I miss you.
I miss the clouds that we made.
I miss the stars that we stare.
I miss the unicorn that jump at the ocean.
I miss the nights, where we sail the galaxy.
I miss your touch.

i'm supposed to
be the captain of this ship
i should be controlling it,
but all it is doing is
slowly sinking and
out here there is no
escape or exit.

Your head submerges into the
Deep
Dark
Blue abyss
There is silence
True silence
Underwater is the only place where true silence exists
Your once formless breaths of air now take shape
And every next bubble is another bubble closer to death
You could die right here right now
But
For once in your life you dont feel like dying
Your head comes back up
You gasp to retain all the bubbles you lost
You hear tiny annoying little voices
Screaming
Yelling
Crying
You start to wonder if you made the right choice
You chuckle at the thought
Something misconstrued as a sin
You submerge your head
To part from the noise
For the sweet sweet silence
Of water again

every year i mature
and age
feels like
a million more realizations
that this life is
depressing
and a waste

maybe depressing
is the wrong word
should use
miserable
agony
despair
like HEY
you there
consciousness
or
soul
whatever you call
the me that is me
before this body
here
latch onto this vessel
this insignificant
organism
in the grand scheme
of life
and
**** IT UP HORRIBLY

wish i had
someone other than myself
to blame
for my own sadness
the tears that fall
are not from another
hurting me
they are from
the me that is me
that is hurting
myself
daily

how else
to live
how else
can i
survive
i do not know
another way
do not think
i could learn

just
depression
with
distractions
distractions
distractions

have another ******
play another game
talk to another person
person
who is more human
than me

i do not feel
human
i do not feel
whole
i feel
like
the bottom
of my cup
of tea
just
remnants
of sadness
and bits
of
the tea leaves
the essence
of myself
only to be
washed
down the drain

It's been a little while since I tried this
self-therapy via words
that I won't share with anyone
but strangers near or far

a little while since my prose
got up from their beds
dusted off some cobwebs
and stretched their limbs

a little while since the black ichor
the ink that sometimes
bleeds out onto laptop keys
became mediocre poetry

and I get it, life's been hard
not too hard, but busy
not emotionally, but physically
and I didn't really need it

but I missed this
this little stretch of mental finesse
this warming up of metaphors
this cracking of poetic knuckles

Maybe this is what it's like to be understood.

I think the hardest part of loving someone
Is the prologue
It's the small talks
The casual glances
I think the aches of missing someone
The wanting to know him
The know that he is someone you'll fall deep for
To be sure that this is a risky choice
Yet I am all in to fall in love again and again
In love with souls I've yet to meet
All the more with the ones I've yet to know