I can see it now.
Nothing is separate, everything is one and I am it.
You are me and I am you.
And so is that tree, and so is that empty Starbucks cup.
But how do I not forget?
How can I rewire this silly brain to default towards such a party?
It is a party after all – unconditional love. I’ve tasted it.
It doesn’t taste like frogs, I’ll tell you that much.
Frogs might like the taste of it though.
Frogs.
Louis la Grenouille.
The only problem is that once you can see it, even if you don’t remember it all the time, you can still tell that everything means nothing.
Which is a great antidote for shame and fear, but also hope.
I used to hope for a new pair of shoes, but all the stores closed.
Even the frozen yogurt store.
And I miss Charlese who served me my strawberry swirl.
I gave her my number but I think she lost it.
I can see it now.
She didn’t.

Spoiled and corrupted, my love interrupted.
Purity smashed and dirtied and dashed.
What have I done, will she ever come back?

Please undo this seemingly unfixable mess.

Trapped in this house,
It's still not too bad.
But I keep checking my phone
And it's making me mad.

Why can't I care, and want, and fear
A normal amount regarding my peer?
I want her so bad, but do I really?
I think maybe I'm being silly.

Love, love, what the **** is it?
Trapped beneath, beside, behind it.
Afraid, compulsive, depressed, hopeful..
Love is just ******* awful.

The sadness of a room bleeds through its walls and drips down onto the floor.
Vibrancy and melancholy dance circles round one another but never quite touch.
And the hollow whooshing of emptiness emerges from behind, sweeping past my shoulders and ears, reminding me that all is nothing and everything is one.

Every day I go around the world and back
But I never leave my own head.
The thing I fear most,
And my greatest relief,
I'm averse to and crave my own death.

Ants crawling round in a nest of confusion.
Chaos and order;
Messy organization.
Spilling out my ears and onto my lap.
And my heart sinks as I realize I'm almost out of tissues and Raid.

Crisp day, sun shine;
Black death.
Birds chirp, leaves dance;
Despair.
Love blossomed, pleasure realized;
I dig my own grave another foot deeper.

What can stop this incessant ringing?

Like colliding with a mirror in a fun house maze and looking a **** up straight in the face;
Like being wet and cold while completely dry;
Like time has paused at the very worst of moments, and is going in fast forward simultaneously;
Like you’ve never done anything good;
Like your heart is in the wrong place and your mind is filtering anything of value;
Like everyone hates you. And not even a fudge-filled ice cream cake will cheer you up;
Like the opposite of playing with half a dozen golden retriever puppies;
Like a future containing happiness is populated only with flying pigs;
Like being stuck in a crowded shopping mall during an anxiety attack;
Like being rejected by a cat you were trying to pet and everybody saw;
Like death becomes oddly appealing;
Like solving an impossible puzzle under the pressure of a loud, ticking timer;
Like raw pleasure is the only thing that still makes sense but you know it won’t do so for long;
Like your own thoughts are the enemy,
And your outfits are too denimy.
Like you’ve just written a poem and it’s just too ****** silly.