Elucidating Questions

Constantly dangled out in front

This is the night

It’s coming tonight

Just hold on

Something is happening, but it’s a lie everyone sings along with.

I suppose there must be truth for someone.

Just not me.

The constant preparation for nothing to change or happen.

I got bored of the fall

The daily drop as midnight came.

And I realised with each passing lie,

That none of it was for me.

I watch. I listen.

I never experience any of it.

Even though it’s all I ever wanted.

So you sit across from me asking how should you feel,

But I don’t have an answer for that.

I can’t even come up with an answer for how I should feel let alone anyone else.

Hardly able to push myself through this day to day nothingness,

Unsure what the process is, already blew it all to pieces with whatever I am

I shouldn’t feel concerned for you, but I do so first tell me

Why I keep feeling concerned and then maybe I’ll know how I’m supposed to feel

From dawn on, my only thought

When I really wanted it to disappear

But I have no control over my dreams, they come,

I wake, I regret sleeping.

There’s a small part of me that remembers how happy I am dreaming,

Like the two hearts aren’t connected.

Or unaware that daylight is coming.

If I told you how much I want to not be here,

You’d throw me out.

Even if I go there, all I know is I’ll be safe.

But I can’t get there, I have to wait until the place holding me down and clipping my wings shows me some mercy and makes me able.

I smiled up at the sky only because I was crazy

And thought you were waiting for someone

I want to see you.

Well I guess I did it’s good enough I’m not trying to be selfish I just hear you in strangers and the sickest moment if hope surges through me and I murder it

Because I knew you weren’t coming when the three things stopped happening.

I’m not going to explain. It happened on repeat every day for three months and it was like being just on the other side of a chance meeting I thought it was for me

Someone else got it

I know how it works. I see happiness,

Someone else experiences it.

You don’t give me happiness,

You give me happiness I have to observe but then never see.

By this time I don’t know who you are or what you are or if I’m just

Talking to nothing.

I can’t wait for it to be five hundred years later,

Because they can see how much I failed.

People tell me to keep hoping

But all I ever do is fail.

So what’s the purpose of this rambling insanity?

Nothing.

It just happens before I know it.

I wish I could stop.

This impossible year…

I start to resent the sheer amount of power you have

Not you

The power

You have all of it, just like he did.

Like everyone before

I never have any control

No power.

It’s always over me, I feel helpless

I can’t make any action

None that would make it better

You have all the power and choose not to and I don’t even know…

Anything. Ever.

It’s hard to even come to an end and look back and say

I feel this way because

It’s this mass of my confused and pained emotions dusted with pixie flower rainbow…shit.

And then this big bluish blackhole that sucks it all in and I don’t know what happened

I don’t know if I did something, or if it’s nothing and I’m just not good enough or if it even mattered at all or what when I was trying to stop the stars from going out

Like whatever that was about and the fear of the very thought of losing him made all of it worth it at the time but coming this far without even a shred

Of indication

Except that one comment

Which took as backhanded

Maybe

Wouldn’t it be lovely if it was all entirely in my head and there was a figment of a chance

That I could still be found

I hate it

But it’s never going down because I don’t even know which actions were wrong or why and that makes it so much harder to change it so it never happens

I don’t even know what it is.

With every dying breath will my answer to your question

Still be

Why?

No.

No.

No.

Skip.

Stop.

What do I want to hear?

Something that will take away the pain for a second,

Or three minutes and fifty three.

Or four minutes and twenty five.

But I can’t think of one, all the songs I used to use for background something just to keep me separated from the outside world

Afraid of every stranger like I am

They started becoming

About me, I hope you end up alone you’re going to be alone and it’ll be your fault

Those things that are in every one

It stopped being about either no one, or just a way to vent a feeling,

To being about me.

Because it’s not like any evidence otherwise ever presented itself.

Now I have them on my head, silent, hearing the mechanical clicks of a wireless connection

I try to remind myself how I used to hear music but I can’t and I don’t think I’ll ever

Ever really be able to go back to that,

Do my actions speak louder or my words?

I don’t remember either,

But my ears know how to hear only the sound of criticism

The rest of it goes in one ear out the other or really just hits the

Proof

That I’m not a firework or a dancing flame or a dreamcatcher or a person who gets what it needs or wants.

So, I either end up changing it out of disdain for the lies I believed

Or out of pain from being forced over and over and over again

To realise that I’m a terrible person,

And how quiet it is all alone.

Are we two faced or two walking in one?

I don’t know.

Do you remember everything?

I remember correctly.

Fucking dodging fuck.

I don’t think we deserve this and I think I can number each of the causes, but you won’t let me. Keeping mind we fight constantly now.

Stop trying to convince me to try again because you think he’s who you think he is.

As if I’ve ever been able to convince you to even stay away from the ones who caused all the pain.

What do you think we should do?

The body always feels weird and the music changes and everything is a whirlwind all the time like our thoughts never match up and all we do is fight about how afraid of the next step is and whether or not we should try vis a vis immediate failure.

I hate all of it.

You’re a liar. But I’m not. I feel sadness for them, but I don’t think it matters. Regardless of hating or love. No one ever noticed.

I wonder if we will ever be able to go back to not seeing how much of a hell this planet is

Don’t dance. Capitalism is hell. Colonialism is hell. Western culture is hell. It’s hell. If we could escape it’d be fine, but we know it will only get worse. It always grows in.

Is it possible to embrace them while hating everything they all stand for…

Especially when we’re forced by their complacency to stand for it ourselves

I don’t know anymore

You say that to protect yourself from how much it hurts that they won’t afford you the same.

This place isn’t who I am

No place.

How do I keep myself together if I can’t find acceptance of me in other people?

No one ever defined self. Only the accepted self. Projected. Created. Performed.

You think your calculations make you less feeling.

When did you notice I’d showed up again I wonder?

I don’t think they can count to three though.

I’m a coping mechanism when he has no answer to your questions.

You make the music angry.

The music can stand to be a bit angry.