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@andzrew
Clockwork
Before me and before you
Before that and this
Before them
Before these and those
Before the comedown
Before self-loathing was a joint venture Before yearning faded into apathy
When aloofness was a playful tease
Not a way out
Before we gained a reluctance for truth
Before the melding of manic nights
When eyes were warm and hands were eager
Before we gave weight to expectations and replaced possibility with knowing
That must be the place
idle hands
Obsessive.
Compulsive.
Entirely disorderly.
I do what I can to make the intrusive thoughts comfortable
Paralyzed by an aggressive uncertainty
of everything
or anything
or nothing
What’s left to lose should warrant more effort than none
Still, even with that
The consequence of an empty tomorrow isn’t heavy enough to keep me from myself
“Nobody realizes that some people expend a tremendous energy trying to be normal.”
— Albert Camus
Lammas
Goodbye, I’ll see
you soon! We both
know that’s a lie.
Give a brief hug -
try not to think
about winter.
-acklum
I woke up this morning to realize I didn’t want to see the sun today
“It’s interesting how something that comes so easily to one person can be so impossible for someone else.”
— Susane Colasanti, So Much Closer
Nature’s Fridge
What flavor?
Rasberry
For now
Conversation is next
Useless banter at first but a foot in the door is exactly that
What flavors next?
A closed door or an invitation for more?
If I saw you later is it because I asked?
When I see you later can you shut me down?
Humility will stop this spiral and I hope you paint me in it.
Tinnitus
Explosions cease but the ash never settles.
The road ahead is littered with clues of the past,
You couldn’t think straight if you tried your fucking hardest.
Stop.
Stop trying.
Lie in it.
You did this.
YOU did this.
Don’t burn the bridge,
please just wait.
The question plays over and over
What am I running from?
Feeble attempts to erase past mistakes from my mind at every waking
Life plays and I watch
Wishing they didn’t
Hoping they won’t
I’m not running from anything
I’m running towards the end
Are you sure it’s not a race?
I built this mountain to get away
The isolation providing refuge from the walking mirrors below
Burning bridges to keep them at bay
Every face a reflection of the resentment I hold for myself
Projection reigns as authority while the enemy sits within the gate
Would I still be mad if I could see pass myself?
Who’s really to blame
If there’s any to be had at all
I think it’s time to come down
I pull the words from people's mouths so they agree with themselves when I speak.
And its through this that I've strung my web of comfort,
in which no member is true and each their own heretic.
Substance flows organically