i don't believe in anything fully
and i don't believe in nothing fully

how does one define themself?
no set ideals, no morals, no concrete idea of what the hell i'm doing.

making a decision is terrifying when you don't know which side you prefer.

sometimes i don't eat or sleep because i don't recognise the feelings as hunger or pain or tiredness. just white noise in the back of my mind.

i am a stranger to myself. these roads i travel are blurred and fractured.
giving myself an identity makes me feel like i have to be something.

and all i know how to be is nothing.

i don't want to die.
just not exist for a while.
sleeping but
the world forgets about you
for as long as you lay down.
a quiet body
in an empty room.

i am running from my problems
but i
run in
spirals.

she waits at the door
for him to come home.
it has been so long.
and yet
she keeps her post.

if she leaves for a second she might miss the flash of a uniform, a crooked grin, a letter home.
baby teeth knocked out like gravestones after a storm.

like the gravestone the telegram in her hand may imply.
she has not opened it.
she has not-
can not-
will not-
open it.

the telegram sits
and she sits
and the clock sits
(mockingly)

and her son sits.
the closest to his homeland he will ever get is
the flag blanketed over him.

and still

she waits at the door.

all we are:
lonely hearts
looking for anything
to bridge the gap.

oh, medusaesque
****** blade with a diamond hilt
clean cut house with padded walls
storm hidden in the cloudy valley.

red-laced bottle of pride
running fast as your legs can go to keep away the
terrors.

busy is a lifestyle to
fiercly avoid the memories.
you can keep them one step behind
as long as you don't ever stop.

sometimes i think you're eight out of nine lives away from dying on the front step.

but
this cat
always lands on its feet.

it may seem
overdone
to write about love

but once you have it
it is impossible
not to want to share.

love is a cookie sample
at a grocery store
unexpected and surprisingly delicious.

love is a street dog
fed better than its owner
scruffy and fearless and full of hope.

love is what you thought you lost
but like a lucky penny
tends to appear on its own.

slowly
surely
quickly

i am falling
but it is the most glorious fall
in my life

and when i hit the ground
the asphalt will taste just as sweet
as the descent.

it may be overdone to write about love
but i couldn't care less today.
you are worth all my words.

the sun will die
but not for a long time
not before our own infinities
collapse into the absurdity and
the unimportance of it
all.

the sun will die
but not before goodwill
closes its doors one last time.
so long ****** $1 books and
memories of old people couches
that smelled like **** and beer and your great-grandfather's
apartment.

yeah, the sun will die
but not before those
kids who used to pick on you
and that ******* on the train
who got kicked in the ***** for making lewd comments in the quiet car
become worm food for
more decent creatures.

the sun will ******* die
so be glad.
everything ends including
all us *******,
us heavy breathers and
old ladies and ex-cons and alcoholics and plain humans.

the sun will die
but we got other things to worry about
more relative than all the others
so we may as well
enjoy
the
wait.