Elucidating Questions

Simply and deviantly I pull threads

Sinking sung madness into the dye

Seeing the colours change

No you never know if you heal

Time could heal if it was offered

Unoffered time

Sinking into the shadows

Seeking colours

Seeking your voice and face

People are always walking forward

But even that doesn’t keep my mind still

Just as it is

They fall

That cloud over there looks like a crude drawing of North America where Vancouver Island is huge

Or it’s a tornado with a speck

A speck

It’s all about perspective

Not where it’s seen from but how it’s seen by so much time and life and experience

Doesn’t quantify doesn’t qualify

Or maybe it’s just a cloud

Maybe I’m beyond waxing poetic at a cloud

Still finding solace in solitary lights

Still wishing softly about farther harbours

Knowing it’s the end

He is going to marry her anyway

And they’ll be a family

Yeah, no matter what I say

I wish there was happiness for people like

Things like me

Out in space what are we anyway

Not fucking inspired or taking influence from space

What a way to taint the stars for a while

Didn’t say I can’t be swayed just strongly unstrongly affected

This is why all they do is hurt me

Take all I have

All I have is the stars

All I’ve ever had is the stars

When I think about it

I’ve always existed outside of groups

Friendly but not friends

There are accepting groups

Nerds, that being anime, gaming, card games, table top gaming, etc.

LQBTQ

Kind and accepting people but I still don’t

Fit in

I still don’t

Quite attach

I still can’t find anyone like me

They just accept the unaccepted

I still don’t belong

I always exist on the fringe

Just outside of friend

Friendly, not friends

I’ve never met anyone who cried over their mint plant being chocolate pudding

With a dead mint stuck in it

But maybe I don’t want to

That person would probably be better

Better at being me than me

Maybe it’s better to be alone than to lose

I wish I fit in somewhere

I’m terrified it will backfire

I am told, to no fanfare, that today is the anniversary of this blog

I am told this, but eighteen hundred

Almost nineteen

Hundred

In a rebirth rebirthed for no reason but to hurt

No peace in the words and words and letters

So many letters

Just the will of the way to keep wishing

And now one year after five months

Everything has changed

But nothing is different

When will it be my time?

They all say soon, it’ll be your time

Such a wasteful word

Soon

As if the constant holding up of an eventual goodness is worth all the waking moments

Of hell

A blown off kiss from the future that will never be absolute

Brief moments drowned into the torrents of grey

The day to day

And soon should be the word of salvation

As if wanting it now is selfish

As if I’m waiting my turn

As if these moments are gracefully given to each in time as if there is a plan

So far in

Too far in to believe in anything

Staring at the clock and thinking

That’s about right

Then thinking maybe I don’t know what I’m talking about

And wondering while this thinking happens

Whether any of this trauma is truly trauma

Maybe it’s make believe

But I feel it

But it can’t possibly

Maybe I’m wrong

I wish it was make believe

So much easier to not already be counting down the seconds until it’s over

Don’t burn bridges

He taught me I struggle to see

Every night in my dreams…

Like a lost melody

And these things going on in between no cure or remedy

Just me

Surely it’s time now

So tired of waiting