Oh Melancholy My Love~

So I’m alone again. It’s been a while since I opened this page. Maybe I was happy for that while. But honestly I don’t know. Dysthymia has gotten the best of me again. This time I think I have forgotten how to love. It is not that I do not want to. It is just.. I don’t feel much anymore these days. 

I’ve torn myself open and gave so many bits of my heart away that there was nothing left for you. I’ve sewed myself up so many times that all I feel is numbness now. It seems like there is only one thing I can love now:

Melancholy. It’s a strange feeling of comfort. It’s the reason I can’t love anything, or anyone. Time has allowed me to get good at faking emotions, laughter, tears, anger, frustration, just to fit in society. And I think I’ve done really well with it. I have social groups, I have connections, I even have admirers. I’ve faked so many emotions that sometimes I do not know if I’m experiencing them or not. In all truth, I sometimes wonder if I feel anything at all. 

Melancholy isn’t a state of sadness to me, rather an endless wave of emptiness. The comfort that I hold no connections to anyone or anything. That my life is my own to live or die if I wish so. The feeling that nothing can tie me down. I want to be alone in this world. But yet I cant. If I were to be stuck in the 5^th dimension like Matthew Mcconaughey, I think I will feel right at home. Away just away from everything. No connections, no friends, no lovers, just an endless emptiness. I would like to live in such a place. 

Oh look tears. I don’t know why these are falling. I did not love you. I could not love you. Neither am I feeling that sharp pain in the chest people associate with heartbreak. This is new to me. Ha. Maybe, somehow, I’ve soften up. A little, maybe. Ah they stopped. I count 3. 

This is frustrating. I want to love, I want the feeling of butterflies in my stomach. I want a deep personal connection with someone. I want to smile simply because I saw her face. I want that feeling whereby everything else doesn’t matter because we are together. 

Have I harden my heart so much that it’s too late for me? This thing beating in the middle of my chest, has it become so cold? Ice-nine. I think that’s what resides deep within me. Pumping devil’s water through my coal veins. 

Will someone come along and recite the lyrics to Coldplay’s Fix you to me? Cause I’ve tried my best I swear. And I don’t know what else I can do. Fix me! I dare you to! Just remember the world ended because of Ice-nine. That’s what resides within me so approach with caution. 

And if you are reading this, I’m sorry. I really am.

Don't turn out all the lights My mind won't go to sleep

I don't really write anymore.
I don't know what to do with myself.
I wake up alone
every day
but I never felt it so much as now
 
there is nothing to be said
about the sunlight or the swing or the porch railing
but they are my new homes.

sometimes
I fuck around
with people I pretend to know
and then I pretend
that it doesn't matter.

I go on silent rampages
of self abuse
I imagine I’m screaming
screaming
screaming
but I never am.

sometimes
I say I'm angry
when the truth is
it's just easier than saying 'I don't know.'
for such a know-it-all
I say a lot of I don't knows.

I have too much nothing inside
and I take care of things that
don't matter to me.
I turn off lights
and write lines.
sometimes I don't eat
just because I’d be empty afterwards anyway.

when I think of you
sometimes I smile
before I bleed knuckles

again.

The last Goodbye.

I've once caught myself wishing I could pay the world's sum of money to let you go
But I, I haven't been able to find that feeling,
that naturalness since you left.

I can't even explain how much I can't let myself Think!
because when I do I feel;
and feeling makes me remember love 
and how to do it.

I see the oceans birth itself in my eyes because I 
I can't express to you how much I miss kissing you without fear,
without hesitation
Or how much I miss lying next to you 
and just breathing you in every breath 
a breath of you

It was like I could live from you and you alone

But I,
I can't let myself go waiting for you 
Because waiting means hope 
And hope means disappointment - when it becomes expectation 
and if I hold on with hope as my fingers I know that I will break again. 
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
So this is goodbye.
and this is the last Goodbye I will ever say.

It tastes like love.

I could speak of her in riddles,
in aged, anatomy textbook terminology-
but, I wont.

You see, I cuffed this angel to my bedpost.
I sank my teeth into feathers she wore like a cage
and asked if I was dreaming, because Love,
you're not holding me. If you only knew the you in my head,
every night--tearing with these heavenly fingers
at the cracks in my sanity- you would allow me this!

Her tongue tastes my tears; nails clawing, clawing, clawing-
she takes away my pain,
but she doesn't belong to me either.

"We are but wolves. 
Tell me, what does my blood taste like?"

