Pour Out Your Soul

"And when at last you find someone to whom you feel you can pour out your soul, you stop in shock at the words you utter— 
they are so rusty, so ugly, so meaningless and feeble from being kept in the small cramped dark inside you so long." 

Breathing

"Eyes are feeling heavy but they never seem to close

The fan blades on the ceiling spin but the air is never cold

And even though you're next to me I still feel so alone

I just can't give you anything for you to call your own

And I can feel you breathing

And it's keeping me awake"

The Coffee (Jillian)

I realized something as important as it is hopeless. 
You can make the perfect cup of coffee, just the right amount of cream and sugar, 
the blend you enjoy, even the temperature and the cup itself. 
But see in the end you are unable to appreciate those things.
For the coffee simply gets cold.

Wake

this day rained, specifically on me. i still grin through coffee stained teeth. was a sinking ship, i say now i'm drained, see? you're reminiscencing on past waves, looking out at our placid sea.

Sultry

"take these lies in the palm of your heart,
they are all that i have, this one box,
that holds my entire life in.
i bring flames of time burn, baby, burn.
my life is on fire, bind my soul as you see fit.
compress the words that i have left from my mouth to silence,
plagiarize my works of almost art,
mimicking your timeless glance into my shorten lifelines
that circle the equator that is you.
i span the world, i scan the world for someone that you cannot replace.
sing me a song, let me know how much you wouldn't care if i disappeared.
the box is yours if you want it.
this one's for courage, this one's for valor.
this one's discouraged by words and commitment,
and told you how i glance at other people
with the same sultry eyes of conceit.
what gives you the right to hold the gates at a distance?
i cannot be matched by persistence nor time.
i trust you more than i trust me,
deceive my blind eyes and trespass to my solemn vow.
i won't make you cry so i can make you feel better,
and i won't cry to make you feel whatever i want to make you feel.
this one's the invitation, a song for me to clear my mind,
melting the ink to form a letter to bond we eternally.
two folded pages of words i can't say with enough conviction
to make you see exactly what i mean.
the cello sings sad longer than my patience.
i hear it on empty streets where my heart beats.
this ghost town has skeletons that i can't see.
my retinas see transparencies, so please tell me, what's wrong?

let me see it through your eyes with no words, just touching,
'cause these words are as tired as the sun's predictable settings.
this one is for determination, this one is for, me.
this one has nothing to do with either of us.
and are you from another time, another place of displacement?
where our souls travel adjacent, and i smile without pretension.
i feel the tension strain upon my hands you left with me,
subject me to social scrutiny for your self-benefit.
i think it's probably best this way,
you and i can never be together anyway,
any place, any time, with masked emotion and more words to decipher.
six-line phrases of stupidity.
this rare photograph shows me as an old man, and i see myself all alone.
all these trinkets got stories i would tell you
but you listen with biased ears and no questions for me.
as my response, an empty box, wide open, and it's yours if you want it."

Bathroom Stalls

The thought of this not working


is so terribly tear jerking


your dry sense of humor is thirst quenching


and your lack of concern is gut wrenching

Guilt

 "Can I get myself back from underneath 
this guilt that will crush me."

Diseased

The monotony of this brings me to my knees, I plead silently without so much as verbalizing "please", 
it's just that my body rejects sleep as if it were a disease.

I Get It Now

Isolated events, that don't make up a story, don't lead up to anything, don't create a, anything. It's fine. And I get that now.

Certain

Positively unsure.

Shudder At The Very

"So you’re waiting, even if you don’t quite know it, waiting for the moment when you realise that you really are different to them; that there are people out there, like Madame, who don’t hate you or wish you any harm, but who nevertheless shudder at the very thought of you."


"It’s a cold moment. It’s like walking past a mirror you’ve walked past every day of your life, and suddenly it shows you something else, something troubling and strange."

Worthless

and i'm both better and worse knowing that everything is nothing and nothing is everything.

Wake Up

Wake Up.
This Still Isn't My Room.

Blah Blah

Public isolation / Blatant solitude.

Selective

SELECTIVE MEMORY.