I tend to follow strings
That lead no where
Sometimes even
They dangle off dark trenches
And I'm such a fool
I follow them to my doom

I lock all my doors
With bolts and keys
You're always pounding on the doors
And I always let you in
If your knuckles are already bruised
Might as well knock some sense into me

I light fires
That I don't know how put out
[  ] Sometimes I find hoses
And I'm filled with hope
Unfortunately
I don't know how those work either

I keep crashing cars
On the sides of mountains
The radio sings like molasses
Not a soul around
And yet I still always manage
To blame the traffic in the city

I forget the time
And the dates on the calender
When the sun sets on my face
All I truly know
Is another day is done
And another day is wasted

The words I speak
Are far too similar to yours
I feel the dirt on my tongue
A bitter taste that I ignore
So to counteract this fear
Of your vocab matching mine
I started brushing harder
To loosen up the grime
I want that Colgate white
That fresh uncaring scent
I need you out of my molars
Scraped clean of your cement
I stand over the sink
For hours at a time
Just tearing at my gums
To sever that line
Now I'm shouting in the mirror
Why can't you leave me be
There's blood in my spit
You're rooted like my teeth
I'm stuck in this house
So I'm swishing my mouth
And spitting you out
With you I'll live without
When I'm no longer stuck in this house
And you in my mouth

I don't like the way my brain rattles
I don't see any benefit
And i really do despise
That you're the one shaking it
I have life to be lived
Yet im stuck in this exile
Of your on and offs
And staring at your profile
I laugh at our potential
And cry when I remember
You're hotter than July
And colder than December
I thought you were a bee
Turns out you are a wasp
Or maybe you're a red light
And ive forgotten how to stop
That tag on my shirt
Digs into my neck
Crawls up to my brain
And leaves me in a wreck
So you find it funny
How much I think of you
Your comedy needs some work
Maybe try something new
I'm really getting bothered
Just leave me I beg
Stop telling me lies
And get out of my head

Amalgamation of missed information
I have to resist the temptation
To rename myself a "bad result of experimentation"
Is to love someone to control their mood?
To turn them upside down when you're feeling rude
I tried for weeks to be astute
But in just one minute you made it all a fluke
Can I get better please?
Heal from this illness, cure my disease
Due to my hysteria I would take any pill
To not let you affect me, get back my free will
Its painful to be alone
But I feel better when im not owned
Branded to be a slave to your polarity
Leaving my creativity
And all I love to your bad proclivities

I hope you know, hidden in my formal banter
Is a love letter begging to be answered
But you don't know how your laughter affects me so

I thought we were alike
I thought that I could try
To creep a little closer
But I need my distance because when I'm older
I'll feel better and far more sober
About the fact I was a lover of your sillouette

I don't understand your language
I only feel hatred leaping off the page
But your gaze is so gentle
Even though it's not meant for me
It's a drug that could put an insomniac to sleep

I looked for you when it was weeks
Would trudge through the snowstorm,whiten my cheeks
I don't make you happy because you're free
To walk away at any time

So I guess I waste my breath
Nostalgic 'cause theres nothing left
For me to give you but this weight is hefty
I'd bear it all for you just like I always have

My heart aches for change
But in my web of dullness im stuck just the same
I look for someone else to occupy the space of me
Ignoring my own responsibility
In favor of forgetfulness, self pity
I need to take a walk
Because the fresh air talks
It whistles "i love you"
As it caresses my cheeks
Making me cold but making me feel
I try to stimulate gratitude
It's all artificial like the self I refuse to give latitude
Fake is better when it's more real
Than the emptiness of everything I feel
I don't think i've been human for years
Maybe I was cursed from the moment I was reared
By parents who wanted their eldest to have company
Of someone who was funny
I was an accident who's hardly happy
But is not life made of disrupted repetitions
Are all characters bound to tradition
Of fickle meanings I think not
In the end of my nonsense I hope my words continue to talk

In need of space i'm in a slump
Cleaning up the garbage, quenching the fire of the dump
I smear delicacy on a skin too familiar to coarse, salty tears
And tell the mirror to go to sleep, that rest will soothe its fears
I don't care to question if it deserves love
The answer lies in the future, determined up above
I fight for a future that continues to move
That shakes the red in an unstable groove
If I stumble all won't break
I dance atop the tightrope of fate
As I have seen the abyss, it knows me well
All too familiar is that alluring smell
I've grown to know better perfumes
I chase better things rather than the drama of threat or self sabotaging doom

Every morning, driving,
I see the orange sun rising,
trying to shove my problems
into a four-inch storage bin.
Lock it tight behind a
four-inch orange door.
Inject myself with a syringe
full of poisonous illusions,
covered in mental wounds,
I fall to the floor,
self-hate oozing.

Losing sleep,
screaming inside.
Drifting apart in my car—
I wanna call you.
My heart’s sinking,
tryna salvage good moments.
It’s a challenge
to forgive myself again.

I’m sorry.
I haven’t left
you a message.
All day, I’ve wanted
to talk to you.
Sitting in my car,
watching the orange
sun falling down,
I drift…

Any relationship,
friendship or more,
is a game of charades.
It’s messy when
two sides elaborate—
lost in gesture,
illusions and
miscommunications
that leave more questions
instead of answers.

It’s scary…
to talk,
to reach out
to someone,
sometimes—
they might hate you,
grow annoyed by your texts,
see you as a burden,
or simply walk away.
You want them to stay,
then you feel greedy,
stupid or strange to say it.

That’s the point.
Charades is never clever;
Everything is a guess—
A choice.
And each choice
is a fifty-fifty bet—
like Russian Roulette,
where you pull the trigger
to see what happens.

It gets messy…