speaking the words i’d heard in my head
he said
in a language once familiar:
we can’t just…
casually pretend to collect our things
without realizing
we can’t keep slowly creeping towards
faded perfection
the words are a weight
because i know them true;
cross luck off my list
closure came right through my window
& i found myself thanking the sky quietly how i
was able to experience what i could
before i gave it away.
while i was wondering,
worrying,
waiting it out..
not noticing,
ignoring,
& ever-neverminding..
i became convinced that the clock ran out of time
instead of just batteries.
the boxes on the calender in which i couldn’t fit
made trade for some petals i blew away;
small moments in time that could have belonged to
anyone.
i fill my time full with regrets;
full of un-crossed-off lists that stack & turn yellow,
full of thoughts of things i didn’t do but should’ve,
things i’ve unwittingly given up, the
things i can never get back.
some have been gone for so long
i’ve forgotten they once had names.
but instead of reflecting &
gathering what is left of my gold i am
watching my reflection fading,
waiting
worrying
remorsing &
letting the thieves sneak back in through the window to
swallow up the rest.
i am taking pictures
i am
taking my time
i am trying to remember the life i left
the place i used to live
i used to promise if i found my way back here
i’d find myself
but now i’m here & the world is hollow
i can speak but my voice is silent & so, why bother?
i play the same song on repeat & mourn for the girl i used to be
sometimes i get glimpses of her
hypomanic & for a minute i don’t feel like dying,
i feel like…
nope, no, nothing,
gone again, too late,
every time i get my hopes up they’re dashed on the rocks
i try to convince myself
when i find my way out of this, whatever you call this —
i will be
that.
much.
stronger;
i’m so convinced
i even tattooed it on my back,
permanent ink but perhaps
i should have put it somewhere i could see it
because i’m starting to forget.
dancingindarkrooms 