I don't know if I should be impressed or repulsed by your ability to lie to yourself.
---
The soft sunlight filters in through the thin off-white curtains and flutters onto the scuffed carpet, unknowingly spearing the quiet shadows. It's something of a metaphor, and I scoff at the accidental poet that I'd become.
---
"They all cave eventually." He whispered. "It all depends on which way they fall."
---
It's like when
someone hits a horse
to make it move,
I thought that
if I beat myself up
I would work harder
and be better.
But I needed something
to chase.
Like horses chase the carrot on a stick.
---
it's a one-sided rivalry because i'm the only one stupid enough to think we're competing.
---
I think I realized why I'm not on the golden road to self acceptance myself: I don't want it. I don't really have the overwhelming desire to "get better". I'm good with where I am now. Being sad is okay. Being sad is baseline. Do I have a lower standard of living, or is it that I'm just not sad at all? Maybe I've been faking it for attention this whole time. I'm a little disturbed, so that might not be impossible.
---
i'm not cut out for this. life is a cookie cutter, and i am the last scraps of dough that you try so desperately to fit in, to make a whole cookie. it's never enough.
---
i'm tired of:
doing this alone
working on autopilot
waiting for you
---
the worst part wasn't even the spear that pinned me to the ground. it was the people who walked on by, because it was only my world that had stopped turning. only mine that crumbled.
---
I need someone to tell me that everything I've done was worth something.
---
today, i'm sad.
yesterday, i was sad.
tomorrow, i will be sad.
that's it.
---
i remember your name because you burned it into the backs of my eyelids and you're the last thing i see when i go to sleep if i sleep at all if i can find a moment to stop reading your name forward and backward and branding myself as someone who doesn't miss you at all
---
yesterday's shitty day is bleeding onto today's page because i dug into my last reserves and i have nothing left to offer you
---
i go through your words with a fine-toothed comb, reading every tangle as a dig at my existence
---
if you were a train conductor on a vehicle without breaks, would you choose to drive onto a track with 5 people tied to it, or a track with only 1? it's an easy decision, right?
that's what this looks like to me. only i'm both the conductor AND the one person. i'm going to run myself over to avoid hurting the others.
---
good food with good company (me. that's it. nobody else. i eat alone. there is no company.).
---
i don't think i even hate you. i think i'm just mad to see you so happy when you once made me so sad.
---
i got a taste of who i used to be. who i would've been if this had never taken over. i thought that i was healing, that i was finally becoming complete. i fall for it every damn time. depression is a good actor, because release tastes sweeter and sweeter every time.
---
i fell in love
with the idea
of who i could
be.
i forgot
to fall in love
with the person
who i
already was.
---
tell me why breathing feels like coughing down shot after shot of cotton, and if the chaser is the music then it feels like fire melting it all away but burning up my insides. it feels like surfacing for air without realizing that you've been sinking like your pockets were full of stones
---
there's a reason
they call it IN tears.
you're not just crying,
they're consuming you.
they swallow you whole
until all you are
is spit and saline.
---
i cling to the memory
of you
like the barnacles
of a weathered, old sailboat.
or is it the memory of you
that clings to me,
dandelion tendrils on my sleeve?
YOU ARE READING
Open To Interpretation
PoetryThis is a collection of some of my old poems, short stories, and other writing that I created a few years ago, while I was going through a really rough patch in my life. I wanted to publish it back then, but this is the best that I can do for now. E...
