The end of the week
Is already here.
I’ve been waiting
Ahead of time.

The days no longer try
To hide.
I know.

There is now
No distinction
Between them.
The scales from my eyes
Have been removed.

This is all one
Continuum,
But one day
I will end.

Advertisements

It’s raining outside and I’ve never seen anything more reflective of my insides.
I still call them that, because I’m not sure I believe in souls, so I can’t say I have one.

It’s really fall now. Leaves have finally started decorating the concrete.
Nature in the midst of buildings. One jungle inside another.

There’s music playing on my laptop. I’ve never heard the song, but it’s beautiful.

The kind of beautiful I want to be when I grow up. The kind I can point to and say “puberty did that”.

But high heels and rain don’t go together. Neither does this new song with my mood.

Skip.

This one is okay. The tempo is a bit too quick, but I’ll leave it.

There’s purple near the ground and a colour like turmeric still hanging on to the limbs.

I hate when people stop outside the door. It makes me nervous. They can turn around and see me at any minute. I don’t want to be seen – not by them. I’m not ready.

It’s been raining for days, so I haven’t been able to wear my new sneakers. The running shoes I bought so I wouldn’t have an excuse, but that I’ve only used twice. I’ve decided to just wear them now. No sense in wasting a perfectly good pair of shoes.

A perfectly good life. A perfectly good day. Except is there any such thing? Was there ever any such thing?

To combat low self esteem you should look your best at all times.

Yeah – because that definitely works.

Because breathing is all I can do, I exhale and inhale through my tears, forcing myself not to think because combining problems won’t fix any of them and let’s not make this cry about everything wrong in my life. She is gone. It is unbelievable, but she is. And you did get lost today because you didn’t get enough sleep and you felt like a failure and you wanted attention from somewhere and couldn’t get it. Because the internet is not a person and notifications aren’t hugs.

It is okay that you forgot your class, because messing up five percent of your grade will not prove detrimental to your future or your well-being. You feel like you can’t keep track of everything at work, but it’s not your fault the office is understaffed and you are human. Please don’t beat yourself up.

She is gone, my love. And she loved you while she was here with all she had. Do the same, to yourself.

Please.

Love your body. It is the only one you have.

Floating on Emptiness

I pound against the doors of time
And beg them to release me.
Why did they lock me in here
When did they lock me in here
When will I be let go

Into the darkness
From whence I came –
Free from memories
And want
And love
And hurt
And desperation.

I float on my emptiness
And wait to be swallowed up
By this great vacancy
Which I’ve been allowed to occupy.

I wrestle with my ambitions
And my knowledge
And I fight and give up
Side by side.

“What’s the use?”
I ask myself.
“There will be nothing
When this is over
The same way there was nothing before.”

I release my breath
And sink into myself.
“Endure,” I say
“It will all be over soon.”

Awake

It’s death again, and my life, and what I’m to do with it. My long distance relationship and when and how I’ll find out what love is. How long I’ll live. How long my father will live. How things were before I was here. How they will change after. Why I was even born in the first place. Why I am being made to deal with this. Why there isn’t forever. Whether or not there really is anything afterwards. 

It’s 3:47 am and I’m awake thinking about these things, the same way I do any other time I’m awake. 

Fulfillment, success, happiness. Will I be one of the lucky ones who get to have these things? Or will I be one of the sad ones who never figure anything out, spending their whole lives searching for answers only to not find anything at all?

How many more years until I come to any sort of conclusion? 

Before I Move

 

I wonder how long
It will be
Till I get tired
Of sitting in hopes
And maybe’s
And if’s,
Looking at everyone else
Live
And wondering
How to do it myself

How long
Before I abandon
My efforts
Towards creating a plan
And simply
Move

With the feeling
That pushes me
The vibration
That pulls me

How long before I stop
Telling myself
That I can’t
Because I’m not strong
Or extraordinary

How long before I realise
That I don’t need to be
Either of the two

How long before I stop standing
Before I stop lying down
Before I stop sitting
In anxious impatience

How long before I move

15 Hours Before Now

Sometimes I remember again.

The thought enters my mind
and I hold on to it
instead of allowing it to pass.

For a second,
maybe three,
time speeds across my eyes.

My heart sinks.
It feels as if someone has tugged hard
on a string attached to it,
the way a truck driver would
sound his horn.

My body follows suit, quickly descending
as if it is being pulled into a well of water,
but just before my nostrils
go beneath the surface

I stop.

I mentally shake my head.
I throw the thought away.
I have to,
otherwise this paralysing fear
will spread through my being.

I release the breath
I had sucked in
three seconds before.

I sit upright.
I take another breath
and release it.

This is unproductive.
It will do me no good.
I will eventually die.
I don’t know when.
I cannot change this.
I will never be able to.

Continue to breathe.
Leave death alone.
It will come in due time.

Do not ask questions.
There is no one to tell you
why you were put here.

For now go home and sleep.
You have a long day tomorrow.