I remember being young and thinking I was alone in the universe.
I remember being old and touching your chest and feeling your heartbeat
and knowing that I was just a dumb kid once upon a time.
I remember this chaotic cycle of desire and apathy
and how stars used to form from the heat between us.
I remember crying out in the night and getting a call back
and hearing a prayer whispered to the dark for protection over the light.
I remember me.
I remember strangers and curfews and hushed toxins and passion.
I remember youth and innocence and a grip so tight it knocked the wind out of me and pushed the word love past my lips.
I remember you.

Despair, despair, despair.
This world's without a care.

Nah, I won't do some dumb rhyme,
I'm just here to get my thoughts out.
I've got to worry about money, love, health...
It isn't enough just making it out of bed today.
I've got all these dreams, passions, ideals,
and no way to actually reach them.
Sure, it'd be fun to live apart from everyone.
Sure, I wouldn't mind falling in love.
Sure, everyone wants a job.

If only self-confidence and physical and mental capabilities were achievable
and anxiety wasn't my best friend.

She hurt me and you didn't say a word.
I suppose nobody really cares, at this point.

I tore a hole in my chest and realized
I never even had a heart, anyway.

In the end, I have learned one thing:
Do not give your soul to a single (non)living being,
or,
do not expect to survive when that being is gone.
I warped my mind into believing that you (and I) were forever
and I am acknowledging that there is no such thing as a soul mate,
just a disappointment.

**** you and your conscious actions,
eliciting dreary moans from an already enervated alias.
you, who once exhilarated me,
now the cause of my exasperation,
will one day be the most glorious cause
of my most hideous downfall.
can i name your shortcomings, at least?
one, you take too long to make me cry.
two, no one ever told you to be so ******* quintessential.
three, can i hold your hand? no, it is too faultless on its own, i shant sabotage your look.
four, your facade is growing tired. make a new one. i like the expressions that dance on your face.
five, you knit your brows in a way that resembles a calf.
i cannot express more than five-

oh, hell, were those even flaws...?
**** you and your olive flesh
(so smooth, as if ivory)
and your cocoa eyes
and your coffee-stained teeth
and the way you praise God
as if you actually know Her