My house is a silent house
But listen closely
And you'll hear the ever-turning scratch of the ceiling fan
The constant ticking of the grandfather clock
Passing cars and heavy wind vibrating the windows
Looking out, the trees are sighing
Dying
Every leaf panicking with each eager gust
What is nature seeing?
What does it hear?
Observing me as I observe it
My slow and steady silent sighs
My thumping heart's persistent slamming
Increasing with speed at passing thoughts
My gulping down of liquid memories
My bones creaking and aching with pangs of rejection
Overgrown nails scratching at the surface of my skin.
Digging to get rid of an unceasing itch.
Untouchable.
Are the trees digesting that which my body refuses?
My teeth pressing themselves into the plush pillows of my lips
Keeping blood where my face has otherwise drained itself.
Pale as the undead.
Walking mindlessly.
Heartlessly.
Silent footsteps radiate this house's skeleton.
Rattling bones.
Climbing the ribcage,
Pulling up through the spaces
Sit for awhile. Watch the crimson muscle pump
The sound of my wandering eyes looking around for salvation.
The creak in my neck as I turn my head from its position of elongated staring.
Staring at nothing. Nothing is left.
Shifting uncomfortably in a chair too hard
Oceans built up against the dams behind my eyes waiting to be released into canals down my cheeks and neck
Settling into t-shirt stains that wont wash out
No one is left.
My house is a silent house.
Feel my rivers flowing.
Hold fast to them if you can and drown me.
And I will fall clamorously to sleep.

What if it's a matter of faith
You have it and I
Do not.
Perhaps that is the line that you
Refuse to cross
It's a thick deep line
Drawn in the sands
You stay on the shore
Yell to me as I'm pulled out to sea
You think I drown here, in this body of fluid doubt
You're so sturdy, strong, safe upon the shore
Do I need saving?
I'm fine swimming on my own
Though you may see my treading water as
Drowning
I assure you, I'm not
It feels right here
Saturating myself in salty waters
While you sit and hold fast to flowing sands through your fingers
Worrying that I don't know what's out there
Thinking I'm a lost cause
A man of land,
I myself, merely a wave
I kiss the shore only to be pulled back out
Two worlds that collide at the line
I don't need the oxygen that you need to survive
There is no island,
No Oasis
This is all it can be
And so I'll meet you at the line
Begging you dip your toes
Hands
Splash your face
"No" you say
"But please" I beg.
"Don't go."
I promise there is sand at the bottom of the ocean,
Land isn't all there is
There is infinite sky
We can transcend this
Maybe
Sure we could try,
But what's the point?
There is no middle ground
There's a line neither of us will cross
This can't be it.
But it could be.
I can't survive in your world
Nor you in mine
It's a matter of faith
You have it and I
Do not.
It's that line in the sand
We
Refuse to cross.
But I want to.
Just to have you.
I'd sacrifice my life
But not myself
So yell to me from your precious sands
We'll remain like this
Longing like this
Until this dividing line
This insignificantly significant line,
Is washed away by my
Persistent waves
And you're anguished enough
To tread with me.

I want a book to fall into.
I want to be a part of someone else's torment
A head congested with negativity and a distracting certainty of that which I cannot know for sure
Is in itself a truth
I want to tumble into pages
Fall between the words and hang on to a question by the tip of Q's tail
Conquer U, E, S, T, I, like monkey bars
And slide myself through "O" down the rabbit hole
Taking me far away to a land unlike this one
Where a distressed and questioning mind are put at ease
Where rabbits have pocket watches, cats grin, teacakes make you taller and smaller
And boys still want you
Forget the "N" because that would mean we've reached the end of an unanswerable question
One I'm tired of asking.