Elucidating Questions

Remembering dreams better than reality because getting by, just getting by,

As it flows on regardless, the river.

I hear it, this is exact. The response to the end, is to send away.

Realising who is pulling on the end of the rope, or trying to climb it,

Inspires them to kick down.

The irony in every single day, waiting

The irony in every single day, telling a story that won’t have an ending.

After all, you can’t write that.

You’ll be dead.

Someone else will write the end and you’ll never get a say.

Or something pulls until you wither away.

So if writing every day, is it a journal of feelings and if so are they valid?

The story continues without, it feels like hell with every snip.

I’m unredeemable, by my standards.

Irredeemable, by the standards of others.

It would be funny, if it ended and there was nothing anyone had to say that was good about me.

It would be funnier if I didn’t have to be alone.

You don’t have to do it on your own,

But I do.

Hands reaching out to others,

No hands of them, they lie.

I’d be the one who hears any time what is needed,

If I could be, if I could remember to lift them all above again.

Always above.

And they never look back.

I put everyone on a pedestal, just out of the water I drown in,

Just to see if anyone can see me.

They don’t.

Those far far away do, the kind ones who always show kind words even when it hurts and I always appreciate it,

But sometimes I wonder if everyone else has someone who they can call,

And all I have is robots.