the pompous one
with her comments
as she slithers by
with
the rudest
of dogs

the confident family;
confident
     to a fault
sitting too close
and talking
too loud

the hypocrite
complaining
of the mess
and leaving behind
a scavenger's
detritus

the insecure sage
a font of knowledge
based on
hearsay
and opinion
with only
a pinch
     of fact

the innocently gormless
with no thought
for sense
     or logic
common or otherwise
but only
for the now
and
the immediate

these are
the passengers
on the
carousel
     of frustrations
for today;
replayed
rephrased
resurrected
over
and over

i think
so little
     of them
yet
i'm unable
to stop myself
thinking
about them

it's easy to criticize people
for how they deal with pressure.
but it's important to realize that pressure,
like people, come in all different shapes, colors, and sizes;
they affect people differently.
because he doesn't drink just to drink.
and she doesn't smoke just to smoke.
they're trying to forget how broken they are inside.
trying anything to escape their minds.
escape their lives.
and, at the end of the day, that's all we want to do too.

Today, I'm conflicted:
I don't want to remember you
But I don't want to forget either.

leaving grief. and i—i now remember why
i should never have allowed anyone
to get under my buckling skin
for fine friends are only fine, friends until
they know the perfect way to damage
the stillborn remnants of what you hold on to
them, without patience, distraught,
you; promises of finding someone better
overhearing a devotion that cannot possibly be true
only useful in the event of an epiphanic letdown
i love you but why have i loved you
did i love you because you were kind for five seconds
and it was only fair to bleed when it should not be enough
did you not love me because i wasn’t enough
or because you knew i was nothing to be proud of?
from knowing too much, trusting too well
follies and fey melodies for a final disconnect
i loved you never mean what you say
say anything to say anything to say anything to say
sorry. your smug conversation is one i carry still with me
even as the tactile memory of you burns
and my singed skin curls into the shape of an old friend
who never cared. i never remember to forget
they’ll always be there until they aren’t
leaving, grief, and i—i no longer wish for a happier end
i only wish there was a softer way to recover.

Some haunting memories
recurring every alternate day,
Stopping only to breath
to start afresh,
To play longer
this game of torture,

I dream of a dream in a dream
running helplessly to extinguish
the fire on my back,
Scratching the burnt shirt,
wallowing in sand & dust like a dog,
And when nothing helps
jumps into a muddy pond,

Like a theatre actor I'm
playing my part,
my role in my body,
I've transformed into no one now,
I live nowhere
But in mind,

I'm doomed, O forgetful!
Only because of remembering you.