Elucidating Questions

Standing up at the top, someone has been stealing time,

And the saddest part is it’s me, I fell off the rail,

And the cliff on the other side dropped off so far down that once the tracks were left there was almost no sound

To plunge down below, past the road and the rocks,

Into this thick blanket of blackness where there is no no where or somewhere,

Up or down, left or right, around, nothing, but silent, screaming, invisible matter.

All I hear are the sirens and the ringing, the silence and the ticking,

Beyond beyond between and this place, far away from any space.

When out of time on the boundaries below the horizon of the stars and the galaxies,

Is there existence if it is beyond the fields of vision, beyond the edges

Out in the dark that exists, regardless

But the light can only exist with it,

The colours only in it.

Somewhere.

Maybe some day I will write poetry and prose worth sharing.

That the silence of waiting, when I don’t ever get it right,

That they wait for something worth it.

That is just how it happens when you don’t know anything, I suppose.

Someday I will write something worth singing, or worth reading, someday the ones around me

Won’t protect me by never telling me,

How terrible it truly is.

To see anything that has been created,

By these hands.

Or perhaps this is the realisation,

That dreams just don’t come true. If you write them down, they make sense to no one but you,

So no one enjoys any of it,

Not even you.

Trying to fit in the loves lives and memories of another,

When none of it fit like a cookie cutter.

Someday.

If I ever want to come back to this nothingness and feelings of only that I can’t.

I’ll read over anything, I suppose.

It feels wrong, but you’re still beautiful. It stings and it hurts but you’re still good.

Disregarding objects is expected.

Merely a shadow you can always ignore,

But you’re still beautiful, and your voice is still that of an angel,

And your face still is worth seeing any time.

Your existence is still needed, needed so badly,

I’m the one who should be left to wither away.

I’m sorry for everything, everything I ever said.

If I could take it back and not be known by you,

I feel it is the best thing I could ever do by you,

You’re beautiful and worthy of every single day,

I hope you spoke to that person who you passed by,

And that you have friends who won’t leave you behind.

Don’t worry I’ll not distract you from the one you truly want to be happy with.

The ending is the same as it was years ago,

For me,

Luckily we’re parallel and you can turn.

I don’t think I have anything else. And I won’t say it, I won’t say it again,

I don’t want you to think about it.

The water colour skies in the waterfalls of the atmosphere.

Following your dreams is greed if you think of it hard enough,

If you think hard enough every action is negative regardless.

Someone will always dislike it.

The sweeping brushstrokes that create the greys blue and purples

A mountain range where it rains, or if it’s cold still the snow.

The cold of the elevation of being too hard, setting the self impossible bars.

Thinking of every action that can be remembered, but then removed as the comb of an old face looks over it

I was just a child, I whisper to the silence,

Trying to justify the actions of the past.

Knocking in threes, clipping of paths and crumbling of trees.

My soul and spirit may be yours, but the body is mine,

The chemicals that stream through the body creating too much heat to ignore

Is this what it felt like? Or is it the opposite,

After all the memories of the box often fade quickly,

But friends and support existed then.

Now there is no home to go home to at the end,

The urge to wander, to sleep outside

Rather than face a room rather than face the silence of another lonely night

A day that works but doesn’t have feeling.

Ah, but of course, a wish for the new ones,

I hope this real story has a happy ending for them.

And that the setting sun whose yellow lights and shadowed hills rolling away into the distance, the grip of the clouds,

Has been seeing some people whose happy endings exist.

I don’t know anything about it.

I’ve haven’t experienced it myself. Nor should I have expected it,

But there are others who will.

The pressure of them on my shoulders,

As I scrape by daily, on the bottom.

Roses whither, the brambles stay,

Patches of thorns as the petals melt away,

Into the ground beneath to be soil,

Roses whither, and rot away.

Petals fall day by day, a beast with a rose in the middle, or a rose who cannot speak.

You made your choice.

And so it goes, time takes all the beautiful away.

It was love. It burned me alive. It burned so bright that I thought I could be real.

Rose crafted from glass that shattered alone,

Brambles of steel nights and words that can only convey,

It was beautiful before, because you were there, in any way.

You’re welcome any time, an open invitation,

The deep only gets deeper because this is where I go alone.

When I thought I had someone and something and someones who I could know and show love to,

The rose garden had promised

Always ends up cold and empty.

The secret garden,

But the roses keep dying.

No matter what colour painted,

Secrets don’t exist.

Except for him. He’s the secret that is destroying every day.

I would never let it go,

I have to go back to the box. We can’t run free, I can’t be there and I won’t be.

I am the watcher. Again.

I find nothing every day.

They’ll go somewhere.

I will stay, locked in the pen he never enters.

They’ll be ready for it.

I will watch. I suppose.

Now there’s just dust. The brambles cracked and broken.

I don’t even have anything to pull anymore, besides the bones that ache and the head that pounds and the broken promises

This story would be welcome, but only if it was only for me.

Wouldn’t that be funny?

If it happened and it was only me?

Today, as yesterday, as every day since the beginning of the fifth

The almost halfway point to this year that doesn’t get better,

Doesn’t end, try harder get nowhere, fall into place where you can find nothing.

Still a shadow no one notices, still a nothing no one wants.

Still this, still left behind, still I wanted someone to come back

Why do I have to keep doing this?

All I feel is pain and loneliness and guilt and shame and

I miss the colours and the way it felt to think tomorrow could be good for something.

Possibilities that seemed infinite and we could do anything, if I could just get to tomorrow.

Tomorrow doesn’t come, midnight brings proof of it every day.

I wake up, I don’t run away, I wake up in this place every day

Inside it feels like

A dark place, this is where the losers go,

I am one of the world’s chosen losers but I am not losing enough for it to matter but every day

I would trade places with any of them, but I can’t because the question is still there and unanswered possibilities of impossibility.

When do I get to feel alive again?

When will the pain in my spine be gone and the feeling always being alone be gone and the feeling of always watching as everyone walls away and goes on with their lives forgetting me

I just want to say goodbye so I never have to say hello to this place ever again

Why? I wanted to know what I did,

I want to wake up and feel like the day could be more

This message ends, someday.

I was wrong to believe I could trust

Anyone.

My story of a dream come true, instead this.

I wanted to meet him, I found out I don’t need him

After all existing one day to another with no memory recorded

Remember events taking place, forgetting all else and the words are gone, I don’t remember what I write.

I don’t need him to fall apart, after all I do that alone every day.

Everyone remembers to forget me, while I wade up to my neck in the thick black memories

Tainted by time.

There are none sweet anymore.

Bitter and I will move forward,

So I don’t feel anything

Except misery, and pain.

Or nothing, and all the colours fade, and the music is grey.

I hope I don’t have a this time next year, if it means another birthday and all the holidays before

Watching every day as they go without me, being ignored.

Being forgotten about, and ignored.

Watching others flying free while the broken bird lies on the ground.

I hope I go somewhere else instead.

I should go somewhere I belonged, but I don’t,

Or I’d have found it by now.