i am going to take your "like" of me
and i will mold it into a sphere.
palms facing up, i will hold it.
i will tell you to look at it and marvel.
and then i will crush it with my fingers.
slowly, excruciatingly
without excuse, without reason
i will break it.
do you still like me now?
and i will mold it into a sphere.
palms facing up, i will hold it.
i will tell you to look at it and marvel.
and then i will crush it with my fingers.
slowly, excruciatingly
without excuse, without reason
i will break it.
do you still like me now?
i fall yet again. falling and falling. again. and again. it's the sense of loss. the sense of life... draining away.
***
twenty-three is young. Younger than what? Why do I feel old? Why do I meet people and feel that I've met them before? Why do I shed tears of longing, sadness, and the lightness of being me?
***
today, i felt like screaming. i felt that i wanted to die. i felt that i wanted to rip my wrists open and bleed.
and i had to press my palms to my jaw to supress the word "twenty-three".
i am but i am not. i think of the sand and the sea. i think of the smell of brine and sun. but i also think of emptiness and drabness. i think of anger and hypocrisy. i am but i am not.
***
But they say, this ,too, shall pass.
***
twenty-three is young. Younger than what? Why do I feel old? Why do I meet people and feel that I've met them before? Why do I shed tears of longing, sadness, and the lightness of being me?
***
today, i felt like screaming. i felt that i wanted to die. i felt that i wanted to rip my wrists open and bleed.
and i had to press my palms to my jaw to supress the word "twenty-three".
i am but i am not. i think of the sand and the sea. i think of the smell of brine and sun. but i also think of emptiness and drabness. i think of anger and hypocrisy. i am but i am not.
***
But they say, this ,too, shall pass.
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