Half full yet...
I keep
dripping,
spilling,
crying,
breathing.

Everything creeps up,
and I empty myself.

I empty... myself?
They empty me.

Thoughts past zero degrees,
ice-cold breaths give me a mouthful of red.

empty cup, empty head,
an efficient way
to keep myself there.

Fret not for being the submerged stone below.
You may hit rock bottom, and there may be nowhere else to go.
The surrounding water will harbor you from the noise.

All that matters is that you do not decide that you are bound to be there forever.

We chased a feeling
not a reality

We both wanted someone
So desperately
that we found each other

Even though no part of
us
worked

Our pieces didn’t fit together
so we pressed and jammed them
until they were stuck
and stayed that way
Until
we broke

-red flags

Echoes of that lying indulgence
for the ideal world left out in the open;
calls to you.

And due to the loneliest somber room
you've kept yourself as a prisoner,
all you do is try and grip the walls

Forever looking into the lens
with a filter of that serene land in your head,
a dream that you continue...
to live through.