Poetry
This is the general category of fuckery that goes on and on and doesn’t seem interested in stopping.
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Water under the bridge
Not under the bridge
Just watching at it looms
The bridge the bridge
The water isn’t flowing enough
The current is too weak
All these feelings
Leaden droplets
The let down was no let down
Simply empty
As the space which occupies
After the bridge
And under the bridge
Under the bridge
Perhaps due to the shade
Shapes of feelings change
Perhaps lead like a feather floats merrily down the stream
But I still dream of him every night
Those beautiful blue eyes
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Nothing doesn’t feel like nothing when the little pills have drip drip dripped away
The day to day
The heavy feeling of being the underlying
So feel sorry for yourself
Sobbing over feeling sick
Like, no, I just can’t handle it
And I want my mommy
Like a child I wish her there to pet my brow and remind me
It’s just for now
It’s only temporary
Say sweet words to make the pain of sickness sway slightly
Soured moments
There is no mommy
The venom burns it burns I wish I had a way to make this feel better
Besides tiny pills
One, two, three
And you look at me and I’m a normal person
Nothing I’m falling apart
Nothing holds me together
Nothing yet it hurts so much
Nothing wrong
Pictures of Chester
Nothing right
I wonder if he’s still singing a love song
I wish I had someone to hold me together
Days like today
Days like today
Just a message away
I need love
Without those tiny little pills
Without those fucking pills
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All my love for a pocket full of dreams
Not one caught, though, it seems
Still trapped in this monotonous daily routine
Where every inbetween is left staring at a screen
It makes me want to scream but there’s no change there’s no change
There’s no change
Even with everything I had
I amount to nothing
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Presently,
Quiet and numb
Nothing does truly offer endlessly
At least nothing
Would rather feel nothing than pain
Would rather feel nothing than hurting alone
So much easier to have nothing
When something is so far away
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I love when the guitar cries, when it sings
How the drum hits like a meteorite
How the bass strings along not following not running
How it laughs at it becomes more complex
The music followed doesn’t always follow the rules of true bliss
Not quite filling all the spots or picking at them
Relentless
Nostalgic nothings the only reason they stay like loyalty to ghosts
And every one a conversation I will never have
Sometimes the loneliness poison poisons everything
Even the singing violin
Can’t get past the sickness it creates
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Sometimes I listen to your songs as punishment
Sometimes they come on, and I think I’m being punished
No more are the days of turning to Trench when everything was wrong
No more quiet nights alone in a room with you holding me together
No more words to chase after and decode for just a hint
Just a hint
My bag is ripped and I am stripped of everything that ever held me
Sometimes I watch pieces of me fall away like parts in a play
About a robot
Watch them go, say that I don’t know
Who I am or what anymore just wanted to feel something good for a change
Change everything
I’ll still never be the girl you’re thinking of
I’ll never be the boy either
Heave a sigh and wonder why the music cuts every time
Like ice
There is a wound but no weapon
Completely in love with and defeated by The Trench
Is this how you wanted it?
This isn’t how I wanted it
Days are nightmares I only wake from in sleep
So I will never wake
And you will never see
Elucidating Questions 