I stalk through the dark hallways
Drifting through remnants of a sun.
Spirals into vortexes, cascading shafts of light on
Brief transits inward, where time falters.
Forces push & pull and all around
The tide of the cosmos envelopes me,
Wading through the static sea
Waves come in crashing-
Laughter, screams
And yet, no sound escapes the vacuum

they tell me that we’re made of stardust,
but i don’t feel like something so glorious.

i feel like the dark side of the moon,
like the space between worlds,
like the howling void,
and the empty cascade of dying suns.

i feel like silence,
like i’m screaming with no one to hear me.

An avalanche of empathy
             dislodged
covering me in suffocating
                                realisation.

That I wasn't the mountain,
       more the snow.
               Soft and delicate,
   sentiment never compacted enough.

In my life there are three things:
A feeling of emptiness,
a hollow laugh and blank face,
Hiding behind a mask

I wonder day by day
nothing changing
the world around me is unimportant.
In my life there are three things:

My own emotions elude me
they go about their days
hiding in the back of my brain
a feeling of emptiness

Upon my face there sits
a person I don't know
Because of all I ever am is
a hollow laugh and blank face

Day by day, night by night
nobody ever bothers to look
but I never bother to tell, I'm
hiding behind a mask

Water running through toes and over elbows.
Cascading down forearms and up necks.

Falling in stampedes from underneath eyelids
PIT PAT
PIT PAT
PIT PAT
Onto shoelaces and ankles and
Fabric draped across our laps.

This is the feeling of an afternoon spent entangled in
Covers. The sensation of a cold breeze
Swooping us up on its burdensome wings
Only to ask “Where’s my tip?” and the shrugging shoulders
That follow. The rattle of empty pockets. The
Shattering of glass and a cry for HELP
So incredibly ARDUOUS it slices your throat
Like a steel blade
SSSSSS SSSSSSSSSSSS
SSSSSSSSSSSSSSS SSSSSSSSSS
SS­SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS
And the clock doesn’t stop ticking
Around and around until you’re too dizzy.

This is the feeling of water running through toes and over elbows. Cascading down forearms and up necks. This is the feeling of an afternoon spent entangled in covers. The feeling of a cold breeze swooping us up on it burdensome wings. The feeling of a cry so arduous it slices your throat like a steel blade.

In the cascade of my feelings,

a steep precipice separated the ways

disconnecting every bit from you

left me waiting on the long days