Drowning to push through
I feel split in between, everything is coming onto me, and why the fuck am I supposed to be able to handle everything? Worst of all, I can’t handle my emotions — knit into a complicated wool knocker, while my necklaces are tucked the same way. Nothing in my life is organized to the point where disorganization has become the new norm. In every move or decision, I step further and further from what I know.
The real question stands: Am I moving backwards or forward? Already distracted by a fear of failure my mind cannot surpass, as if it wants to guarantee it. Procrastination has found its match in me and won’t leave.
I found my match in a rock concert and I stay until the sober morning burns the sheets I hide in. He hides near me, but never with. So close in his arms — but there is nothing to embrace. Brushing through every inch of skin on my body, his hands wandering but never wondering who lives in.
Then comes the sun — reflects from the blinds into his eyes, a striking color of blue. Drawn to them, I stare deeply, begging to see something more — not necessarily love, but anything at all. Emptiness — that I recognize. Who is the shadow I trace vaguely in his look? I’ve become a part of it.
Regardless, you smile — perhaps because there is no point in speaking. I smile back through the loneliness. It’s now 10 a.m. Unsurprisingly, you are no longer seeing me. Turning me to the side and pulling me close to the one place you still care about. I comply. What else is there to do?
Needless to ask if I enjoy it — when I am erased and reduced behind your primitive urges. How can you feel me so well, if I am invisible to you?
Go ahead. Tell me to go down and put me in any position you want. Disgusts me that you only feel what you can touch.
Posted Aug 6, 2025, 11:08 PM UTC