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I want to be the light leaking through your kitchen window.

The fresh juice.
Warm muffins.
Birds singing.
Coffee brewing.

                                                    But,
                                                I am not.


I’m the leaky faucet you still haven’t got around to fixing.

The orange peels.
Burnt toast.
Cracked eggs.
Broken mug.

                                        Breakfast ruined.

𓇋

Eyes burning
Head spinning
Palms dry

What is happening?
What am i doing?

Will it be worth it in the end?

Will i remember these filler-days as much as the valuable ones?

True is a moment of the false
False?

Head spinning
Eyes burning
Palms dry

Have i done this to myself?

A victim of my own devices standing stoically blue.

the moon pulls the tide over the sand like a blanket over a babe that turns in their sleep

It’s midnight somewhere and the waves repeat simple instructions
ssshhhh

I’m waiting for you;
Waiting for you to
Appear,
Yet I fear
That you never will.
It’s been twelve years
And you still
Haven’t arrived
In my life.
Where are you, pray tell?
I should know all too well
If you’re here,
But I still don’t think you’re near.

I almost fell down the pit
But I was held up by a thousand strings
I was glad they saved me
But not the pain it brings

It took every muscle to hold me up
For the strings, I had to carry them all
But maybe I want a break
Maybe for once I want to fall

I hate
The stabbing feeling
At my food and water’s gate
Into my body.
Hate dealing
With the bacteria in me
When their arrows
Are pointed in that narrow,
Singular spot
When anything cold or hot
Just hurts. Please
Leave me alone; no lease
Was signed before
You declared war
On the space
That wasn’t yours
In the first place.

Sweat
Drips down my forehead.
I regret
Joining this race
In the first place
(Though there’d be nothing else to
Do
Instead).
My whole body
Is on fire; I’m wondering what drove me
To run
At the start.
My heart’s
Used to the sprint, but this one
Is unbearably long.
Why does everyone else look so strong?
Others are
Far
Ahead of my pathetic last
Place. This is the time for me
To be
Running fast,
Yet images of past
Failures (no victory
In sight) is all I can see.
I’m tired.
My throttles have been fired.
Continuing this race is just cruel–
I’ve already run out of fuel.

All of a sudden, I'm cold.
The air tickles my nose as it cools my throat, and my knees quiver under the cotton knitting of my jeans.

All of a sudden, I'm tired.
Everyday. All day.
The pages turn, each with less vigor than the last.

All of a sudden I'm sore.
My hands creaking; back aching.
Time stomps its stone feet on my shoulders, as it should, without regret.

All of a sudden, I'm purposeless.
The passion I admire slips through my fingers and trickles onto the floor like water from a dish towel.

All of a sudden, I'm angry.
Sounds of hate escape my soul through pursed lips.
I curse myself by laying seige to those closest to me.

All of a sudden, I'm stagnant.
Sinking in life slowly until bedrock.
My troubles rise through my toes like chains locking me in.

All of a sudden, I'm lost.
Alone, Pulling at synapses to recover what was once my image.

The air tickles my nose as it cools my throat.
All of a sudden, the man I once was is forgotten.