i am in a mood where i want to feel alive
because it's hard to feel a point
when i am staring at the bottom of a top bunk by myself in a basement
(i know nothing about me anymore)
(this boy i can't stop thinking about is trying to figure me out
and i'm afraid it's too easy
because i am nothing)

i guess it feels like i'm staring at a blank wall
and someone with a lab coat and clipboard is standing behind me,
saying, "you have to cover it completely"
and i just sit on the floor and look at it,
my hands empty
my thoughts racing
"cover it with what?" I ask
"I have nothing.
I have no materials to use"
But she just shrugs and writes something down
and I start to sweat and panic
because what is she writing
and what am i supposed to do
How can I cover a ******* blank wall
when my HANDS ARE ******* EMPTY?

isnt it strange how many lives we enter
then leave, just to pretend it never happened.
i miss so many people in different ways,
and i miss who i was with them
how different and how much growing i didnt know was coming.
isnt it cool to see the timeline
it scares me, too
i thought letting go would be a release
i thought people lived, learned, then moved on in a way that allowed them to not miss their old lives
because the new ones are better, older, more mature
but what if growing up is just collecting dusty memories
i guess it is all about remembering the good things
i just dont know who i am - only what i've been

don't look at anything i write
wait until it comes out of my mouth
because everything you've ever whispered in my ear
has been ringing and ringing
and i've never heard such a nice sound

i wish i could give that to you in return
i wish i would say things first
because god, i mean these words

I'm not really into tradition
Except the tradition people like us have of
breaking tradition.
My eyes aren't quite adjusted yet
but god it's easy to focus in on you

been thinking more about cigarettes
cigars, really (false sense of health)
gotta have something to do with my hands
but its an interesting thought, pointless.
sticky-scented, rearranged, row of wicks
bags pulling my top lids
reaching out my hands to the chipped paint on the ceiling
fingers ache
bellies too
5am ready for bed but aching aching aching

i think i am afraid of missing someone forever.
i seem to think that once i say goodbye, even on good terms,
i will never see any of them again
and that terrifies me
because i don't want to make new friends
if that means i have to lose my old ones.
(i'm afraid to say goodbye to you, ever
because i am ******* terrified i'll always miss you)

man, i can spend my entire day
hoping to see you

i've written some great things
about feelings i don't remember
and people i no longer talk to or think about
and i am afraid
one day
all i'll have of you
are the poems i wrote
(but don't remember writing)

You tell me what you think
I'll stare back, maybe nod my head
I am older and still not wiser,
I crave less and less but want more
Most things seem unattainable - is this where it starts?
Is this growing up and losing hope? Has reality finally set in and I've realized that in order for a dream to come true, you have to first fully realize what that dream actually is, and it has to be so specific that you can taste it before it's even accomplished?
At 25, I'm unsure I ever really knew how to dream, then
All of my desires are so vague, maybe I've convinced myself they're more likely to happen that way

usually unsure how you feel about me
that's okay

everyone gets sad
is sad
will be sad
(I wish you never felt sad)
(I wish you could hand me your sadness and I would walk beside you carrying it on my shoulders and all you'd have to do is smile and hold my hand)

You know you're the greatest, though
Every day is a pleasure

an apple a day
maybe one, here or there
an apple a week
a cigarette a day
(well, that's what the movies say)

comfort in his limbs, or simply in his presence.
i just crave slowly inching my fingers up his arm
wiping his shoulder with my thumb
resting my heavy head on the pillow and my forehead against his bicep
why can't i take care of myself when i am alone
why am i treating my life as if it is on pause

we feed off each other
don't pretend you're original,
everyone is a part of the people of their past
(i can see it, it's easy)

and i know you were drunk
but the tragedy of last night is that i believed every sweet word you said

pinching vertebrae,
trying to climb my spine
pick through the back of my neck and reach into my brain
fix something in there

not sure about much
not sure about anything, really
not sure of the last time you weren't floating around my head
wish I thought of myself as much as I think of you

****

remember to occasionally remember me

i gave away my last pack of cigarettes but i should have saved them for emergency nights when the vape just isn't cutting it and feeling 23 sinks in with baggy eyes.
my stomach is so full, i have a headache and this incessant whining makes me want to scratch at my skin until it peels off.
earlier this evening (back when it was evening and not 4am) there was a spider crawling in my bed
and i yelled for my brother, who luckily liked me enough in the moment to come in and pick up the daddy long leg and take it outside.
I wonder, at 23, how i would live by myself.
i wonder if i'll feel closer to my parents once i move out
i wonder if i'll ever feel satisfied with my existence - but isn't that a bad thing? doesn't that mean giving up? is success a failure in this way..
when does the achievement of a dream leave you dreamless

Sink into the middle of the mattress
Slight buzz of the air conditioning still on
I miss everything so much
Every experience I've had, every person I've known
Maybe I'm too soft for this world, for the human condition
One day I might afford therapy instead of ******* hellopoetry
But thank you all for watching me grow up.
..if you're still alive over there, on the other side of this one sided 4am recurring chaotic conversation I've been having for years

staying up late to feel my teeth crumble under the sugar in this wine
watching scary things on the television wondering why in the dark, I think the shadows might be out to get me.
I dont know what I think they are or why they scare me. Do they even scare me?
Left unfinished, playing in the background, the scary tv shows become my night light so i dont have to think about the shadows in the dark

is there something to be said about this?
letting it out, but only quietly
only in secret
speaking into the void so no one hears me thinking
i think it'd be embarrassing, having everyone see you mutter words, you chose those words, you structured them that way, and you want the world to listen to them, lacking composure?
i think it'd be embarrassing.
But instead i prefer vague public interpretation, you tell me what you think i'm thinking, does this arm movement tell you what i am craving, does this ****** shaking show you that i am not content, does me on stage twirling around for a paying audience make this crystal clear?
I'd never tell you what i was thinking, but here's a little summary, take it how you want and judge me for it.

I'm 24 but haven't thought much about it yet.
Still poor and unsure.
Sometimes bored and unmotivated.
Sometimes inspired, consuming media and art and thinking, wow, how do humans really create this? I feel like I could create something good someday...but will I ever have the money, will I ever dedicate the time needed to fulfill the potential that I feel I have?
If not, hopefully i have fun regardless...is that more important? Is that more successful?
Anyway.
I'm 24 and disconnected.

Red tinted teeth
Stained nicotine
I am so comfortable alone, but only after I've checked each closet for monsters