yet more often than not, left uncontemplated
intentions as pure as dry ice
left to stick to skin shifting movements across its surface
gray clouds gaze upon the debris
that I chose to create in the first place
hallowed eyes and gaunt cheeks
observances left untethered
“the world is a cruel place for people like me
unless I choose to be crueler.”
the maxim has been known all along,
why had it not come sooner?
i stay up until two in the morning pondering
upon undisclosed secrets left underneath the staircase of my mind
rewinding rewind upon rewind of mind-boggling timetables
staring at paint drying while dying to pass the time.
“what is this even about?” I ask.
silence meets me at its gates
and I come to realize that realizations
are overrated like overtly branded gourmet ice cream.
“I love myself more than I love you,” I try to tell myself.
it’s not true if you lie to your face everyday, more than to them.
bells ring and I stare at blank screens, empty wallets and mental signposts:
“but I believe in some form of magic, I just don’t know if I’m the right wizard.”
detrimental elemental mental elementary mathematical calculable
adjectives defunct in the land before time
phenomena scorching, blazing hotter than the sun
which i’ve been staring directly at since i was a little kid in kindergarten.
i cope by writing stanzas when i feel things that make me want to
curl up into a ball, big bones notwithstanding.
my friends think i’m a fraud for doing what i think is right
i think i just think i don’t know if i’m in the right for what i’m doing.
what am I loyal to? God, what am I worshipping?
language games have been played
while formulas confound me until now
and i still haven’t found sufficient reason for me to have found one