denial keeps me sane
it smudges reality with a thin cloth
fills me with false hope
that maybe today will be different

in slow motion
i pass the same halls i do everyday
yet now they've been painted new
once with excitement and opportunity
now of distant emotion and expired joy

3:06 pm

this state of dejection is familiar,
yet stronger than before
i feel i've lost all sense of what is good,
and i wonder what goodness i have left in my life

-z

i have grown familiar with the feeling of hot tears rolling down my face, it seems this is where i always find myself
i woke up this morning eyes puffed, and when i washed my face i tasted the salty runoff from the night before

even sleep could not numb my pain, the scarce dozzy seconds between slumber and awareness i found comfort in feeling nothing, but all too soon my sorrow seeped in like a sickness

he said it was only temporary until he got better, 'be strong,' i tell myself 'for him', but my own selfish desires render me bedridden daring to dream a life without him

i never noticed how good i was at putting on a pretty face, his heavy words broke me in two, but i stayed together
the second he turned his back i crumbled in a way i have never before
it is now 26 hours later and at any given time i could spiral into a pool of anguish and heartache

this state of dejection is familiar, yet stronger than before, i feel i've lost all sense of what is good, and i wonder what goodness i have left in my life

my oldest friend
seeps through the cracks of the window
he begs me to take him back
says he will comfort me once more
just like when we were young
he tells me he is all i need

when i resist his requests
he follows me wherever i go
continuously tells me that he is my elixir
when the crowds fade out and it is just us
he asks if i feel alone
says he could help

in physical form
he reflects my worries and doubts
my regret and sadness
i used to think he was all that could help
the familiarity somewhat soothing

he is the early morning rain
a frosted air filling my lungs

he is in these words
hidden within the letters

he is a canvas of colours
each stroke of my brush

he is the strum of my guitar
the way i talk
the colour of my eyes
the skip in my step

he is the pulse of my heart
and i wouldn't want it any other way

he had affixed green eyes
glazed but lively
i saw something in them
soulful
perhaps bruised

scared to touch
harmonic veins ran through his frame
he radiated blind beauty with every step

he was the animate version of all my hopes and dreams
and here he was
with me
how heartbreakingly beautiful
i could never be what he deserves