it falls when you’re not watching
it will float there when you do
all wrong and pointless
vast chasms between interactions
interactions that matter
that mean something to you
pain in the drop
rolling slowly in the chasms
prime real estate
for a connection to be built
fewer bonds forged with age
fewer still when pinned down
the echo of thought in the chasms
it is a boring sensation
echoes and thoughts and interests
and echoes of thought
either repeat to fade again
or to die in your ear
endless ebbs a snaking a drowning
drained waiting undead
hopeful cords break my fall sometimes
a cold empty space in every room
the other they fear to converse with
some other variety of gloom
haunted by a homeless question mark
punctuation and grammar misplaced
a mismatch of tone and narrative
it aches all the time
soft cold air drifting down hard heavy
aimless pressure at winter dusk
the stationary feels heavy in my hand
rotting leaves rotting petals
branches out to catch and molest
bearing thorns waiting in dark
whispering on my neck we hate you
a poisoned kiss placed on nape
cliches in the dark as i walk home
My personality is shambolic,
I could cry at nothing right now.
A desperate need for something
to capture my imagination,
I’m hopelessly doubting everything
and I’m stuck in an otherworldly sense
of constant distraction.
Make everything dreamy I say to myself.
Please tell me a story.
You are a mule,
a quiet creature,
an honest, hard worker,
a soft touch.
People gather around you,
it’s all fun and games at first,
Slowly one by one
they start hanging their junk on you,
piling it up on your back
and hanging around your neck.
You buckle slightly,
you stay strong,
they proceed cautiously.
Whether it’s an accidental knock
or simply not being able to cope any more,
you violently throw your limbs in the air,
trying to throw all the pressure off you.
It’s a sudden gesture
that takes them by surprise
and it doesn’t really looking like anything
other than crazy.