(tw; existentialism)

I am intimidated by you,
though perhaps it is not you that I am intimidated by,
but simply that time seems to fly
faster than I am capable of falling in stride.
The universe is infinite
but my existence is the opposite,
limited,
and I am terrified to die.

Stones hinged
In jagged mystery
Behind whispered veils
And torrid grays.

A damp earth hinting
The bashful sun
bides it’s peak.

Morning is a majesty
parried
By chaotic wakes.

Hark!
The stolen kingdom!

All is Regicide;
the car
the train
the lovers quarrel

Over coffee-
A public execution.

Mysteries remain

The sun bides less
Unabashed-
Fading
with the grays.

We’ll try again
tomorrow.

I can't imagine anything else
It feels pointless to try
I was given this
Whatever it is
Everything it is
Painful, scary, heartbreaking
Sometimes beautiful
Beautiful enough to keep me here

Continue,
Continue

There might be more
Something good
Holding out for magic
Things I felt when I was young
Before reality was cement
It feels like lifetimes ago
Ancient pain
Ancient fear and guilt and shame
I can't distinguish now from then
I am wrapped up in it
Trapped by it and caged by it
Changed by it
Chained to it
Is living truly to suffer
I see that now

Continue,
Continue

I cried unconsolably in public once.
I don’t remember why.

But people walked right past me.
Kind of like the gods when I cry to the sky.

Sometimes, I try to pray.
I’ll talk to the empty room, secretly hoping something’s listening.

I’ll cry to an empty room, hoping something is listening.
But then, I realize, the room is empty.

And my tears are falling to an indifferent world.
My tears are falling to an indifferent god.

My pain is mine alone.

And then I cry, because no one can hear me.
I cry, because I feel stupid for thinking anyone can hear me.

And then I cry harder because I come to the realization
that if someone is listening,
They’re on an invisible plane, walking right past me, watching me cry.

Sometimes, I’ll scream at the ceiling in my room.
I’ll scream, “Why, why why?”
At the things in the sky.

And I curse it. I curse every god I know.

I taunt them to take me.
I curse and scream at my existence and their ineptitude

Because I secretly hope something is listening.

Because if they take me, it means something is listening.
And if someone was listening
And I died
it means I was never alone.

But then I realize I’m pleading with an empty room.

And then I cry, because no can hear me.
I cry, because my cries for death were met with indifference

And then I realize,
That humans don’t want my pain
And the things don’t want it either  

And then I realize,
That I’m either totally alone
Or just another thing, prone to cry
To the things in the sky

I don’t want to die, but I’m indifferent to live.

I don’t want to join this cult.

But, I don’t want to leave.

They say we need purpose

But what if I was chosen not to have one?

What if my purpose is to make others feel better for having one?

At least they’re not me.

I don’t want to die, but living is not fun

It’s just navigating through things without a map, with no solid truth

And every decision affects you, except you don’t know how

And every decision is haunted with a “what if”?

And every decision is plagued with a “I should have…”

The gods won’t save you.

Psychics don’t know.

And the wise haven’t traversed your waters.

None the wiser.

It’s hard for me to grasp that I live in a world that is indifferent to my existence and there is no absolute truth.

It’s hard to navigate it.

There are things that I simply cannot control and every decision I make is plagued with uncertainty; there is no right answer, just consequences.

Sometimes, the consequences are clear. Other times, they’re not, and manifest much later.

You think you want something, but you don’t. And the only way to find out, is to do it.

You do it. You decide to give it a proper chance.

It’s not going as you hope.

But, you invested so much time and energy into it, it might not be worth throwing it all away.

But then again, maybe it might.

And by the time you do, you’re thinking you should’ve done it months ago.

So much time wasted.

Now, it’s time to try something new. But what?

You don’t trust yourself very much, because what you thought you liked, you didn’t actually end up liking. Or finishing, even.

You wasted too much time and you’re not getting it back.

If you’re going to invest time and energy into something, shouldn’t you know if it’ll be worth it?

But you don’t know.

So then, you don’t try it.

But then you realize, you should have.

And you wasted all this time doing nothing.

Back to square one.

You can’t have reward without risk.

But how do you know which risk to take?

I guess that’s why it’s called a risk, right?

But, not every risk yields a reward.

Sometimes, your best isn’t enough, right?

I mean, not everyone can be rewarded, right?

Some people are rewarded with wisdom.

But wisdom doesn’t get you very far in this world.

Sometimes, knowing too much does more harm than good.

Some people were ****** from the beginning.

You may not have been ****** from the beginning. But you haven’t left your comfort bubble.

Because you don’t trust your decisions.

Your battle is metnal.

You never feel ready.

You never feel good enough.

But you know you have to do something.

But you don’t know what.

So, you prepare yourself for something you think you might want.

But you prepare too much, to where you don’t end up doing it.

But if you under prepare, you’ll kick yourself for not preparing enough.

You should’ve waited a little longer.

Why didn’t you wait one more month?

You should’ve read that book.

Back to square one.

You’re not really religious, but you pray.

You know no one has the answers, but you ask other people that have been in your shoes.

You visit psychics.

None the wiser.

You have the answer.

But you’re festering in your own confusion.

Back to square one.

nimble hands knit quickly through satin and sun–bleached linens
poking and pulling on hundreds of fine strings
find comfort and closure in tight fitting mittens
who’s corners and ridges so carefully sewn

children braiding red grass in the garden
an old woman resting her body at dawn
i owe these my life– these small, simple moments
that bring warmth to my skin when nothing else does.