Elucidating Questions

Dear little sunflower

You are so sweet.

Perhaps I shouldn’t have pointed in all directions, I should have just followed the sun.

The void of a heart torn out sewn in thrown out ripped apart stuck back together

There’s too many ashes I only feel it when it’s broken.

I probably won’t find it.

All I feel is pain,

The scale ends at the middle of the end of pain and the beginning of whatever the opposite was supposed to be.

It just stops there so every day even the interactions that should have got through just melt into the whisper of pain that doesn’t whisper it merely

Continues a conversation over everything

Every day.

Like two conversations never ending

And I can’t see through the fog

The anticipation of social interaction

Maybe I just need cocaine.

Don’t know, I haven’t tried it.

Maybe that’s what I’ll hold on to.

Nothing else works.

It hits me in these moments I think

Of how little I want to trust people but I trust so deep

I don’t even know what I expected but it really wasn’t this

And I don’t know what I did, but I can see they’re in bliss

So I either missed or it’s something I did, but I can’t go through just writing it all again

I’d have to live it and I can’t go back to that place

Where I was waiting and watching intently for a familiar face

Who never showed.

The story just gets so old and I want something new to go on but what do I have left when I don’t know where I’m going and I’m just this huge mess

Where does the erased go to be written back in?

Does my life really have to begin again?

Because it’s not a childish don’t want to wait it’s a fear

I’m afraid of what horrors each new day can bring and I wade through the waters that are too deep to even swim

From the second I open my eyes I am waiting for the thing that will bring

The fear back down and remind me it’s okay but I drown there

And I sit and I wait there.

A part of me screams to get up and try again to feel, but I’m so afraid.

No one likes me when I’m real.

At some point the body chimes in and I know it’s a metaphor I made the metaphor and I don’t know what for it just happened

Mostly I feel as though what I do these days is reply to false hopes of the past as they try to pull me aside and say

But what if it’s different today

I had a good time

And then I fell down

With the hand of Saturn at my back

Venus watching as I fell in love with the children.

Jupiter overhead as we spoke of the Empress.

I remember it like a dream.

But I don’t know why.

I’m so tired.

This real human body and I.

The numbness is it preferable?

If I turn it all off and decide for a moment that I don’t feel anything

Beneath the lonely sad depressed person

Beneath the bit of a mess

Beneath the everything

I’m bored.

I can’t get to where I want and I can’t do what I want to feel good.

I can’t.

Simple, I can’t do anything,

But I watch as everyone else does.

Always left behind.

I have a friend I quite like him,

He’s very kind, he reminds me of someone.

He reminds me of a friend.

He never called it his home

Peter Pan.

Cultural canon.

Overheard conversation

巻き込むから。

The tree passed the pinecone to its neighbour rather than drop it on my head.

Nature versus nurture.

If it’s manipulation I’m not very good at it, am I?

If it was manipulation people would do as I was hoping they would following my actions.

A very small feather.

And a chicken bone.

There once was a chicken of fire, who fought all that was around him.

But he gave in too quickly,

And he missed the sign he shouldn’t have missed.

I miss all this time I could have spent with you.

I miss it all.

A little piece inside me still seeks out peace of mind

And I know it cannot come for such a weary heart as mine

They tell me that it’s my fault,

My own dark recipe

But when I hear it calling and I try to run and flee

I called out in the day time,

I called out in the night,

I sang every sing song I thought of to keep me awake,

Tried to connect the dots and fill in the holes that fell,

And when it hit me hard it was like waking from a spell.

Alone and in the wreckage of things I didn’t understand

Separated and alone I withered in the sand

Parched and begging for the rain because it’s all I have left

I thought I could lead this life of mine if only for a friend.

Yet selfishly I lead the cause of my broken life

In to tomorrow still awake at the stroke of midnight.

It’s hard when that’s all you have to share, you know?

I whisper into the third light who greeted me with warmth that could only be shared with a

Good evening

And

I love you

And we all have stuff to share but this is what I landed on and it’s all I do when I’m alone

People who have come and gone and come and gone

Did you tell me something about an hour ago? I’m sorry I forgot and it wasn’t because I wasn’t listening it was because I didn’t hear.

But also I did hear and it’s gone

I’m sorry.

I don’t think it’s a matter of this or that anyways so if I really tried to reach out

Listening to someone performing music in their garage or something

I wish I could join you

But I don’t know how to explain where I am to the people who know me

There’s a me who is male and a me who is female

Or there is a me who is both

Or I don’t really care can I just live my life but

Pronouns and other such nonsense.

I look up to see the assassin the boy and a satellite have joined me and

Some names unknown who watch.

The assassin is the first star I see

I wish I could be me without having to apply myself to other people’s ideas of what me is.

That sounds so selfish.

He says silence.

I don’t honestly believe in him or anything.

I honestly think he’ll get out of it.

I don’t know what that means. I will get back

To the beginning somehow.

I don’t feel it

The wind on my back could be but a whisper

Felt like through a sheet

But my back is open to the wind

I put my fingertips to glass to try to find the letter to explain how it feels

My fingertips

Feel as though I wear gloves but the letters still come

And I can feel the fingers that hold the rectangle

That holds all my feelings

And I know they must be holding it because I see it

I see it like a surreal dream I wish I could wake up from

I shut my eyes as tight as they will go

In nightmares I need to wake from I close my eyes and open my eyes awake

I just quit the game if I don’t like it

But I am still here and it’s a game I can’t win.

Break the circle

When the circle just breaks me again.

I should have known

Should have known

Should have

Well

You know the rest.

If you don’t it’s a shame.

Everything triggers a song like being bombarded with thousands of voices all the time except it’s music, but a line or a word or a phrase

And the only solace I find is the songs I know and remember

But even the ones I used to hide in while trying to keep my wits about me on the outside

They scare me.

I think,

What if I made someone sing this about me?

What if someone thinks these things about me?

But I hate myself, so I know those songs everyone sings about themselves to make themselves feel good about themselves

Are not being sung to me.

Such beautiful

Something, sometimes my keyboard prompts arrange things.

Can I love now?

And it’s parked right there as if taunting me

It’s the same colour and it wouldn’t matter if it was parked right there because no matter how I am

He doesn’t want me.

So it’s not his, but it makes me think about why it isn’t his.

And that’s what gets me every time.

Before it drags me into nowhere.

I need your help. I can’t fight this forever.