i want to be beautiful.
your voice is strong and harp-like and you talk and people listen
the curve of your shoulders and your hair
it falls in arcs and loops and drapes in veils of black and white bleach
you fit in your clothes where i dont
sleeves tight and too big and too bulky
people flit around you in class and you're like the candle to my dull darkness.
you don't even know my name
who knows the air cast in shadow around them. boring and invisible
my bullshit
i'm screaming into the void. less screaming, more like crying
i'm too tough to cry.
my mom was crying yesterday and i froze so i guess i really am emotionally stupid. i wanted to disappear i knew i didn't know how to help her
there's a poet i found on tumblr and pinterest. something keaton.
angels and sin and god and
i am not a poet.
jealousy and envy and meanness are sins i've committed and
will never be able to absolve. repenting is not something i can do
it's too late isn't it
two days ago i was car-window-glass. foggy and blurred.
streetlights glowed like angels and stars against the grainy black sky velvet
i feel empty now like i did then. words are forced and faked
plastic like something that i can't remember
my words have dried up again and all thats left is:
cake-y mud, cracked and dry
i settled like fucking sand like the quicksand i was obsessed with as a kid. now i'm drowning in it. now my Gifted Kid Potential has been drained. nothing's left