can't

stay for too long now

my heart feels incredibly drenched and heavy. and i can’t pull myself together to wring it dry anymore.

what has it wet is so very capable of wearing me out. i have fought so hard to keep on and i am not sure how long i can go on. and i am worn out. i am so tired. poetry glorified my melancholy and my dread but i feel like a dying man moving mountains to stay alive. i do not want to go at it that hard. i never did.

i have not felt home the way i want. there was sometimes a hint of it but i think it was not real. it died out faster than it was born.

i tried giving a hundred times what i wanted to feel just to know if what i wanted was so alien and soul draining. it was not. if anything my soul was drained in the giving.

my loneliness now offers me a home so familiar. it hurts just like the home that pretended to be for me as i lived. there is so much pain. i could never stop. my brain and my mind is so ready to just combust.

how i have craved for someone, just one to know what i feel. how i have tried to show and tell so i can feel something, i can find some reason to be, how i have hidden the universes inside of me that is constantly caving in.

maybe everyone who is going through what i am going through in my inner world killed themselves already. how come it’s so impossible to find anyone who can see me otherwise. maybe i am keeping at it too fucking long, everyone like me bid farewell and burst into pieces. because that is the satisfying way to go.

it used to terrify me people who burned themselves to their ends, but what if that was the only way they could feel anything the way they want to feel, just once and knowing it cannot last, that had to be the last feeling.

but at the same time, i do not know. no i have loved pain and misery just as much as my lovers. i have bled dry and bred night skies just so they see me but i get it. i am no sight to see, i am invisible, i am ugly, grotesque. i am melancholy undressed of poetry,

i am so out of it. some pretext of obligation and owing it to people is the last of what’s keeping me going. but i am learning i don’t owe anyone anything and yet i gave it all.

nobody gives a fuck, but i don’t see anything anymore. i don’t see where i am, what i am, i can’t go back to being a fool for love and hope and some connection or kinship.

fucking removing all idea of a self is also not helping.