Saturday, March 10, 2012

some days

God
some days
god
what is wrong with me
and wouldn't your mother be proud
and is it so hard to be mildly happy
or at least somewhat neutral feeling
the thought of being around friends
or acquaintances
really sounds undesirable
and I know I would not want to talk or smile
and because of that I would make a bad impression
or maybe hurt someone's feelings
and I feel like a child
the one who was called moody
and was such a bother
you think a simple answer
wouldn't be an ordeal
and it smells like fucking burning rubber in here
and yeah why not feed into everything bad I feel
I can't lay in bed anymore watching Futurama
and I can't even have a beer with this stupid medicine
seriously is something burning

Wednesday, March 7, 2012

when I was 5
and I would crawl under my bed
and breathe softly
into the dark
cramped dusty space
until I fell asleep
it was nice
everything confined to that space
and nothing existed
outside of it for a moment
I felt safe and happy
and undisturbed
until I awoke to my mother
calling my name
I saw the light switched on
her feet on the carpet
I would wait until
she turned and walked away
to crawl out into the world again