Sometimes i can’t cope with the mundane
The abrupt end of it all
Everything stops making sense
I watch my own body from above
So i surround myself with people
Very Passionate People

There are those so drowned in anguish
So doused in dread
They take up the room with it,
Like something between
vinegar and gasoline
There’s weight to the air, like iron
The ache pouring from their skin
Like spores
Taking root in my cracks and sockets
And in my soul
And in my memories
Embedding their nightmares
In between every floorboard
And every time it happens,
I feel whole again

There are people i see
Who’s smiles scream like the sun itself
Their skin smells like honeysuckle
They are always warm
Every breath, every word
Feels like new life
Like dandelion wishes, and soft grass
Kisses on picnic blankets,
Driving too fast
They burn white hot, yellow,
Setting fire to my judgement,
And every time it happens,
I feel whole again

There are those who like lanterns
Burning on a dark road in a new moon
And you’re a moth to their flame
But every word they speak
Whips hard enough to split the skin
Every time your eyes lock
Your body aches, like lead poisoning
Their eyelashes make your bones brittle
You’re too enthralled to tell them that
Yes, you’re terrified
But they make you writhe like a snake
They grip you just as hard
And you like it
They stain your bedsheets
Sickly, rotted green
And every time it happens
I feel whole again

And there are others
Blank canvases
Locust shells
Hallowed out trees,
Ruined by pestilence
Forgotten, left to fester
Left behind generations ago
It’s a miracle there is breath in those bodies
It’s a wonder they have souls anymore
Do they know that they’re ghostly
That they’re in purgatory?
I don’t think they have the will
Still, their motions are effortless
A cotton dress on a downhill stream
Something beautiful, taken so far away
Sunken to the depths, despite all things
And every time it happens,
I feel whole again

The trouble is
In knowing this
Encyclopedia of personages
The yellowpages of my life
I can’t stay vacant this long
There will be color on these walls again
Photos in these halls again
And i cannot choose them
All the people i meet and see
Leave their fingerprints on all the mirrors
Staining what i see when i look for myself
And it seems that
After too long
I’ll remain the marble statue
With a pretty new visage,
A beautiful, distracting mask
Made entirely of
Everyone I’ve ever met