they've told me multiple times
that you're nothing more than
side effects of my speculations,
but even if so, i'll lie.

though my hours are counted
ticking until I count again
you know better than anyone
that it's nothing more than true.

and if said not, I dare you to watch,
not see, to observe, not look,
at a starry sky with starry eyes
then look into mine and say it's finite.

or maybe it comes down to the fact
that everything's become far too cold,
and who are you to argue as I watch
as it chills me to the core?

now, finity has become my worst nightmare,
even outside my own boundaries,
for there's so much I can live
until I have to be alive.

and maybe, just maybe,
i'll be fine for now.
just make sure to fade away soon enough,
after all, I am nothing but finite.

And now, I guess I'm glad that I never felt
The way your ulna and radius would press
against the discs in my spine as your humerus
held me to you, the way I would lean my skull
on your clavicle and rest my phalanges on your
scapula and be able to feel the life inside of your ribs,
the way your costal cartilage was never mine to hold
and the way mine always was too bruised to touch,
because then I'd be certain that the cartilage between
your bones would turn them into nothing but ropes,
tying me down to you as they wrapped around my
neck and choked me in my own illusions.
And I'm done playing hangman.

Because then, I'd be nothing but another skeleton
in my closet full of dreams and hopes.
And darling,
I won't do that to myself again.

**Never again.

One, two, three, four, one, two three-
One, two, three, four, we all start.
Now let your feet slam on misery
and your being vibrate from the cheers.

Now go, love, succumb to the animal
begging to move and shake of the inertia
seeping through your head until the
momentum makes you drop dead.

And let yourself be swayed by the wind
and the thunder coming from worn, thinned
skin produced by a pair of calloused hands
that each time beat harder so their palms go raw.

And close your eyes and nod along to
any pointless noise you could find until all
traces of hyperthymesiac sorrows flow away
from your fingertips for the ground to hold onto for you.

And during this time you're allowed to be pretentious,
allowed to believe that you are more than this,
allowed to believe that you have the control to let go,
allowed to believe that you are anything more than this beat.

Oh, and love, before the brief minutes of silence end,
remember to spin around until you lose it all and drop
as the last moments seep through, just to make sure
your life doesn't end up doing the same.

One, two, three, four, one, two, three-
One, two, three, four, we all stop.
And the song ends, and we all become nothing
as we pick ourselves up for the floor.

Paint has spilt all over
My worn clothes and clammy hands
Colors becoming an array of
Makeshift beauty as I arch my wrist.

And I sketch and I draw
And I write this to life, repainting
The precious and  capture
Some of it for myself.

And the story of year-old blood and day-old
Paint have all dried under my nails and my hands,
Consequence of a failing try to redefine and
Capture the smallest details of the daunting world I live in.

But this much seems pointless,
Because every time I look at the world
And at the people surrounding the
Enigmatic soul in you,

I realize that such that such beauty
Of mind and matter is too great
For me to recreate a small part of it
Only armed with ink, paint and a pencil.

And maybe, it was a twist of sweet fate,
But as I wash all the paint and ink off
And find you right in front of me, I'm reminded
Of how I've failed to capture all the brilliance.

So instead, as I watch as the last of the paint
Waters into nothing but *******, I commit
You to memory and hope that you don't fade away
The same way graphite and ink does.

Illuminated by the soft glow
Of glorified plastic, I sit still
On the duvet, my body feeling
Completely and utterly weightless.

And my back is slumped against
The cement wall, bruised spine aching
As it begs for me to lie. Ah,
Completely and utterly weightless.

Hearing sounds and beats I can't listen,
Inhaling chopped air waiting for dawn to arise,
exhaling words before they clog my mind.
Completely and utterly weightless.

And sleep beckons me and asks me why,
and I start nodding along to it as the moment end
and my bruised spine aches. Ah, but I was
Completely and utterly weightless.

But the buzz won't let me sleep, as always,
so I keep listening to riffs I can't hear
and plead to my mind to rest instead;
Completely and utterly weightless.

At least, I used to be.
But the bags under my eyes
decided that it was time to weigh
down on my skin again.

Completely and utterly weightless;
I slip into a restless slumber
as the lead in my bones makes
itself more evident that before.

So I let my words become weightless instead.
But they refuse to leave, so instead they
seep in my muscles, clanking around skin and bones
And waiting to be bled, **** it, I can't sleep.

Surprise, surprise.

Chipped answers
With a clipped smile
Cheap excuses
With a **** composure.

Oh, anger isn’t what everyone makes it out to be.

Gagged words
With a glad hiss,
Drab hair with
Dragging eyelids.

Oh, uncertainty isn’t what everyone e makes it out to be.

Falling bodies
With failing ankles,
Fading purpose with
Flailing hands.

Oh, giving up isn’t what everyone makes it out to be.

Gripping papers
With grasping fingers,
Fastening the edges of a
Long-lasting chamber.

Oh, anxiety isn’t what everyone makes it out to be.

Breathing hearts with
Beating lungs,
Being human with a
Bleeding tongue.

Oh, life isn't what everyone makes it out to be.

She lays still at three a.m.,
Her breath matching the
Silent beat of a world
Waiting for her outside.
[Waiting to see her fail.]

And she stares all night
At the painted ceilings
Creating figures and faces
With the cracks in their structure.
[Just like her.]

And she wonders, if she were to paint
The walls with her colours and her
words, would they stop closing in on her
Or would they lock her up any faster?
[She hopes for the former.]

But she knows it's just more wishful
Thinking, so shuts shut her eyes
Tight and ignore the monsters
Looming over her as she sleeps.
[Or rather, tries to.]