How I’m Living
I miss the past,
And I’m scared of the future.
I’ve had so many highs, and so many lows.
I’m afraid to try to be happy,
Cause it might crash back to depression,
But I’m afraid of letting myself feel lonely,
Cause what if joy was right in front of me while I help my head down.
I’ve had so many highs and so many lows that I don’t know how to feel.
So I guess I’ll just feel numb.
this one doesn’t have a title.. oh wait
roaming bodies observe their surroundings
beautiful, perfect, whole.
riding inside them are minds that are hopeful
that the bodies are actually meaningful
lovely little universes expressing information
repeating what they see and making something unique with it
and they can love each other, wow.
and they can hate themselves
and they can see the world as twisted
or as the beautiful mess that it is
and they can look down to the ground and follow preset "rules"
or they can roam uncaring finding meaning in the search for it
or they can spend a whole life waiting for something to happen.
beautiful bodies designed to be perfect,
billions of individuals
unaware of the whole they're apart of
making messes just to clean them
staying busy, working, sleeping
i'm one of 'em
and i don't know how i feel about it.
how on earth is it even possible
for a thing to hate itself?
as if by looking at a mirror
the mind decides it should do better
even though it is not seeing
what it thinks it is.
we only see our bodies
there should be self to witness,
even though you think there is,
noticing the difference, feels almost like
trancendence, but that's not really what it is
that shit will rock your world, man.
We Lost Her In June
In the middle of summer, an email was sent out to the entire school.
It was short, a single paragraph of news, but after it was read, it hurt.
She sat across from me- bright smiles, strong opinions, stubborn and terribly outgoing.
The first friend that I had ever lost.
She would always be more adventerous than me, had a small tattoo on her stomach with plans on getting another, spent a weekend drinking vodka just to see how drunk she could get.
And she was kind.
We would talk sometimes, about relationships and family, dreams to go to college soon, how she wanted to go but didn't feel comfortable leaving her younger sister with their abusive father.
How she felt selfish.
And once, she told me she left her house through the window when she couldn't take it anymore, said it felt free.
Sometimes I will think
About the email that was sent out.
It said that she had died.
And to this day, I'm too scared to ask how.