and so here we are in pieces

theres something about this starving that
feels so appetizing
something about this apathy
this undecided feeling, something about this week
that seems so far from real

maybe it's the way i love the word haunting
the daunting snarl of crumbling
papers on homework after homework but somehow you're still failing
it's filling your lungs over and over with air
breathing in until you've lost feeling just to notice
you are still drowning

maybe it's the trust you lack in others
maybe it's in your inability to speak to anyone lest they ask first, waiting until the very last second before you complete something you hadn't done,
stressing over a list you've yet to make
feeling like your heart might burst with every bite you take

maybe it's friends, (or a lack-thereof) maybe it's you seeing them with so much love, maybe you've just become jealous or perhaps not enough?
it might be double texting on airplane mode, wishing you could have anything to say though you never really cared much about them anyway and...
and maybe they just hate your guts

but
maybe it's just you

maybe it's simply "another thing you've found to worry about"
maybe it's "because you're always on that phone"
maybe you've been the one in the wrong all along

because hey, those who stress so much about themselves but be selfish right? must be jealous. must be hard thinking of yourself so much that you've become a walking time bomb with a ticker that can never turn off.
must **** knowing nothing and thinking you know it all.
anxiety must be rough...
but maybe you're just not anxious enough?

Spinnin and spinnin
Head breaks off into a branch
The ends of my fingertips thin out
Like
I am dense in the middle: thin around the edges: i can feel myself melting away.
He told me
Ill meet you there, but someone will hurt you when the time is most wrong
boywasiright

my heart broke and spilled on the highway
completely
out

i dont have any interactions with ppl that are not customer service interactions
im lonely.     feels like my brain is just logged off.
with an axe i start to work throoo my leg
my brains just off
1 million dollar winner
oh my brains just
off
   wont go on
i hit a pothole, pop my tire and
lose control
911 how are you today im amazing cuz I love life
im laying in the woods and i can't fall in love
with a  hammer i work at my head
til its far gone

bathroom floors always feel colder at night
and
i guess depression can never quite leave ones mind
and
i guess my dad can never get his head on right
but
its all in my head, these things
its all make believe
right?

weve been edging on a state all summer
and
perhaps i forgot the difference between happy and apathy
but
you know ******* everything don't you?
cuz i cant feel a ******* thing

i said i felt good or good enough
but i chased this demon and boxed it up
i spun stories all undone now, figured out pushing down is better than falling flat on the ground

bring me to church and even closer to tears again
show me the things i hadn't known i'd been trying to forget
and
hold my shaking arms as i fall apart in your hands and
ask me if i feel so tough
is that enough?
will it ever be ******* enough?

its a bitter thing these limbo summers are.

Conservatives cannot admit
that the White Nationalists were wrong
"But what about Black Lives Matter.
But what about the Alt-Left.
But what about what Fox News said.
But what about what our ******* cartoon of a president said."

Think for yourself.
You are feeling bad for Neo-Nazis.
They killed people.
They have a history of killing people.
They would **** everyone that isn't white.

This country has become disgusting.
A large portion is defending the actions of terrorists.
White Nationalists, ISIS--
They are, literally, the same.

You cannot be peaceful
when it comes to Nazis.
By sympathizing with them,
you are condoning them and creating more.
The only good **** is a dead ****.
Be a ******* person,
think for yourself,
recognize true evil
when you see it,
you brainwashed *****.

i met my fate as the orange grass met the sky
while i stood coddled up in sunlight, studious to some remnant of hope, either frequent or terminal

i sat cradled in tears screaming, speak or swallow me up
but perhaps the words came in sleep, or the bottom of my coffee cup
dripping into my sleep and bursting from buds
music to my ears or the flowers growing in love

i met my fate at the edge of the suburbs, when i disappeared into my head, barefoot and hungry, dashing into forests, so numb, holding my weight in heavy rising lungs.
i was fading, perpetual, my own burning constant.
haunted and gaunt, and hardly ever conscious

i met fate on the edge of chance, of a good luck charm. of a missing someone.
i met fate in the words tangled in tongue
where all you sing is unsung

and if you can't walk, you'll run

The man who wears a leather belt and uses sensible words
loves her in cobalt violet, in the streaks of a hazy violent sky
after a storm has passed and she lets him
he claims that the egg people are coming, they’ll bring with
them handful of gifts of glory, of the things people hide
in the crevices of sidewalks, in the spaces where identity cards
are devoured by the teeth of the unknown
the television is always on and the static that surrounds them
is the serenading music she listens to before she falls asleep at night
she pretends that love is painting one’s nails while the other
loses their mind
as he laughs at the invisible neighbors outside the window
his bones can smell the coming of the apocalypse
and it’s not in the form of a swarm, or a flood
it comes in the bodies of girls with strawberry blonde
hair and that’s why he’s so drawn to her
and why his mother was swallowed by the earth
she learns that illness comes in permanent mauve
the walls of her room are covered in that hue
the boy she sneaks cigarettes from at the diner
in his car the color is almost a tangible personification
the smoke blows out into the crisp air like a bag of potato chips
the lungs constrict and expand
the thoughts hindered from years of yielding to the yellow sun
with the ****** robe
the child, the woman, the human lives in ****
but the thinker manages to escape years later
and live in the suburbs on an easy paycheck from
foolish strangers that believe that gasoline is a cheap party trick
and a fantastic high
she doesn’t recognize touch anymore besides
the harsh graze of asphalt hitting her knees
people seldom realize that freedom is not in
the way your toes curl but in the way they finally unfurl
how curious you can spot patterns where there are none
to be rescued does not always come in the way of clean arms

She loved him in transparent maroon
the grasp of warm sand kissing you gently