I'm not depressed
I'm just sad
I'm not drowning
I'm falling so slowly
walls around me crumbling
I'm fine
I don't cry
I'm not questioning my reality
I will not scream
losing faith in me
hands shaking
retracing my steps
clouds walking west
most people never understand
my girlfriends don't understand
he won't understand

a bird
a tree
a cloud
a feeling

the moments of
reckless behavior
when no one
is watching me

I want to stay here
in the corner of my mind
it's always sunny
with slow breathing

In 565 days I'll be somewhere dead
I'll be in hotel room 31
It'll be 1:22
With a window so high
I'll almost believe I can fly
Not so far away
I can hear you talk
The promises you break
Burn away
I want to sleep away
dream a reality
I'll never see

i never really liked the color yellow
so protuberant
kinda theatrical
too blithe
but it just so happens to be your favorite
and that's exactly what i need

I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain—and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.

I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.

I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,

But not to call me back or say good-by;
And further still at an unearthly height
One luminary clock against the sky

Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.

The living come with grassy tread
To read the gravestones on the hill;
The graveyard draws the living still,
But never anymore the dead.
The verses in it say and say:
“The ones who living come today
To read the stones and go away
Tomorrow dead will come to stay.”
So sure of death the marbles rhyme,
Yet can’t help marking all the time
How no one dead will seem to come.
What is it men are shrinking from?
It would be easy to be clever
And tell the stones: Men hate to die
And have stopped dying now forever.
I think they would believe the lie.