i feel nothing

gut fucked,
a new sort of breathing,
a sigh of relief
and all the lines are blurred again.
a shallow grave
and deepest secrets are being tossed in.
and this whole scene has been a long time coming.
it's the cold feet that get me
really,
it's the rejection that has stopped hurting
that makes this even worse.
it's the melancholia that burns my bones
and makes my heart-ache.
it's the act of accepting everything
for how it is
that gets me everytime.
and the sheep in the field look like the softest clouds
to lay on and make
for myself
a home in the sky.
i'd invite you but you wouldn't like it much.
and everytime i sit at this table i get bitter.
and everytime i read the pages i feel it.
and everytime i start typing these words i hate myself a little more.
and this is bigger than me.
and i can't stand it.

let it fall.

ashes to ashes,
we rain, progress! progress!
but you're no tide
and there's already water
over the bridge
i thought you could be my
life raft/some solid ground
but the holes are many
and i keep searching for
clarity,
some sort of soft resolution.
but you're not the sun
and you're not the april showers
falling from the bottoms of cotton clouds
and i will not sing in
your damn, rainy-day parade.
and i refuse to be seen as my own hangman.
but sometimes there's this loneliness
that makes it feel that i'm the only
one on an iceberg.
and you're no patch of green grass
to lay down and die on.
and you're no sense at all,
no sad, happy, or confused.
but you're still the song,
i'm just not singing anymore.

sometimes,

words can't explain what i want to say.
and that's why i hate words, and sentences, and
knowing that i can't have what i want.
and words will never be able to explain the hopelessness i feel right now.

i've been

tearing myself up for days on end
and i finally brought myself to tell you
and i've faced my greatest fear,
only to find out that it's not as much of an accomplishment
as i thought it may be.
now i'm lying on my back
watching the ceiling fan spin and tell me to wake
up
before this passes by and i swear sweet words
under my breath hoping
that they'll catch your ear
and you'll be in love with
me the way
that i'm in love with you.
and the way you smile
and the way you laugh
and the way that i can't say what i want when i'm around you.
and i'm sorry if i ruined your day
but i couldn't help myself,
remember dear,
i'm nothing but an animal,
a red breasted bird
boasting about my great self
and you
you.
you.
and i'm lost again
in an overwhelming sea of self-loathing
and self pity
self-awareness
and selfishness.
and all i want is for you to be able to finish all my sentences.

today's

a good day to flex the muscles of the weary,
a miracle's a miracle
even if it's ordinary.
and we'll walk on the water
even though it seems scary
depending on what you look through...

so today was an excellent day.
reasons why:
library
emma goldman
i have a friend
against me!
long ass walk.

and now there's a random girl puking outside my door.


also maura said she wanted to be mentioned in my blog. so there it is.

process.

my lips are chapped for the first time in two years
and i have a fire in my belly
it's that nervous
anticipation,
and it's creeking, calling,
singing,
telling me that everything will
be okay
and everything will be just fine.
there's this painted piece of wood
and it's staring me in the eyes
telling me that i should do it
maybe I will
maybe i'll do it.
but you're fast asleep
as your days are whipping by
and blowing your hair into your face.
and i can't bring myself to tell you again
that you need
to wake up.
because everything is okay.
everything
is okay.
so patience.
progress; progress.
a constant change of pace
let yourself climb.
and a voice is calling
my name
from the hallway.
an unfamiliar recognition.
progress=progress
i'm going
i'm going to do it.

tentacle tongued serpents,

this is what i feel like lately,