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Jo Hummel Sep 2014
If I understood your mind
I'd still think I was a lie.
I've no reason to think of you,
but, my brain is curious,
so, here you are.

Come walking with me down this dreary boulevard
and tell me about the shadow you cast
(I'd love to get to know him).
I'll hold your hand and play with your fingers
and we can pretend we aren't thinking similar thoughts
by trapping one another in predetermined memories.
Jo Hummel Sep 2014
You told me you could tell the sky, "Goodnight,"
and the earth would whisper, "Good morning."
Home always felt like your coffee breath stirring the hair in my face
and your hand gripping mine when I strayed too far.

You asked me what I thought of God and I said she was beautiful
and you placed a kiss on my cheek, pressed your scarred palms to mine, and told me,
"Yes she is."

When I told you I was scared you told me that demons are everywhere but angels are immune.
I felt better.

Winter was never cold with you around.
It's 4am.
Answered phone calls remind me I'm not always too alone.
  Sep 2014 Jo Hummel
v V v
It's never quite right,
the way I feel upon waking.

It's never quite right,
at night when its time to sleep.

It’s a vicious cycle of dependence on
whatever the moment requires.

10 mg of this, 20 mg of that , 
  
my see-saw bloodstream
keeps me constantly in need
of something.

     It's like having Phantom Limb Syndrome,
      except you can't figure out
      which limb is missing.


          It's like driving a car on ice,
           constantly slipping and
           over correcting.


               It's like having PTSD,
                only the triggering incident
                hasn’t happened yet.


                    It's like mixing
                     red and blue paint,
                     in the end its always purple.



What’s left is a life of constant searching and
the frustrating inability to drive between the lines.

A life filled with debilitating fear and
an ever present sense of impending doom.

A lifetime sentence

in a land of purple fog nothingness.
Jo Hummel Sep 2014
Bury me in the ocean of my tears,
please-
or, at least drown me in it.
I've grown so dependent it's pathetic
and I'm walking circles in inquiries
pretending to figure out what to do next.
Your love, her approval, their eyes-
I don't think the events of my childhood are the reasons I'm on these ******* pills.

Here's to another night hoping there won't be another morning,
and to another tear-stained pillowcase.
Jo Hummel Sep 2014
The blinds are so heavy,
she's wondering if there's reason in any attempt to keep them open anymore.
It's easy to shut out the sun,
and even easier to regret it... right?

She gave up dreaming long ago-
the nightmares are more vivid now.
Jo Hummel Sep 2014
Fire is wicked
and my heart's set aflame-
over the water, no less,
it's an effortless game:

I win, you lose,
and we play again,
it's no matter of what we choose-
it's how we grow akin
to shadows, long, and days, so dreary
you'd think our wrongs were growing weary
(they aren't).

What a shame, this game
without an ounce of fame to your name;
but mine's a-shine, and I am fine,
and you still lie your head by mine.
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