normally i’d be
too terrified to leave the house like this
but now i’m too mad to give a shit.
stomping out anger on flat feet & unforgiving concrete
skipping streets & just daring
cars to hit me.
do to me what i wish i had the willpower for
instead of just
meaningful self-destruction,
little scars & wrinkles in time that stain
& last forever.
tear me from
the life i’ve found running stale
like worn goods left over
with neon-orange stickers; buy now, on sale.
in this place i’ve found somehow
unique abilities like
being able to regret things that haven’t even happened yet
unfortunately i’ve found this is not
an employable skill.
tired of being
saved
tired of being looked at, lifted up,
floated just enough to survive
on caffeine old hope & smoke while i
turn my thoughts into scripture.
i think i’m
just tired of being.
today i must be feeling
optimistic for i find myself sitting on the couch
usually at times like these i’d be in the corner clinging to the floor to keep it from moving,
willing the world to stay still;
for once,
it does as i wish
& for one
sublime
second
i forget that i exist.
dancingindarkrooms 