Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Josh Jul 2017
Strangers at the bus stop
Always moving, a microcosm
Life in miniature
All convinced they need to get somewhere
When it doesn't really matter
They wait, impatiently
And i wait with them
But when my bus comes
I do not wish away the journey
I know that the destination, and time
Are unimportant
Yet, I hope
Someone might speak to me
Fill, however briefly
This silent time existing
With a flicker, of humanity
We will see
Josh Jul 2017
I live in, a quiet house
Arguments are quiet
Everything subdued
As if a blanket has settled
A weariness, almost
They will not, who knows why
It is like, not building a fire
Because the wood won't last forever
Pointless
I need a shout
Life, shrug off this stillness
Be rid of this lethargy
I would shoot myself
Or someone else
To have, to feel
Even to see
Feeling, an argument above a whisper
Somebody light me on fire
Josh Jul 2017
You might have passed me
Sitting, on a bench
Maybe with a stranger, smoking a cigarette
Or writing, maybe reading a book
I question, did you wonder?
Who I am, or maybe you thought I had a distinctive feature
For a brief moment, I existed, in the periphery of your own, and you in mine
A meeting, however brief, of our existences
Josh Jul 2017
Stargazing is a strange act
Or wishing upon those self same things
They aren't even corpses, they are shadows
Shadows of ghosts of long dead giants
But we ****** upon them
Our wishes, our hopes
This hillside is damp
With late summer dew
But I don't move
As I feel it soak my shirt
Maybe this is part of the experience
I do not know, I do not pin my hopes
On long dead, once burning gases
So I lay, and look, not really seeing
Unsure, uncertain of my role
Josh Jul 2017
I told a girl, I loved her, once
And have since I was ten
For though life has no meaning
It does not mean there should be no knowing
Indeed, I would never wish ignorance upon anyone
She knew, she said, it was no real secret
A flurry of messages, confession, acceptance
Maybe even an inkling of understanding
And then, my shame
It doesn't matter
That small exchange
Of letters, and periods and pauses
Will be forgotten when we die
Josh Jul 2017
They gather, to hear musicians play
A few small groups litter the grass
They are like the music
Or the summer sun
They are fleeting
They exist, but for a time
They may even live
But they too shall pass
Into nothing
Should I envy them?
Their joy, however fleeting
Perhaps not
And yet, I do
Josh Jul 2017
Mostly, I am numb
Sometimes I feel
I feel fire, tearing my chest
Or rivers, cascading down my cheeks
I feel that I am, a ghost already
I feel insubstantial
As I breathe, because I must
I pretend, fake, living
In fact I simply move
I follow the actions
The processes, to survive
I, am numb
Sometimes, I feel
Josh Jul 2017
And so it begins
A change of scene
The doctor offered pills
But suggested therapy
Thinking, as I hope
I can become a better me
I have paperwork
And advice, for now
I'll get a counsellor
Spill my guts out
Cut out the bad parts
Mental surgery
If that doesn't work
Then I will take the pills
To keep me functioning
I will exist, until I start to live
Josh Jul 2017
Here I sit, this bus stop
This inbetween
A liminal space
Possibility, all that we are
Can be described in these places
Uncertain, possible
The promise of going
But no set destination
I hear two strangers
Talking about relationships
The desire to be with someone
Clutching, scrabbling for something
Anything, this is human
Josh Jul 2017
The jukebox plays an oldie
Everyone is drunk
But they all know the words
If they don't know his name
This, is fame
A memory, one day lost
Think of Alexandria
Now nothing
Once so great
Or deities lost to history
That is the path we all take
We are born, we exist
Maybe even live
We die, and are forgotten
There is no hereafter
No pearly gates
No endless fire
Birth, existence
Then we expire
This is humanity
Next page