I sit parallel
from a blank canvas
for the next
*lustrum.

It's been a while since we've last talked
and I've built up a lot inside this body
you should know these feelings quite well
but what you may soon come to find out
is that a piece of my heart isn't all that mad

I know that
You're a total *****
I hate your ******* guts
And never again will I want you

But I know better than to consume and ponder myself
with thoughts that a less wiser man would think
it's not the end of the world frankly
and I have better things to do
than to sit around all day
and drive myself mad
losing all this sleep
trying hard
to forgive
you.

I focus on your eyes
those two deep blue oceans
and wonder why you wave over me
yes, it's true that I'm imperfect
but are you any better?

You can't feed me servings of silence
like an unsolved piece of a puzzle
please move your stiff ghost occasionally
let it consume something other than
your tortured, self-consumed mind.

These walls keep you from leaving my sight,
yet why are they the closest from tumbling down?

Only prayers keep me sane anymore.
                             ...
Resting my eyes as you call out my name
you whisper it to the shadows within the clouds
but only because it's forever the name of a stranger.

I have a book on my bed
that might never be read,
and the last of my thoughts
are anything except dead.

Does anyone wish for immortality
in the days of adulthood?
Is maturity a slow killing process
or just a way of inviting life inside?

It's nights like these
where I don't see
the point in anything.
For crying out loud, is there a point
other than the constant reminder
that life begins when you do?

I had post-its all over my desktop
that each reminded me of important things
but never could I put down your name
because let's face it, you could never be mine.

I'm a little selfish
when I think about you
with anyone else
and I have to watch my mouth
when you are mentioned by friends
oh, they don't know what I have
on my ***** mind.

A wise man once said
All that we see or seem
is but a dream within a dream
which made me feel as though
love is truly ******* impossible
when it comes to you and I.

I want to crash my soul into a million pieces
like the way my heart breaks when I see you
what's the point of this useless *******
if all I do is see us on a stage of camaraderie
where everyone is oblivious to my feelings
and you won't bother with looking my way?

Oh God, please look my way!
Come here!
Hold me! Kiss me! Love me!
Lover, will you give me a sign?
It's like I have to dream
every time I want to caress your body
or say what I feel
without sounding disgusted with myself.

I'm so utterly locked in these closets
looking for answers that come close
but never quite finding them.

Feels like I’m in another universe
Asking questions cause I’m feeling cursed
There’s not a day when my throat doesn't burn
Why does this ache always seem to return?

Talk to myself away from watchful eyes
Ego black and blue as I fear demise
I’m not armed to the teeth anymore
Doesn't mean I’m one to ignore.

I’ll spit blood in this bitter flight
unlike that summer when my hopes ran high
So when you ask if I’m doing okay
It shouldn't shock you when I say…

I’m weary, I’m ill
and I blame it on the art of getting by
I look in the mirror and I wonder if I’ll ever be satisfied.

I wouldn't go as far as saying that I’m traumatized
but truth be told,
I’m not alright.

(Originally by Sky Ferreira)

The clock is ticking
And you still have nothing to say
It won't matter if your life is wasted
Because you have time in bed to lay

These winds were your guide
You hoped that they would help you lift
But they wouldn't and you knew it
They just told you Go inside and drift

Don't rest your eyes! they said
Because they wanted you to try
But all you could do was give up
And sit down to cry

They don't see you cry.