It's just like life
to send us here --
a world away
from what we know.
We feel our eyes
absorb the light,
but nothing makes
a solid shape.
The words we say
inside our heads
are distant sounds
we want to hear.

When people take
a look at us,
I wonder if
they see us where
we truly are:

beside ourselves.

its been hours and days
and weeks and
months
and people are
watching me nightly
with my music and
bottles, my
words and my makeup
and dried blood
so very unsightly
i'm sitting and musing
and writing
so
slowly
and
watching
the minutes
go bye
but time is a place
and each second i ****
is another small
void in the sky

All I have to do is, "Hello, how's it going?"
and the scene is set.
Some swell of social masochism
stuck inside my head at best.
That step one is a doozie,
but not taking it means staying in.
So going out's the other side, ****
seems I've lost my coin again.
Alright then.
Here, let's try this then.
"Ain't seen you in a while, man."
-Been busy. Girlfriend, house, and job.
-No time for getting out a lot.
-I'm moving next month, see ya round.
Oh. Now I see.
Seems everybody else but me
is doing fine, is growing, building, going,
getting paid and getting laid
and all I said
was, "Hello, how's it going?"
Now I know. I'm either made
of stoic parts expressing little
keeping down these feelings brittle
cracked, sharp spines in blood seek sunlight
or to contrast this, they just might
be the other side of same.
I mean, they could be saying things
convincing arguments of health where
they don't have to face themselves.
Regardless. I'm unguarded
and this talk was quite unhelpful.
I'mma go now. Think I see a friend who just came in.
I'll try again.
"Hello, how's it going?"
And I'm answering this time,  I'm fine.
I'll take a double short
with *** and coke and wedge of lime.