afraid.

Knocking on the door, and I know I’ve felt like this before. This road led to an impasse, all I had, but that’s all gone. What has gotten into you? Maybe I never knew, maybe we never do.

I can’t hurt you from here—I can only hurt myself.

This coffee is stale, or maybe it’s my mood, does it really matter to you? Mine is the oil contrasting the ocean—black out the rest of the world. What has gotten into you? Maybe I never knew, maybe we never do.

Bleeding hearts of every color. Until the pain makes room for more.

I’m afraid. Afraid to go anywhere, to do anything. Outside I hear people move, from place to place, town to town. So you think I’m cool as shit, when I’m losing it, and I’m done with this. No more appeal, throwing shade on all that’s real. I will make this place my home.

Uncomfortably until I’m numb. Comfortable, and then I’m done.

Trivia (dad’s day)

I’m getting used to feeling this way and choosing to feel nothing at all…

Passing offensive fodder through your skull,
it makes me sad when I think about us.
Dad, I don’t know you- it’s not like I don’t care,
the broken spiderweb,
mayflies torn of wings, left to die,
and the flow interrupted by the ebb
If your ears syphon it in and exhale,
it only ends up pressure in my head– a burden I don’t need,
and definitely don’t want,
tripping over mountains- we couldn’t scale from one side to the other.
We weren’t meant to understand what life is like without.
This nonsensical twisted lingual stretched to capacity
the nerve of me as an individual, and the audacity
my raw nerve and the nerve endings, folding in on themselves.

Just tell me you love me and let go of yourself
your old self, and the scattered ideas that shift and inseminate the open air,
where people who once cared,
can’t be forced to be anywhere near.