i know being lost.
been walking around
these woods for a while now,
same trees and same moss.
remind me again
what side does it grow on,
the south or the north?
it's not like the difference
makes any difference,
but it might make me feel
a little bit better.
same traps
and same hunting spots.
i can't really tell
a noose from a ladder,
that's probably
why i'm still here.
been trying to see
the sun for a while now,
but there's nothing but leaves.
eventually everyone leaves.
i know being lost.
taught myself
the art of surviving
all on my own,
but i'm getting tired.
my water is gone,
my food is expired.
still hoping to find a way out
out of spite,
wondering what it would feel like
to be underground.
out of sight,
out of mind.
been walking around
these woods for a while now.

there's an anchor weighing me down.
it won't let me change the course,
but it also won't let me drown.
it makes sure that the water stagnates
as rust compromises the fuel tanks.
losing buoyancy at a rising rate,
somehow staying afloat just to spite me.
i should find the leak and ignite it,
i should let someone else decide now,
but i've been patching holes in the hull.
some would call it a waste of time,
i guess i'm not ready to drown yet.

there's no crime that can't be presented
as some kind of heroic action.
if you've something to say against it,
then you're plotting an insurrection.
then no matter how loud you're screaming
at those giving their lives to get drafted,
you're a traitor that stands on the front lines
while the patriots watch from a distance.
every word can be framed as a slogan,
every question's a sign of resistance.
as the crowd splits in different directions,
there's no evil that can't be presented
as some kind of heroic action.

sometimes you sit in the dark all alone
and it's not a guiding light that you want,
but for someone to be there with you,
to know that they know the dark, too,
to have them keep you company.
for the light can become a trap, you see,
like a constant pressure to push through,
so you'd rather have someone stay with you
to practice counting each other's breaths.
there's a sense of hope to mutual setbacks,
tethered by the unseen hand you're holding
as you co-write a step-by-step guide to coping.

there is peace to be found in stillness,
watching life play out from a distance
like a belated guest that joined halfway through,
like none of this pain belongs to you
and you could stand up and walk away
anytime if you wished to.
when you see yourself on the screen, does it move you?
do you want to step in and interrupt it,
knowing exactly what's going to happen?
of course, you can always edit it later
before it gets sent to storage,
before you decide which one you like better.
for you are the viewer and the director,
making commentary on your own lack of skill;
an omnipotent deity, if you will.
now that's a comparison you could get behind,
but it's all taking place inside of your mind
and the next scene's coming up soon.
it's a shame you've missed on so much of the plot
worrying about small mistakes.
now you know that nobody else seems to care,
so just take a seat and enjoy the view
like none of those fears belong to you,
watching life reveal itself in the distance.
there is hope to be found in stillness.

this body doesn't belong to you.
you want to crawl out of it,
and the only think you can think of
is how good it would feel
to just peel it off
and disappear.
you can hear them talk about you,
every word is like a slap in the face.
you feel small in this open space,
but their laughter resonates
and all the exits are locked.
so you try to make sense of it,
try to teach yourself their ways,
try to follow the rules of their game.
they say you can't win if you don't play,
but you haven't won yet.
this body isn't the one you chose.
you wish you could give it back,
write a complaint to the maker,
but they don't accept returns.
so you live through your thoughts,
dreaming of the day
when you can change your clothes,
your address, your name,
finally peel it off
and disappear.

you know you're touch starved
when you start having dreams
of hugging someone
and of being hugged.

i have one at least once a week.