i keep my ashtray
on the cold side of the bed
where no one will sleep

*

stand up and clean yourself off
there are things to be done
in this life, on this day
you have work to do
i can't, i'm trying
i don't know how
i don't know how to do anything

would you rather be sitting there
crying to and over yourself
looking around to see if anyone
notices how weak you are
no, i'd rather be catatonic
i'd rather live alone
so as to not subject others
to who i am
so that no one will take to time
to figure me out
and realize what i waste i was

the rational side never wins
that's too bad sometimes
my irrational side will be the death of me,
very literally
you can try and step back from both,
but you'll only realize
that you have no idea
who you are or why you're crying

*

i don't know what's wrong with me
i can't make sense of anything
i've lost the comfort of living
and i'm pretty sure everyone thinks
i'm ridiculous,
which is fine. i believe them.
and i'm sorry to all.
i wish there were something i could do.
i've determined i'm my only help.
i'm so sorry- i'm so sorry.
i've tried so hard
you'd never know how hard i've tried.
everyday i say to myself
all the things i can
to make it
i've forced myself
but i'm tired now.
i feel i've run out of options
maybe i haven't
but i've lost the drive to look.
all i want is rest
but my back aches from sleeping
i've tried really hard, i have.
more that you could ever know.
but i am so tired.
i don't want this.
and i don't want to subject it
to anyone anymore.

*

witnessing myself in tears
brings to mind my mothers face
i see hers in mine and
recall the childhood instances
when i was introduced,
confused and taken aback by
recognizing the absolute
frailties of the human spirit,
the actualities of life,
the true existence of sorrow
and the honest pain of grief.
realizing that age brings no
security or solace.

*

emotions come and go quickly
i can never tell when to take them
seriously- positively- negatively.
they just flutter in and take over
on the days i don't have the capacity
to put them in captivity
to cage and consider these dangerous birds,
make them the flightless,
they carry me away on white strings
either up to clouds, into rain
or drop me in the nearest ditch
to soak in sewage.
they are the ravens
that pull upon the heart strings
and very willingly carry me along
throughout the wet winter months
while i frantically float in midair
fearing the instances in which the decide
to let go.

*

looked nice- she looked real nice
all skin tone
and glossy, painted eyes
i may have meant glassy
her lips appearing swollen
i wish i could forget that face
and that we ever breathed
in such close proximity
the same air passed
through both our lungs practically
you have the attentive gaze still
and i think of all the words that dropped
before they reached your ears
every important thought
that everyone forgot i said.

*

sometimes i just go absolutely mad with sadness and i lose every ounce of rational thought and attempting to retrieve it only brings about more feelings of insanity i don't feel crazy-no not literally insane just so intensely off base that i lose it and i don't even know what :it: is but regardless it's gone and i feel so bad about it i feel so shamed by it so guilty i feel like a wretched person like people don't know me anymore and i don't know myself,
*







that was all yesterday, and today is today. let's go fail some bio, because i couldn't resist the satisfaction of writing, instead of the alternate, unfavorable studying. that poem about the birds is for kelly.



= all these words must have some meaning . .