Scribles in My Notebook:

A sinking feeling.
Tears
that refuse to fall.
Detached from the world.
Just wandering around,
long, long face; dark eyes, so round.

s
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w
h
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a
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A single candle flame, a single flicker
Doused now; it's not there anymore
Nobody's home
again
n
n
n.
.
.

No other life in the room,
in the house. Tiny, tiny room gets tinier every day.
suffocating
no one's in here.
no one ever has been.
just machines to divert.
that is all, all i do.
this cage, fucking reason.
The garden is dead.
Dead. Dead. Dead.
I have no real problems.
Just a damaged head.
It's really nothing, just petty suffering.
Why
am I so
pathetic. really.
The tree branches crackle, like a final boss stage.
Purple fucking sky. Goddamn bushes.
Oh, look at me, I am loved because I curse, because I smoke, because I sniff; isn't that hardcore?
I dye my hair like trailer trash, ridiculous eyeliner like I just learned how to use it.
aeropostale shirt, giant godamn sweatpants, boyfriend's jacket, giant cheap ring.
im blank, i follow your ideas. i agree with whatever in contradicting reason.
ha ha, unquestioned faith. you're ridiculous mind, ridiculous.

You're home alone,
Or your parents are sleeping,
and your brother is out,
and you're friends can't talk now
or don't answer their phones.
Tiny breaths, tiny, shaking, and white. dusty.
everything. stuck in the past.
Falling out
for a moment,
a very, very long breath.
You can't sleep.
Clutch your head,
you pathetic wretch.
no reason to.
no reason at all.
no reason.
stop playing it up.
stop crying.
stop.
stop making excuses.
you're not worth a dime.
Write those words in blood,
carve them onto flesh, just to see them.
Wishes: IT'LL BE ALRIGHT,
and scraps of words: tired, sad, find me..., i want to go, ...allegro agitato...
Getting older.
Your body
becoming stiff, shrinking and wilting.
Alone, forgetting to blink.
Not caring.
A roaring headache that you made up.
Losing my structure.
song lyrics, because i can't write my own.
polar bears keep me warm
in the lost penguin winter.
notes, notes, notes, margin.
where does all that pointlessness lead you?
to more work. more money, but so much goddamn work.
according to a book that i read in sixth grade,
dolphin's songs last for hours,
like me, like this thing.
nothing better to do, there never is.
being redundant.
repeating myself.
constant loop.
repeat: one.
sleep: 30 mins.
all songs.
scroll.
play and close eyes.
repeat.

Fall asleep without realizing it.
dream a ludicrous dream, and wake up.
hope and mild humor get crushed by mom's yelling,
by long, droning hours
of silence.
by the time you see your friends
youve already faded out of the day.
just go home and sleep.
----------------

Cloudy Daydream Wishes

A pastel, washed-out bunny rabbit
walking along the shore.

Long ears have fallen now, gentle ears, trailing lightly across the sand.
The absence of nothingness, but the lack of substance. The water washes on her paws.

The air isn't salty. There is no wind, no uncomfortable breeze, no disagreeable smell.
No squawking of birds. This place is not unpleasant. The clouds are not dreary, but comforting...

It is morning, a very soft morning. But yet, it is lacking something. The day stretched thin.
She feels a stirring in her chest, but does not know why.

She longs for... what is it that she longs for? What is she searching for?
She does not know. A stranger in her own heart. But she collects her scattered thoughts to wish for... to wish.

She turns her head to the horizon. White against dull blue.
She can see a place across the sea. Far off. ...Perhaps she could go there someday.

Perhaps it is warm there, perhaps, perhaps... Perhaps it is sunny and defined.
Perhaps it is bright there. Perhaps she can smile, pouring out colors like a spectrum.

Perhaps it is a good place. Not perfect, but normal.
This is what she wishes for...

Make plans to build a boat. Distant and hopeless plans.

Scuffed knees, dirty face.
Hug them close to your chest.
Body shivering under your cloak.
Eyes seem squinted from crying all day.
Red cheeks and dried tears are the remnants of feeling.

You've made your decision.

Back against the hard brick wall, in the alley.
Reach into your pocket and grab salvation.
Trembling hands hold the tiny pills,
Bittersweet salvation; can you reach it?

You once were a person, but now you're just this.
You once wore a smile, but now you wear static.
You don't deserve pity, yet you pity yourself.
A loathsome creature.
You took it all for granted.
No one left to care for you now...
No reason to stay.

Close your eyes, steel yourself.
Take a deep breath.
Swallow.

Unfinished

The soft gray light
casts upon the unlit room.
An almost eerie silver
lines the windowsills and washes on the rooftops,
fills the scenery with its numbing tinge; spreads out like sunbeams.
Watery green drips, the vines
snake around this endless place, creates substance; the trunks of trees. Fills the scene.
A dark mass is the sum of this lonesome world,
the addends are senseless.

Giving Up

She's picturesque perfect,
a red-headed angel.
She is good company,
can make people smile.
She is admirable, she is a socialite.
She is beautiful.
You must really love her.

I could never compete with her;
I don't know why I even try.
I am not beautiful, not particularly well-liked or special.
I am not a nothing, but I am awfully close.
I don't deserve you.
She deserves the moon.

I must force down the fluttering in my heart,
I must swallow this feeling.

Because if the shadows around me amount to a darkness,
that I could fall into at any moment, like a canyon,
then I couldn't handle the collateral pain,
no matter how childish.
No matter how stupid.

You are Dearly Loved

A flighty, breezy late-spring day
in which the air is warm and moves right through you.
You can feel the drum of your heart beating,
you can hear the sound of your lungs filling
with air and breathing in and out; a comforting rhythm.

Never have you ever opened your eyes so wide;
never have you been so alive,
running through the sunny street
in your little white dress and large sun hat.

You belong here to make me feel less alone
to take up space in this spacious home,
and the people you love nod towards you, check on you,
Their bodies bobbing in and out of the rooms, like felines.

The typed words carrying through the phone,
the short recordings playing just for you...
a momentary lapse in time means nothing;
we are system of smiles turning towards you, we love you.

We love you, we love you,
just know that we love you.

Mirror Observation

She is sickly, she is sad.
Her attempts at normalcy are all but feigned.
She lies to herself, she tells herself a fairytale
so that she may perhaps sleep through the night.
Her smile is a facade; her pain is endured alone,
and she chases a shadow she can never grasp, never reach, never catch.
Her eyes are insincere, her reassurances mean nothing, and her voice is inaudibly trembling.
Her life is a joke, her fate is a tragic comedy, her words are blasphemy.

Over the years, her bones have sunken into silence; she has submitted herself to the irrefutable, inescapable truth.
She sits on the patio on a cloudy, humid Sunday.
Where are you, dearest? Where did you go? is carried on the nonexistent breeze...
If she could feel that person's touch, then surely, it would all be okay.