thinking...
Why do I lie awake at night?
If I’ve done nothing wrong then what haunts my conscience?
All the pain in the world is like an ocean,
A deep tidal wave that's always been in motion.
It started somewhere long ago,
no one claims responsibility or seems to know,
and all the water feels the pull of the wave.
When will we crash and cave in on each other? Maybe it's already too late to save.