stranger's disease

"i wish i believed you when you said that this was my home"



living alone

living alone wouldn't fix my loneliness i suppose. but i think i would be better because i could be able to share it. with myself. have some true, naked-soul, silent moment with myself. maybe i'd come to terms with silence and affront my fears of being deaf. i'd have plants and a balcony and candles. i'd smoke in the living room next to a standing fan. i'd watch reruns of my favorite movies. i'd write poetry for all the people i'll never date. i'd watch topology lectures at midnight and take down notes. i'd pin pictures to the walls and write mirrors. i guess it wouldn't fix my loneliness, but it would sure look envying.

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in contrast

i think i wanted to say
to admit maybe
that the beginning of this year
and the ending of it
were the same.
they weren't.
at all.
i don't remember anything before july.
i feel as if those warm months were lost
drowned in alcohol
but they weren't-
                               i just
        erased the good memories.

i guess i remember my scarred skin.
my long hair and my broken nails.
my lean, clean feet.
my bruised legs.

now i only know
scarred hands and feet.
good skin, short hair
pale as a sheet.
there's an exhaustion buried deep within me.
bigger than the anger.
bigger than the hate.
oh how times have changed.
i feel like there's 

but i'm still,
i'm still
so alone

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field trip

i want to play the strings;
ice cold waters i suppose
they'll work as blankets.
some souls come here
but they don't stay long.
they shape and slash our bodies
they stab and wound our
helping hands
in that grand gesture
we open our arms with gratitude.
death to me is not a mystery.
it is, after all, the only destiny.
we will carry as much as we can
on this vessels of ours.
stop trying to find the reason
in the mirror.

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crushed alarms

But then she hopes 
down her sandpaper throat
she muffles all the screams. 
It's all about hope, you know.
About the channeling of resources
Of hard work and that FUCKING
I've put it off many times.
Everyone has left me alone again
except for like, two people.
Her inner self is crying like
a 41-year-old 
after her life has built up to nothing.
She's as important 
as the dead skin on your soles
And it wears her out like rubber.
appalling is the noise
of paper thin walls
and conversations filled with anger
Oh yesterday they held this kingdom
now it's falling down to pieces.
I wish there were no windows. 
However, I'm blind.
I can't see what I don't 
want to see.
I have been blinding out people
to protect my hopes, intact
and to protect myself from nothingness
(Which abounds inside me)
        (I'm as weary as a five-year old
alarm clock)
she SNAPS into pieces
even when everyone thought
she could hold it together.
"try not to drown me into oblivion"

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leaving clues

i'm leaving clues of my age somewhere
i'm kind sure i'll regret this soon
these clothes have hidden me for days
i might just wear them just to break in
my hands are printed with dust
but not the kind of dust we'd hope for
looking back i'm somewhere in between
the life i wish i had,
and the worst nightmare i've slept through.
new years i guess,
they always come.



widened mind

i've been living in somebody else's nightmare
i wish i could just wake up and erase the past nine months
wash me away like bleached water
running down the clogged drain

i am trapped inside the responsibility of living
i suppose i shouldn't stretch this so much
but there's no possibility of sunrise
when i can't see anyone smile

the sun will burn our skin
even in the foggiest days.
the storm has come and
will take us away.

i know i've been here before,
i just don't know when.
i wish i could scream i'm dying,
but there would be nothing left to say.



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