We’ve known each other for some time.
Some times I’m more fond of you than others.
But a few mornings ago might of been my favorite memory of you yet.
I still remember many of the times you’ve complemented me.
The other words I forget.
I’ve seen you cry and held your hands.
I know you’ve loved everyone except for me.
I am a friend to you, I hope that that’s still clear.
But we are just as lost as each other.
Maybe that’s just a sickness making us sicker.
But this town is so much less fun when you’re not around.
I wonder if you look back upon yourself as I look back upon the life I’ve seen.
Colors of the trees met with persistence and dedication.
Blue eyes and a brazen tongue, you are one of my favorite people.
When you return from the mountains you listen and my voice seems bolder.
My words are met with your remarks.
I like to speak to you.
Hands burning of lust
I wonder how far I can wander
Focused on your every move
We sit in my room as the rest falls away
Your eyes locked on mine
I allow myself to lean into you
It’s unexpected- the kiss
Until it’s routine again
I am kissing. Is this ok?
I am climbing. I am pushing farther.
It’s okay. I think to myself. It’s okay to be free. Be wild. Be however.
Extasy to my fingertips flowing into you-
I am so in love with this.
Thoughts evade my actions and we are sinking deeper into the realm of touch
Fingers boldly exploring.
Crossing the lines of female and male, using our bodies for what they are made to do.
Create with me?
The act of it should be nothing short of bliss
Yet it is.
More? I ask myself, as I will for more.
Until it is nothing again.
What is missing? What is still missing?
I demand silently.
He looks me in the eye.
Why the fuck are your eyes so open?
Your human form against my human form.
Cuddling so naked.
Surges of love overpower reality.
Can touch be so synonymous that this is how I suddenly feel?
He’s my roommate.
This life will be short. I’ll exist and then I won’t. So very few of us make any dent that outlasts our own breaths. The highest suicide rate is among men in their 50s. It’s 19%.
I imagine my mirror image at that age. You have less than half your life left. You look back at the decisions you’ve made and wonder. Was it worth it? Did I choose the right path? And the truth of monotony and normalcy runs like a current. We are nothing unless we are something.
But then again, to some degree that contradicts many spiritual teachings. What is self-realization?
I have been awake every day for 22 years, but have I ever really been awake?
I’ve never been in a point in my life where I have as much free time as I have right now. I feel that I’ve been as low as I am right now before. No matter how busy I was, I fought this internal chaos. But now… I feel that it’s all I surround myself with. I have graduated from college. I have traveled the world. Now I’m back in Arcata but feel frozen. I am not even applying to jobs. But every morning I wake up and think about how lazy and awful I am, and stare at the ceiling for hours. Yesterday I didn’t get out of bed until nearly 5 pm. It was hell. Does anyone else out there experience the darkness that I do?
I’m not in a war torn area. I was born privileged. I have had color in my memories. I have meaningful friendships and am surrounded by positive people. Yet I still find myself in this haze. It’s manifests in silence some days, in rage others. But I only face it when I am alone. When I am with people I play a version of myself where this darkness does not exist. I wonder if anyone notices how sad I am?
The decisions that I have made up to this point have brought me here. I’ve had little forward thinking and cannot afford to waste any more time. I need to capitalize on my youth, my time, my skills… I should be doing all that’s in my power to swing a gig in Arcata right now, and hopefully will move to Seattle in due time for graduate school. But will I ever apply? Will I ever make something of this life?
Walking into a room of sunshine
Light pouring over my mood
I forget I was ever sad.
A home of friends
A neighbor playing guitar on his porch
Flying foam and crisp beaches
We are all wizards here
Home of Arcata
I am so in love with you.
Asleep with my eyes open.
Barred by the pain
I am imprisoned in my bed.
Laying still hoping the days pass
Or this body sentence will end.
I am so alone.
I am reminded by the words that she fills my lips with.
I cannot remember a time when I didn’t fantasize about dying.
It seems so much better than to live.
IBprofen doses make my mind foggy.
Google searches include “lethal dose”
“I took a whole bottle and it didn’t work” A reddit user confessed.
That would only be 52.
You’d need to have 5 bottles handy.
Mistakes just cause stomach bleeding.
I want to die so badly.
I have hated everyone who’s ever loved me.
I have no passions. no goals. no desires.
I traveled the world,
but all I felt was the same- consumed by my sadness.
No borders allowed me to escape the familiar screaming inside.
Looking off the edge of buildings wondering if I was brave enough to jump.
I want to die so badly.
How horrible and selfish and lazy.
To destroy those who have invested so fully into you.
To run away from living.
The leaves don’t fall
But I do.
A world of walking,
Is met with a room.
January- this time of new starts and reflection.
Where was I supposed to be by now?
Lost in ambitions and ambiguity,
January sits on me.
Like an unfortunate cloud dropping in on your Himalayan trek.
Colored with lessons I cannot yet see.
I am in January.
Thoughts of where I should be, and where I haven’t gone,
rattle my mind to the point where I sink deeper in the covers,
and hit play on youtube one more time.
Distractions to drown out the goals.
Distractions to drown the fucking broken leg.
Drown out the pain.
Hide what you’ve been thinking.
January is either a time to reflect or a time to banish the past.
“I am not who I was yesterday.” He says on January 1st.
Reflection replaced with selective amnesia.
“Do not forget me!” My leg seems to scream.
But “shoulds” are met with “should haves”
and what I have not done continues to haunt me.
The war with myself
January is a time to reflect.
I think of all the places I have walked in a year.
My lovely wonderful legs.
It has been a while since I thanked you.
To die will be natural. I think of the spirit that is around the body being scared afraid, but in actuality I think that to die will be as easy as to live. just like we have in stinks that make our first time in bed with another smooth, we are beings that are meant to live and die. When we die, if there is a place we go, I don’t expect it to be scary. I think it will be a place we understand and navigate once we are there. I’m not in a rush to go. I think that the monotony and slowness of life is enjoyable. I see diverse opportunity to continue learning and living. I am more or less happy. But again, I am not afraid of death. Even if spirits wander around the areas where they were attached, I don’t think it’s because they’re there in a chaotic place of having lost their body. I think there maybe sadness there, but we will understand it and we will navigate it when we’re there.