Stale
I have gone stale
On the inside
Failed
To connect
In my mind
I reject
Disappointment
Lingering,
Drowning
In those halls of whispers,
Which I condemn,
Wanting to leave
Leave
Leave
Leave it all behind.
All at once.

Don’t leave me here alone
Where I can’t see
Where the light won’t consume me whole
When it was never meant to be

I’ve wished on a shooting star
that isn’t really there
And God forbid I stay in that
Place where no one really cares

But I can’t run forever
From this inevitable cave in
A hundred shattered glasses
With bloodstains that I kin

Melted sand, whatever,
it’s my own ****** loss
But not even the fine print
Ever told me the cost

To being alive
To waking up per day

So if I stay in the darkness
Don’t be surprised if I don’t come out again.

My eyes droop and tire
I stare in your direction
Longing for you to move
And come back to me

The trees burn and wilt
My hair grows into mats
I cant seem to let go.

My feet stay in place
Soft trinkles of water
Crashes of droplets hit
The uneasy tub

Days pass
I find myself waiting,
Again.

Large knots
In my scalp
Leave me crying
As I can't brush them out.

I'm worn and stained
I'm bruised and rotten
You throw me out
And the fly of your memory buzzes in my ear.

Tired is an emotion,
It's a wavering between sad,
And paranoid.
Exhausted because you couldn't sleep,
You were worrying about everything,
About her, about you, about life, the future too.
You keep worrying,
Until you pass out from lack of sleep,
And not even writing helps.
Because there's nothing to write about,
You feel the same every passing day,
But you can't write the same thing for days in a row.
New work, is there new work?
I'm working on it,
Drowning in thoughts,
Wish I could drown it out,
I can't out-think myself.
Though I wish I could,
My mind is a faucet,
But there's no turning it off.

There's nothing like
waking up at dawn.
The plants and the trees
are bare.
Each blade of grass
is either brown or green.
The quiet demands silence.
Even the cats
that follow
me outside
lower their heads
to show some respect
to the quiet.

I collapse, surrendering
to the rocking chair
My eyes still heavy
from only having a few hours of sleep.
The pills haven't worn off yet.

A half-smoked cigar is in my hand.
I take it to my lips
flick the Bic
and give it a long kiss.
Inhaling enough smoke
to fill my lungs.
Leaning back in the chair
I release a stream
of smoke.
Sitting there watching
nothing happen.
It feels good.

Until my mind starts up again.
Like a record on repeat.
The static
and flashes of
all the episodes
with every word
drowning my brain
with loads of cheap whiskey.
I question myself,
Will I be able to make it today?
Can I outrun
this hurricane
at least for
another day?

It's awkward being around so
much stillness and having a
tornado inside.
From a perspective of
someone people watching
I'd just look like a normal lady
sitting outside enjoying
their morning cigar.
They're partially right,

It was a **** good cigar.

I didn't have the energy to shine.
I didn't have the strength to put on my shining armour,
and I couldn't spend the evening smiling and laughing with you,
if overnight I'd be crying alone.

What are friends for, if not to help you through.
If they become nothing but a load,
are they even friends anymore?

I've been spending my whole life circling around this question.
Going through every excuse, trying to change and twist its truth.

But I no longer have the energy to lie,
I no longer can put on a smile and hope for the best.

Because I can't be others prince in shining armor,
while inside, I am still the frog,
and the princess to be saved.