the seventeenth.

do i regret it?
i'm not sure.
but i couldn't continue on feeling
so heavy, so obscure.
you'll get so many papercuts
if you close your eyes like that,
but maybe it'll pass the time quicker
and drag the cosmos even further out of line.
mahh--haa.
let me take your spirit
and bring it back to mine.
let me say i'm sorry one more time.

lightness

this is the weight i carry.

my hands are shaking,
and the nerves in my stomach are making my
eyes close.
they make my heart skip beats,
sometimes for several minutes at a time,
and in my throat, there is a constant knot
that makes it hard to tell you the truth.
even when i spoke to her,
and spilled my heart,
i could have been telling her the most honest truth
i've ever said aloud,
she still would have slept.
sometimes my forehead bleeds from how hard i rub it.

'death of the heart is the worst kind there is.'
my heart is becoming black,
filled with smoke and detaching itself
from the rest of me.
'come back and keep hope alive,
come and change everything.'

i don't feel you anymore;
nor him, nor her, nor anything.
except for a deep aching that originates in my bones
and works its way through
to show in my eyes,
but i never blink.
i need to be the feather in my hair,
and the balloon in the sky,
and the salt in the wind.
this is why,
i
can't
see
you
again
.

when you love someone but it goes to waste, could it be worse?

le poisson francais

i thought i saw a goldfish today
swimming in my 1.5 liter water bottle.
and when he turned and looked at me directly,
i know it was him that made me remember
'il l'aime'.
so i poured the water down the drain,
and filled it up with something new.

i don't know how i can talk to you
when all i want to do is
drive in my car with the music too loud
screaming at the top of my lungs

are you suffocating yet?

tonight i wore my favorite green jacket with
a grey shirt underneath.
but she has him, and he has her, and she always had him
so what was the point?


at 7:59 today
i realized i am meursault.
it's lose-lose, and i'm becoming to tired to put forth the energy to care.
but he put forth the effort,
on tuesday night, even if all he wanted to do
was sit and stare.
but it went further than that
and all i can do now is throw up,
or have the urge to.
what's the difference between tiny crushed up pieces of the sky
and your eyes?