Care, without a world in the air

And one leg propped up upon the other

      As if the universe didn't exist

      As if the words and thoughts were as one, unminced

And so I am introduced to you once again

My future friend

      Hello

Fantasy is a Dream but Reality is not what it seems.

i never seem
to get enough
rest
these days
always waking
up
tired

to start coffee,
****,
fix my hair,
sit in bed drinking
the coffee
plumbing the depths
for
ways to get through
another day,
****,

try to remember ways
that worked
before

maybe a quote
or a character
a poem
a song
a memory
an illusion
could even be
another person

but time draws
ever nearer
ever closer
until
at last
that silent cheetah
is sprinting

before i know it
i'm sitting
in my car
turning the key
with whatever
semblance and steel
i finally gathered

-a real live
cubist representation
of my
self
driving to work
at 3:49 a.m.

passing  
three black cats
in
the street
that watch me
carefully,
the glowing night
white-hot
in their eyes


satellites of some
indifferent future

hidden with
the devils
on the horizon

...

Because my poems are always depressed,
I tried to write something happy for you.
~
Depression returns.
~
Half of our converstations
Is laughter.
~
And I was figuring out,
If your laughter was a mask too sometimes.
~
And I broke through,
But it wasn't
~
Hapiness stayed.
~
I helped you write your first poem,
The motto:
~
Never give up,
Don't be sad.
~
And I wonder
If you'll ever
~
See trough the eye,
of a true poet.
~
And if you'll never,
Stay sad.
~
And if you'll ever,
Keep going

...

If you're looking for a reason not to **** yourself tonight, this can be it.

Sometimes, we feel as if nothing matters.
We all do.
So i made a list of a few of my own reasons,
13 Reasons Why
I'm still alive.
And hopefully you'll change your mind.
Those moments you feel happy, and nothing but lucky.
And you wish nothing will ever change.
I will try my best.

Reason 12, You.
I'm looking for ideas, can't be inspired by the world around me. My head is full of unwritten, unspeakable poetry only when I see you. My muse, almost. And I try to feel- and feel- and feel. But the scenery changes. You left. Take the blame for other's actions, and your own. And every time you leave my mind, somehow always inspire me. Wether it's your tears from reading my suicide note, or your laugh from, well, anything. And the "you" is so many people, so many ideas. Past, Present, Future. "You" is a broad understanding. It's 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, or even more people. All the same, Yet so different. After such a short time, everyone leaves, and returns to my mind again. In so many different ways. The slightest is necessary. A tap on the back, and a wink. A smile, or a few tears. A hug, or guilt. My own depression. It's true what you said a few minutes ago. All my poems are tagged with depression. I'm just too sad for you, I thought. But i said; because uhh well I wrote those things a long time ago. I hear a lot; "I'm worried about you" aswell. I asked if it was a good or a bad sign that i did, and you said: A BAD SIGN OF COURSE! I laughed. Because maybe this isn't understandable, but enjoyable. Maybe the feeling, and the realisation people cared was the reason. Because it almost makes me feel happy seeing people cry. I'm a psychopath. And sometimes I see myself. And I Can't explain in words how much I hate myself for doing this to you, but mostly, for not being sorry. Don't be like me.

seems it has been quite
quite longer than
eleven weeks
since we last spoke
i'm sure that on this early morning
you're only sleeping
but i'd like to share
some basic ideas
Perhaps you
can't forget it all
in fact

it might be the sad reality
that all you can do
is reflect on
a good old memory

the simple memories that you hold
and seem to also run through my head
even if i refuse, the inevitable rises
that i must accept those
precious hours
we had
and it seems that
i like to reference songs in
all of my reminiscence
through this incoherent series
of run-on sentences

to answer your questions
do you want answers?
at least now
after all this time
quite longer than
eleven weeks
since we last spoke?
or may i leave your questions
as mysteries of your poem?
the answers
can only be guessed

guessed
emotionally
or logically
we do know
what happened this year
and it seems that
i took you
as far as you could go
hugs are nice
so embrace the hugs
selfishness is a construct

you can't be afraid
to care for yourself
and explore
your desires
i'm sorry i didn't stay
why would an affair
be needed
to visit you?
well, i sure hope
my lacking presence
doesn't wrack your brain anymore

I sit in the back seat
Dealing, with such a
Gut wrenching feeling.

My mom is in another car,
On the way to the airport.
A game of sorts,
You gotta play with the law.
**** up, and you could lose it all.

You could say "**** 12"
But you don't really feel that hate
Until you or your friends are in cuffs.
You could say you miss someone,
But you don't feel that pain
Until you won't ever see them again.

I'm lucky I know,
I'll see you again.
We're lucky, we know
We could be in permanent cuffs.
Till then, we hold our breath
And pray he won't be.