4am isn't too early
for uber or grab
to take my money

24/7 Mcdonald's
an extra cup of coffee
sunlight creeps in

3 teens next to me jam
to South Border and
small talk

1season
too many reasons
pass by

I have no expectation for things to last.
Everything has a clock, an expiration date, an erosive half-life.
After taking stock of my current relationships,
I realized I'm hesitant to invest in people
because I don't think people will stick around.

People change.
People leave.

And for people who don't deal with change well
like me
that means
a sort of implosion.
Humans constantly assume different roles.

Mothers become grandmothers,
friends become strangers,
brothers become fathers.

With that, even family will leave you behind--
out of sight out of mind.
And I haven't been thought of in such a long time
I begin to think
no one will ever see me again.
Now I'm just wishing I can be useful in some way, so I can stop feeling like the world is tired of carrying me.

I sit,
watching people pass by as their world changes,
and mine falls apart.

i want you to pick my body up and hold it together with every ounce of sadness you have left in you so we can crucify ourselves at the cross of depression with hearts open to loving like never before

twisted thoughts form around how much you realise you care about someone during evenings that buzz louder and louder with each pressing word that passes your brain and i wonder how long it'll take until i scream in my sleep trying to call a name long forgotten by the walls of my room

and i'm running and running and running in circles to try to catch up with my own afflictions but they keep beating me to the finish line until i'm left so weak i collapse under the weight of every criticism i string out to define my cells to shoot my thoughts to shake my confidence and break my passion

you were a golden girl until you let yourself dull down; nobody likes gold if it can't sparkle.

I don't know how to accept compliments
Like I don't know how to load a gun
And I'm afraid to learn because
I've never wanted to **** myself for trying to learn something new

Do not recoil when I forget how to hug
Because I've never wanted to escape something so badly that felt like home

Nomads can only remember what home means
When they taste it in freshly baked bread
And when you don't have to knock to come in
I have been knocking on vacant doors
And my knuckles didn't offer their blood in exchange for your absence

I do not know how to ask for help
Like I know how to load of gun
Because I guess a little practice is all it takes
And I could only focus on one thing at a time

Poetry is like fishing:
You cast your thoughts,
Onto your inspiration,
And hopefully something,
Will bite.