sitting in perpetual paradise
yet yearning deeply for more
making  existence ephemeral
and my times desires.
as i drink the sadness
of the stars
gulp it down
to the lees
i wonder
what's a greater agony
going to bed with the crushing
burden of your own existence
or
the deafening echo of the universe
saying that you don't matter
Overthinking concepts then,
Conceptualising my overthought thoughts,
And being wrought with Lovecraftian insecurity,
Words stumble out like it’s three at the club,
Thoughts confused like it’s three at the club,
Existential then small; then harrowing then disparagingly normal,
Repeating points and the still being lost from the point,
Frustration as we weave around the point,
Where’s Wally-ing the words I’m looking for,
A million in one,
I wonder what the exact Wally statistic is,
Am I bi?
Or straight?
Or confused?
Or alive?
Or real?
Am I happy?
Or sad?
Or alive?
Or real?
Am I loved?
Or lost?
Or alive?
Or real?
Every problem upscaled to reality,
An anxiety manifested in universal proportions,
If life is a story, then why’s mine so close to not being boring?
Like a film with the wrong director but the right script,
Through hardship and pain,
you would hope I became,
Something more,
Or learn a lesson,
Yet every lesson I learnt is being rewritten,
No solid thought,
Just liquid existence,
It’s all in connections,
Nature is woman,
And harshness is man,
The link exists I’m sue,
But finding the words I’m lost,
Scores of wondrous ideas with no real reason,
Life has no reason,
Life’s full of reason,
Life is the reason,
I’ve never truly lost,
I only get kicked from group chats or families,
Without family we lack identity,
Without reason this poem lacks footing in reality,
My reality lacks footing in reality,
Is this meant to happen on the daily?
It’s three at the club,
Waiting for the taxi,
Writing on the memo app,
Hoping that when I wake up these words mean something,
Or if they don’t then at least they read well,
In the morning,
Where I’ll be dirty and yawning,
Forgetting these events as they’re fleeting,
I’ve been theorising that all people fantasise about dying,
Pushing ourselves till we destroy it all trying,
Die an icon,
Or a bastard,
Either way end up forgotten,
Controversially, I would call myself an optimist,
Not traditionally, sure,
But this longing is the purest,
Confused.
For me.
Tarik 3d
Dying young ain't so bad.
She once told me.
I couldn't fathom. To die young?
What a miserable waste.

Dying young ain't so bad.
She retorted.
It provoked me. To die young?
Old age seems inane.

Dying young ain't so bad.
I told her.
She retracted. To die young?
Can we extend the clock a bit?

Dying young ain't so bad.
I comforted her.
She gazed in silence. To die young?
Not now.

Dying young ain't so bad.
I buried her.
I have forgotten how to love myself
I don't think anything has changed
But I know they say
You learn to hate
Those you've been around too long

I think I'm here to stay
So should I just find another way?
Maybe the lack of change
Is the false whisper of comfort

There are chains on my ankles
And they are cutting through flesh
The one I hate put them there
Swallowed the key
Probably to feel less empty

But what about me?
But what about me?

There is an echo
It's the voice of a selfish fool
Who needs help
And doesn't know what to do
We have too much in common
Something has to change
But these chains
I wish I could wake up early
And greet the morning
"Hey, how you been doing?"
And it would ask me the same

I wish I could wake up early
And tell the sun
That I'm really trying
And that I'm sorry
For always lying to myself

I wish I could wake up early
Escape the darkness
That I keep serving
I don't know how much more
I can give

I wish I could wake up early
I wish I knew how to live
I wish I could better myself
I wish I had something else to give
I wish I could catch up to my dreams
I wish I knew what they were
I was going to go somewhere with this but then...? Oh well
Run away
Run away
Run as fast as you can

No more of these days
No more feeling trapped
No more rattling in the cage

When the door's been open
Just turn the other way

No more rattling in the cage

Run away
Before the death throes
Run away

Run away
Feeling worse than I ever have and I don't know what to do.
Next page