come and mingle with me,
soon-to-be-lover. Put your hand
in mine and I can show
you how heat is meant to feel.
rain clouds clutter the sky, but still it
is brighter than if sunny.
i never understood how that could be
and still it remains a mystery.
Sleep long, but light, so that your dreams never quite reach you. Wake up. Wish you didn’t. Sit, staring into nothing, blinking away the daylight as the thunder rams against your skull. God didn’t answer your prayers again. Oh, that’s right. You don’t believe in God anymore. You probably would have if He had fixed you a long time ago.
Sit in the shower - try to feel something, fucking anything. Not a damn thing comes. Cry. Cry because you’re not like the others, because you can’t be happy, because you can’t be a child. Stop because you remember that people have much bigger than issues than you … feel jealous because you’re not lowly enough to have nothing but faith. Instead you have resentment. You’re not special enough. You’re not talented, you’re not loved. Mediocre. Average. Just another wanderer.
Go to work, to school. Realize just how much you lack when compared to others. See as the only talents you thought you had crumble, disappear when a prodigy comes along. Hate them because they’re going somewhere with their life. You’re stuck in a tar pit that swallows your fingers and turns your bones hollow. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Are you really so dumb? Failure. Malignity irons your face stone as you watch everything drop.
People laugh around you. Faces wide and crinkled with life . . . fuckers. It’s impossible for them to be so happy as they whisper behind white teeth and freakish gaiety oozes through their pores. There is no way that they’re not thinking the same thing as you are. Clowns. All of them - faking, forcing themselves. Laugh with them because there’s nothing else that can be done. Hate the raucous thing dragged from your throat because you know what real laughter sounds like.
Stay outside. Look into the sky, the sun filtering through the trees. Remember the times where you would smile … but now. It’s all too familiar. The beautiful skies and the blooming flowers. For years you have seen it. It is lost on you. Just like everything else. Ache for something fill that emptiness that gnaws and bites at you … fuck, wonder if anyone even notices. Wonder if anyone would even care. But you know they won’t, because you wouldn’t either. Every person for themselves.
Attempt to be happy. Keep to your traditions but don’t really believe in them. Nothing works. Will it ever work?
Kneel and pray, sometimes in the middle of the kitchen when no one is around, other times at night outside when no one is up. Pray for God to save you - to help you. To do anything but wallow and fester in the tomb that is your body. Whisper your promises before the haze creeps up your spine and deludes you. Say you’ll do anything to feel like you once did.
Sleep long, but light, so that your dreams never quite reach you …