Simple

You want what’s easy,

never worked or grown,

life is too short you think,

to make any effort at all.

you looked at the water,

dipped a toe in and pretended to swim,

told stories of commitment,

you never committed to at all.

what’s below the surface?

you’ve never cared to find out,

just scan quickly and flee,

So you’ll never have to doubt,

who you are or what,

questions ask too much.

just stay on the surface,

where you’re safe, it’s scary beneath,

and imagine you’ve tried,

while you stay right where you were.

 

 

 

Simple

The end

I honestly can’t believe you did this to me,

it seems your goal was to make me cry,

just to prove you can,

to show your power,

to bring in and reject,

and destroy.

You came to eat away the layers,

in attempt to find meaning,

but left just as quickly,

unconcerned for me.

it was so easy for you.

i wonder what it’s like,

to throw things away so easily,

and act without remorse,

or consideration.

that I might be human.

The end

The Sun

So it goes,

I repeat to myself,

Every morning when my eyes don’t want to open.

I imagine what infinity might look like.

Or what eternity might feel like.

And I wish for one less second.

Earth’s orbit speeds up,

The year ends,

The world resets.

Or the past saves me from the future.

 

I touch connections that break down.

They were weak and unused.

Instead, I follow melodies in my mind,

To color pictures I draw,

Replacing memories with scenes,

And lines I didn’t write.

I want to steal from you.

I want to steal all of you.

I want to destroy myself.

 

The Sun

Mistaken

When I was seven I started writing about myself,

I’ve been on the look an identity ever since.

I learned my name and decided that it meant something.

I made assumptions.

there should be answers.

I need a place to exist,

i want to the world to acknowledge me,

or I’ll feel this small and temporary forever.

and I know I’m small and temporary,

and I won’t live forever.

Mistaken

Odd

I started walking when i couldn’t find where I began,

then called it home wherever I settled down.

I found I’m fluid when I couldn’t keep a certain shape,

I’m curved or crooked or broken,

whichever you prefer.

 

I study definitions to try to locate mine,

a sense of self I lost when I left my childhood behind.

There’s a child missing in me.

I’m trying to find the man,

but he’s not visible in how I think and act and am.

 

I wonder what you’d call me.

I think of the past and remember what you called me.

But now it’s me calling out,

There are no words.

 

 

Odd