Post Mortem

I like pretending I mean something to the ghosts
who wreak havoc on my bones
impaling these masochistic butterfly wings
on railroad spikes
between heartbeats and bedsheets
immortalized

I am a walking, talking universe of dead poets
who tattoo their stanzas into my flesh
with ghostly typewriter fingers

I live and breathe their worldly disasters
like a nicotine addiction I've always had

Drowning in their scribbles
I kiss their shoreline romances
envy their Annabel Lee's
and carry their hearts in mine

I am 7am coffee on Sunday mornings:
a half drunk, hung-over limerick
waiting to happen

I am jealousy:
nothing more than weak words,
and a tongue-tied cliche-

I am death:
Anathema,
A wanderer
The swiming liquid fire through the ashes
of a dead phoenix veins. 

I am Post Mortem.

Small musings

Father what is bigger than the moon?
The earth my child.
Why?
Because if the earth were an empty bird’s nest,
it could fit several moons inside.

What’s bigger than the earth?
A sun my child.
Why?
Because if a sun were an orange
then the earth’d be a tiny crumb of bread.
If you were starving, which one would you pick?

What’s bigger than a sun?
A galaxy my child.
Why?
Because if a sun were a bee,
a galaxy would be a swarm of bees
flying in hypnotic circles,
ellipses and parabolas around their hive.

What’s bigger than a galaxy?
Human thought my child.
Why?
Because thought is like a net
that can catch all the bees in the universe
and put them in a jar and study their
colors, structure, venom, instincts,
language, and habits.

What’s bigger than human thought?
Emptiness my child.
Why?
Because thought is like a tiny bubble in the vast
sea of nothingness that surrounds us,
leaving little more than a local ripple on the surface
once it expires.

Six hundred and eighty four days

For six hundred and eighty four days, I woke up. I woke up with this bone-deep ache that never went away. I woke up to an incessant question playing in my mind that would never be answered. I woke up alone.

For six hundred and eighty four days, I woke up without you when I woke up at all. The thing about time is that it never does make anything better. It just means more space to think. It means sleepless nights trying to figure it all out. When it went wrong. How to make it better. It means slowly losing my mind. But it never once meant getting over you.

It's funny how the things you think you've forgotten always come rushing back when you're standing face to face and in one swift breath, you remember it all.

You remember everything.

The sky is always the biggest right before it rains. That's how I learned to always couple disappointment with expectations since no matter how beautiful something seems, a disaster is always right on the horizon.

The waves are crashing quickly on the shoreline, building a momentum only my heartbeat could match. The rapid pounding against my ribs is getting faster and faster. The water is spilling against the coastline quicker and quicker. The whole world is moving too swiftly.

Until everything just stops—

Just completely stalls with the sound of your voice in my ear. You're the only person that could ever make the world stop. The only person who could ever make me stop. Make my heart stop.

It makes me sad. It makes me smile. It makes me completely crazy. But most of all, it makes me want you.

I can't remember the last time I saw you. Or at least that's what I tell you every time we talk, because I don't want you to know how many times I've replayed the sight of your eyes looking into mine, tears blurring my vision as I watched you walk away.

You look different now, but always the same. Always familiar. I want to step away from you. Distance will always be the thing that saves me so I've learned how to use it every time I'm terrified. And you scare me more than anything.

I told myself I wouldn't go here. I told myself I wouldn't do this again. I told myself I wouldn't come, but I do every fucking time. I want to. I have to. Because I miss you. Because I still love you.

All I can think when I see you is that you don't remind me of beautiful things anymore, because it's unimaginable to compare you to anything less breathtaking than you. I think about the way people change and how things evolve and then I think about the way I feel about you and how it's been the exact same since the moment I laid eyes on you.

I don't have enough words to tell you the story of how I followed you here. To this moment. To a second chance. To a different coastline.

All I know is that for six hundred and eighty four days, I woke up without you and I never want to remember what that feels like again.

These are the words I could never say to you.

No, I'm not giving up,
I'm not quiting.
I'm letting go. 
This time I know,
Its out of my hands.

For my entire life I have longed for love. 
I knew it was not right for me to want or expect it. 
But I did, 
and this unjustified desire has been at the root of every problem that I have experienced in my life. 

Right now,
all I know is how I feel,
and all I know is I feel dead
Make of it what you will.

What I need you to understand
is that every time I say to myself,
I love you,
I also say, it doesn't matter.

I never told you before about
how I loved you, and how angry
I was when I figured it out.
It seems denial can only get you so far.

You see
The thing is everyone tells me I can do better
and I know I can do better
But I don’t want better
I just want..

So when you asked me,
if I was ok,
I’m not
But I will be.