I sit on my bed, Gaze soft and unfocused. Wrapped in the remnants of a shirt you left behind. Or maybe I stole it. An air conditioned breeze sends a chill through over-sized armholes that expose the flesh of my *******. It wakes me from my hazy state. Glancing up, for a moment I see you in this shirt... But it’s my own reflection in the mirror directly opposite my bed. Disappointment washes over me and I let my gaze slide to the window. Up, I see the summer moon as the ghost of you fades from the forefront of my mind, to its rightful home in my subconscious. You and I are simply not to be. Fated in another life, But now our lives are intertwined and intimately connected to others. This dream is not mine, nor is it yours, to have.
It is time. To bury a memory, a hope, a dream. I watch, from the edge of our six foot trench, As my own hands throw the first earth on an unmarked grave.
The anguish in this alienating aloneness is alarmingly enlightening I am aware as the colors of my aura fade from vibrant to mute A spiraling sense of self grasps at false promises of hope or help Each face that shows itself as an ally is simply mirage or ghost Or wisps of nothingness I probably hallucinated to cope I am an anchor in a rushing tide Life floods by with no more than a glance over the shoulder Some collide from behind urging me to move on, frustrated when I don’t align with their idea of time I need to be unapologetically ‘not ok’ Imagine my electric shock when I find that’s not an option The anguish in this alienating aloneness is alarmingly enlightening
Is a bunch of wild guesses Strung together with long bouts of monotony A spiral labyrinth winding endlessly Round and round and up and down Dizzy and lost Desperate for direction Hopeful for destination Seeking validation