Everybody dies; harsh as a truth. Sooner, later, tomorrow, next year, even if it takes 40 more. I know we take it lightly, serious only when thought throughly. Still, why bother pretend to care of those dead when you never bothered when they were alive? If you never had when they were around, why mourn and weep over what's gone. It seemed trivial before, why act as if it never was? What a bunch of ungrateful hypocrites. That's how we see whose lost it is. Odd, how we get a sense of aggravation when nothing's felt as if it should come naturally which it does, most times to most people just perhaps, not them, not us- we never gave a damn so put up a front as if no one could tell. Guess we're just never ending question marks and contradictory statements.
Suddenly you need to go, you need to run.
You need your shrink, you need some pills.
A few cigarettes, a week off, lights off, stay closed.
You need to jump, crawl into a ball, binge and purge,
starve yourself, punch your face, drown yourself.
Kill yourself kill yourself kill yourself kill yourself kill your-
It's not a bad life, just a bad mind.
Take a step back, start again.
One day I might just finally get to meet him and figure it all out; get to know who he even is. Literally the guy of my dreams. The one that's been in it often, at times unnoticed until I wake up the next day or the next time he appears. All these feelings, I wonder who he might be, why me and when, where, at which point in my life will he be there?
I don't want to be left placeless in what is no longer a part of me.
What use it to open up to people just to see them leave with all the pieces of you, you let them into? Some days you meet someone completely new and just click, sometimes even feel safe enough to become vulnerable to and you're going to tell them almost everything at just the first conversation as if they've always known you. You're going to meet them again to spill out even more. Though it's bloody hilarious isn't it, that you would never again get to. Like a sick joke.
I don't always mind, I forget myself. With hopes that they too, do. If it were in my ability, I'd take back away from anyone who left, every piece of me, every memory, every secret, every story I shared. Let them be clueless, ignorant- let them forget because it wouldn't even matter. I honestly hate to think that anyone remembers any details of me. It gets me feeling sick enough to wish to die and be reborn as a completely different person, in another life. Some moments I don't hope to be a part of anyone or anything, I don't enjoy people knowing if they're not staying. I still have hope that to some, it all vanishes without a trace from the back of their mind.
It's a shame to meet someone true and let them know things,
Bound to happen sooner or later, no surprise here. I saw it coming. I felt it, thought I was exaggerating. Is this still my mind talking, does it not make sense? Can't seem to have a touch of home anywhere, at least not for long or only to an extent.
It gets so phony, sickening. Every way out gets me locked up into another box, every person's just the same- or is it just, me? You think you'll find something new when you change your ways, if you become brave but it's always the same- not much would change.
So where do I go next? Where is there left to go and which way is right anymore? How many steps back, how many more forward? If everything's alright, why do these moments come by just as often. Lights on, back off, now the suns up, next it's midnight. Out of sight still in mind, out of my mind, it comes to sight. Nothing leaves, nothing goes, nothing nothing but what's physical.