If I write,
I don't exist.
I'm simple code in a simple form
I am the words your brain will scan
I'm part of the machine.
Someone told me once
that I kept the relationship together.
Said that if I didn't text first,
that if I didn't put the effort to communicate
we'd be nothing
I'm tired of being the one that does it
I'm so tired of caring so much for people that
would never care
in a fractioned metaphor
of my feelings
Maybe like leaves
you'll slowly drop from me
bits and pieces,
slowly but surely
and I'll be left bare.
Perhaps in the slow form, it'll be easier to handle
I'll know its coming
I'll let go before you release.
BUT IT'S JUST ONE DAY, J
no
nononononono.
No, it is not
It's every day.
You don't care.
I think that it's time for me to do the same
WHAT AM I DOING?
I'll ask again
what? am I doing?
I can't remember.
I had a plan for this, I had to have had a plan for this
it had a story
the ending wouldn't just cut off.
I must keep going.
help
If I down a few more melatonin,
I'll fall asleep eventually.
BUT WHAT IF YOU RESPOND DURING THAT TIME?
I DONT CARE I DONT CARE
The latter is the convincer
I'm much too manic to listen
much less understand.
I think that I'm severely depressed.
These episodes need to stop.
I wish that I could smell things.
I wish more than anything that I could smell things.
that way I'd find some comfort in her jackets.
they're physical.
here, they cradle my body
and though it is my movements
they rock me to existence.
I wish I could smell
so that I could find some sort of security in describing to you
exactly what it means to smell you.
Given that I can't talk
Given that I can't smell too
It all feels pointless.
I miss things that I never get the chance to comprehend.
I miss whatever it feels like to realize you love me
I miss waking up in your arms, too
but I know what that's like
I miss it a lot.
I don't get hugged a lot or touched a lot
at least not in a good, loving way
I don't get told I'm beautiful even if my hair is a mess
and my morning breath burns away wills to live
I don't curl up in peoples arms and trust them with my being
I don't wake up without nightmares flooding an already drowning mind
until you
until those nights with you
and being away from that was torture.
I have hated every night since then.
I'm overflowing with these ANTAGONIZING
wants to be back against you.
the sleepy arm misses compression
half-awake eyes miss the blurry form your good mornings kiss into me.
I love you.
I love you
and I'm okay-
I'm better now writing that. I'll be fine eventually.
but I can't just keep holding up the world
the relationship
in hopes you'll give me a hand when you feel like it.
So goodnight.
Because you still haven't responded.
and at this point?
I'm not surprised.
I'm just
...