Make It Spooky

Where has all your wasted wandering left you?
What do you remember from when you knew everything?
Where’d you lose all of that knowledge?

It was wasted to trials of wastes-of-time,
To claustrophobia induced in square rooms
Where you were blinded to dumbness
By fake, bright light.

You were left conditioned

And empty.

If life was a story
That I could write for myself
I’d write you out of it.

I’d write you dead.

My readers would cry.
Afterall, you’re their favorite character.

“Why’d you write it red
And graphic?

So painful,

So brutal,

Why?

What did he do?”

That’s what the audience would howl at me.

And all I can say is,

I had to clear my head.

They’ll miss your charm and wit,
Those sparkling eyes and
heart melting smiles

The ones I wrote for you.

And I suppose I’ll miss them too.

But now I’m playing God
And you’ve been playing with my head
So I’ll craft your murder

It’s my story.

But I can’t control my life in pen and ink

I can’t kill you

And I can’t forget you.

I told  you the day was beautiful
And that I hoped you had spent it well
You told me, “Yes, quite
for you were on my mind.”

But you never asked how I’d spent it.
You didn’t wonder if I’d spent a beautiful day beautifully

No one ever asks

And I never have the chance to say
“Today,
Today…

Oh, today
Was the perfect backdrop
For slicing myself open

The best day to drown

Because today
I realized you aren’t real.”

The funniest thing is
I’ll pretend this matters to you

That the thing I love most
Is something sharp and cold
Sliding over hidden skin
Leaving its trail of crimson

I’m not happy
And if you’re willing to believe the lies I am
The lies I tell
Then you’re more fool than me

There’s blood on everything.

And it’s blinding us.

I just found an OLD notebook from high school. It’s filled mostly with notes from my days of stage managing my high school’s production of our spring musical back in 2008, but I found this too, sprinkled among scribblings of AFI song lyrics. It’s probably terrible, but for me, it’s the sweet nostalgia that feels right, and for some reason it means something right now. I feel like it’s unfinished, but regardless, here it is.

Thaw me.

I expected understanding

I expected a frozen heart to melt.

I expected too much.

Take it back
And put it back together.

On second thought,
Keep it.

I don’t need it anymore.

Do what you will

And have your way

Because I refuse to be a tragedy.

Sure, I can function in day to day life.
Sure I may seem odd, strange, different, but I get by.

But God, you have no idea what I do to myself when I’m alone.
You have no idea.

If I had the nerve
To say out loud
How I feel about you,
I’d have the nerve
To run away
From here,
From you.

I’d have the nerve
To be me,
To be home,
And I wouldn’t know you anymore.

But I do know you
And I don’t have the nerve
And I’m bound
And I’m feeling
But I can’t say the words.

I can’t tell you anything

It would be the end of what’s mine,

The death of my secrets.

Somewhere along the way here
I lost myself
And I wanted you
and you
and you to find me

Fix me.

But instead you all wore my skin
Felt me out for a while
Used me up
And shed me

And I’m still empty
Never felt full.

And I’m still losing.

And I don’t know why I’m not crazy
I should be crazy
For all those who used my body
While I was floating vacantly
Somewhere in the in between

I should be dead.

And maybe I am
Maybe you killed me.

These empty eyes may see,
May blink
But there’s no light
There’s nothing behind them but cold

When all I wanted was saving

All I received was murder.