the deluded ones [#2]

laugh

january 22nd, 2017

words seem to disappear from my lips as i try to focus on what i'm trying to read, but god, it hurts. i can feel it running through my veins, all of my arteries, and it hurts to let the raindrops fill my eyes and slide away.

it is so quiet, and i've never really liked it before. i feel so alone as if there is no one there, as if i am not surrounded by the comforts of a home.

i can feel a shroud being placed around me, and it feels cold. i shiver as i cry, and the shroud only grows thicker as it separates me from you and the world. if i placed my hand against it, you wouldn't see me because i'm so alone.

as the rain patters quietly, so quietly that even i cannot hear it, against the window, i ask myself why, why i must be alone.

and, as the music plays, i sing to it to as i try to stop myself from shattering that window, the one that is a part of me, because, if i do, maybe i won't exist anymore. if i do, maybe it'll separate me from you and all of the "you's" i know forever.

"do you like it uptown? it's quiet uptown."

i breathed those words as they echo in my mind shakily, and it's like they say, "you knock me out, i fall apart."

and i am the glass jar, tilting and shaking as it tries to stabilize itself.

but i am standing on an edge and perhaps it is just a little too late for that now.