01:52 am
have you ever asked yourself like why you so lonely?*

01:53 am
or empty?

that maybe you give too much of your essence to people and never leave any of you for yourself

01:55 am
i know i do

02:05 am
and like that's maybe why i get so attached to humans

because in them,
i find myself

02:07 am
i need to change, because things shouldn't be this way

02:10 am
but it's hard sometimes you know, when most days you don't leave the house because you feel unworthy of the space you take up

02:16 am
so you'd much rather disintegrate into soil because you've become all too familiar with people stepping over you and admiring the outcome of your beauty but never the roots of your pain

02:19 am
i spend so much effort watering people in order for them to grow and hardly get enough sun shine to feed my own soul

02:25 am*
because i don't know how to do anything else but care for everyone but myself

when last have i had a 3am kind of conversation,
with my star like emotions scattered all over the darkest parts of me,
mimicking the sky,
my moon like persona that always returns back to hiding me away.  
when last have i felt safe enough to let somebody in,
to not have visions of my vulnerability being tied to the bed after he locks the door behind him,
his voice like some sort of broken record that keeps on repeating that
"it's gonna be okay."
when last have i had a shoulder to cry on that isn't my own,
for my neck to stop worrying that the tear filled sea on either side won't get waves big enough to drown me.  
when last okay,
when last has it felt good to be me.

I SLAMMED THE DOOR SO HARD, THAT IT COULD HAVE FALLEN OFF IT'S HINGES,
THE SAME WAY I COLLAPSE TO MY KNEES SOMETIMES.
I SLAMMED IT WITH THE KIND OF FORCE THAT IT  TAKES ME TO LOVE, AND GOD KNOWS I LOVE WITH THE POWER OF EARTHQUAKES AND TORNADOS COMBINED.

Sonder through suburbia,
Distort reflections in the glass,
Slow the frame rate on the film,
Saccadic masking, bridge the gap.

Focus closer, narrowing aperture
See cerulean wondering past
Heart murmur, tempo change
The choreographer sits back.

Rigor mortis sit's deep behind
A clock-tower's frozen hands
Obscured, in the clouds above
A backdrop of smog and ash.

First printed, never copied
Light swamps the negative.
Lucidity - luxury of the present
Rarely present in the past.

As the hanging shadow lifts
The clock-face remains steadfast
Witness hands skip a beat,
Background characters advance.

Step after step, strangers move along;
Each vivid moment lost in sepia
But she, the blue eyed girl glances
Back at you, frozen, stiff, aghast.

I had created a dream
Where everything was what it seemed
No underlying lies
No forming covert ties
I had created a dream
In which there was no time for sorrow or grief
Where a heart could not be stolen
Without any care
As if by a thief
I had created a dream
Where people were not bridges
Used to get to the other side
Where I knew
If something said
Was false or true
I had created a dream

I see birds sitting on chimneys
And telephone wires
And rooftops.
I wonder what it feels like to be up so high
Without an ounce of fear.
To be so close to everything beautiful that gets caught in the air
The stars and the moon and the sun
And have complete freedom
Peace
I want to borrow the raven's wings
The scarlet feathers from the robin
To disguise myself
To escape to the sky for a weekend.

I have always been terrified of birds
But I'm beginning to wonder why exactly that is.
Envy is the only conclusion I can come to.
I will never be that close to the stars until I become one
I will never fly through the clouds without being encased in a metal casket.

I want to fly with the birds.
They will lend me their feathers so I don't get cold
They will sit in their nests
Watching me
Like proud parents.
They will hope I never return.

The loss of their feathers is temporary
They will grow back, and when they do
Maybe the birds will think of me
Maybe they will continue to donate their wings to the landlocked girls with wanderlust.