i died tonight. again.
this is just me grasping at straws
but fuck- did you feel that?
electricity pumps through my veins, “keep me alive”, i say
as i choke on knifes and cigarettes and galleries of submission,
but i’ll wear that smile even if it tires me out.
i tried telling you how the skin you’re in is all soft now.
my breath, warm, drugged and trembling
me, craving your touch
you, half a moon of drowning colors
but this morning, time stopped.
and i kept thinking about how i can’t be thinking this
and as i say this, i’m not thinking about how
i can’t seem to shake off the feeling of being watched.
as i type this in, i’m thinking- what if it’s some sort of goodbyee
and i think about how rude someone must be to
break a heart.
i think about how sad it is to fall in love with someone
read about things that may or may not matter,
it’s not necessarily a bad thing to represent your thoughts
you know all about disruption, I mean when you count the world as a whole,
like as a precautionary measure for when there’s nothing that can go wrong,
because everything already is.
anyway, today you wasted a lot of time (yet again),
trying to make me feel better about being me.
you said “it’s okay. i really don’t mind you doing this,
your mind is fascination and I want to discover.
it’s okay. we’re talking, don’t stop”
but i don’t know what that means, and you don’t either,
but you shouldn’t stay up talking to someone so dead.
the threat of torture is torture- torture.
i wake up each night, forgetting where i kept my heart
forgetting why i need to make this a movie, make it all mean something,
because it makes for better poems.
i call this one alchemy. i call all of them alchemy.
i write a lot about the tragedy my life is,
you write about the wonder-spark i am in yours.
and you put all the complicated in me
in poems more beautiful than sunrises, just vague enough to describe me.
I love twists in meaning.
I say that too much.