#avolition
So you tell yourself,
don't write about your sadness;
bottle it in
like the forgotten pills
in a medicine kit.
Bury yourself
underneath a bunch of blankets
and hope that the land mines inside you
stay hidden,
just as your scars stay hidden
beneath those bands.
Instead,
write the prettiest, emptiest,
make-believe poems —
nothing about the eclipse
constantly obscuring the sun.
Nothing about the random break downs
that no longer wait
for midnights and 3 ams.
Nothing about the aimless walks
and the piles of books
you can't read
because reading is exhausting
and everything is exhausting.
You tell yourself,
don't write about it, otherwise,
you'll be forced to trade places
with all kinds of sadness
you've secretly been hosting
all this time,
and they'll cut their way out
through the fresh stitches on your chest.
And you'll have to bleed
all over again,
and not just on your wrists,
but on your eyes
and on your legs
and your thighs,
down,
down,
dripping to these words.
So again, you tell yourself,
don't write about your sadness, darling —
don't write about it.
But then,
how do you stop writing about sadness
when you never run out of it
to write about?
Sep 13, 2019
Sep 13, 2019 at 12:30 AM UTC
15 minutes felt like 6 months
Do you know that?
Laying on bed, dark room
Sound of music from the radio
Rainy weather, dry throat
Huge sweater, fetal position
15 minutes felt like 6 months
Do you know that?
Don't know what to do
Don't know what to say
Don't know what to find
Looking forward to nothing
15 minutes felt like 6 months
Simple sky in my head
No sun, just clouds
Will rain, will rain
No sunshine, no sunshine
Heart beats last lifetime
No complex thoughts of tomorrow
Just teardrops of yesterday
15 minutes felt like 6 months
Do you know that?
Don't know if wasting
Don't know but enjoying
Jul 7, 2016
Jul 7, 2016 at 7:39 AM UTC