pretend I am not there

I wore your jacket
out in the rain today
and it held me
and kept me dry
I felt so close to you
but walking to the store
I felt shitty
I was probably just going
to steal
and you would shake your head
if you were here

I can't keep living
my life like this
alone in my head
pretending you are here
pretending to give all of myself
to my idea of you

so I go home and lay under
a mountain of blankets in my dark room
with the door closed
when I hear my roommates come home
I pretend I am not there
when I hear them speak my name
I pretend I am not there
and there have been times in the past
even though I cared so much for him
when I pretended it wasn't happening
that
I was not there

toward forward

we are all

looking toward something

in anticipation

we are all eager to leave this moment

for the next to come

our bus is two stops away

we want it here now

even old men

dig in their pockets

and crane their necks

itching for the next minute to be gone and done with

how unfortunate

again

it's that feeling

all we have

is this

three-dimensional

collection of tissues

with which to

share

the invisible

part

that is held somewhere

beneath

secret and hiding

insubstantial

but definitive

and for me it just seems so strange

I'm really not saying this right

let me try again

nevermind

if you don't

hate yourself

at least a little bit

someone else will

be perfectly willing

to do it for you

if you have

grown accustomed

to your self-hate

you may become

oblivious to it

and others will have

nothing but praise for you

and such close proximity

to the mirror image

of your perceived self

causes discomfort

HUMAN/ROBOT

love is free

but it's hard to give away

I need

some good advice

or for time to keep me moving

keep everything moving forward

like it always does

the warmth that is inside my chest

tingles my ribcage

and I feel

so strangely human

I can hardly stand it

it paralyzes me sometimes

I stood alone

in the middle of

a bamboo grove

and just listened

I heard the leaves dance in the wind

and knew what it meant

(nothing really)

so why not?

A worn out looking man

looked me in the face today

and said, "I wish I was dead, too"

I'm restless today

I find no joy

in hearing you recount last night's events

It's not awesome

no part of me feels good

I want to sleep all day but I don't think I can manage that.

I don't want anyone to know me ever.

I am not seeking anyone's company.

My mind still returns to you.

Your name. Your name. It's always there in my thoughts.

but if we were together

I would mostly want to evaporate. Yeah, like that, I like that.

You could ask me questions and I'll answer every single one

with I don't know.

I always did that when I was a kid and my parents would get angry.

And when I had to see a therapist I did that too.

Then I realized what answers would get me out of her office

so I began using those instead. I have since broken that habit.

But mostly I just say I don't know.

reasons (It hurts but not that bad)

There must be reasons

that I lay awake

at 5 AM

fuck this

this is stupid

you asked if I was okay

and I wonder what

caused the question

I'm just curious what

brought it to your attention

I hope I didn't joke

about killing myself

don't worry, I won't

because I keep that joke

in the back of my brain

in a small box

tied with a bow

and I present it to

my grandparents at Thanksgiving dinner

just before coffee and dessert

I'm wondering

if everything I've ever said

was a lie

Sorry

whenever I feel regret

dreams usually follow

where I am screaming angrily

while pushing my head against the floor

and small children watch

terrified

and I have to apologize

and convince them I am not

a monster

SHITTY FACE

In my dreams, I see people that I know and find reasons not to talk to them.

I'm good at beatboxing though.

In real life, I see people that I know and sometimes I talk to them. Sometimes I find reasons not to talk to them.

My stomach hurts but I can't imagine what would help this.

I thought about telling you my most

troubling thoughts

but I know you're not my confidante

anymore

you have more intimate matters at hand

there's a weight around my neck

it's got your name on it

and it reminds me that I am so full of shit

so I begin every sentence with the words "To be honest..."

but no one picks up on the idea

that everything I said before might

have been a lie

Take this with a grain of salt, or treat me like a dyslexic third-grader on crack

maybe I'll go somewhere tonight

and black out

and tomorrow

we can talk about

my experiences

on the same footing

and from the outside

I will laugh at what

a fucking clown I am

I'm so sick of this thing I am

I want to merge my body with yours

but it's not cooperating

there's some

half-visible force

the one that weighs on my eyebrows

and it's holding me in place

and some kind of anti-gravity machine

has apparently been installed

in my stomach

I fill the cup when it's empty

but everything is pouring out

Thank You

Thank you

for being my friend

and I'm glad

you have not seen me

in my ugliest moments

sick or hurting myself

even though things

come in various forms

you listen to me whine

and I won't start hitting myself

like I would if I was alone

and I see the disgust

on certain people's faces

and it's the way I feel inside

but there is no

facial expression for it

Small Talk Sucks

He asked, "Are you difficult to find?"

"No, I'm usually right where I am."

You make me want to smash your skull carefully or at least hold it firmly between my hands. It is the opposite of feeling like a gray cotton cloud being torn open by skyscrapers. Rain pouring out like tears, running down the silver red reflections of the sky on the windows of the buildings.

I don't know anymore. just keep typing I guess until you memorize where the keys are and never make any mistakes. never make any mistakes. if you do it would be really bad. REALLY BAD.

I thought I was actually feeling sad but I cried for less than a minute and then I felt pathetic and then back to normal again.

sadfdasasdfasdfasdfadfasdfasdfasdfsadsadsadsadsadsadsadsadsadsadsadsad sad sad sadsadsad sadsad

sadsad sadsad sad sad sad sadsadsad sadsadsad sadsa

I feel like a piece of garbage, covered in dog piss and vomit and hobo piss and stepped on and worthless. Absolutely fucking worthless. The worst part is, I don't even feel like that. Maybe if I felt like a piece of trash I could stop caring and just relax because my life is pointless and stupid but not dull or uninteresting.

And my mind goes blank. I clench my hand into a fist and nervously pick at the skin next to my thumbnail.

I should do something but I just look with my eyes, left and then right. In a full circle. Then forward again and I frown and gently rub my front teeth together. I'm not sure if you've been watching me, but as I do this, I feel like I'm on a string,

or following some hypnotist's commands

for what I should do in response to another person being so close to me.

I am a terrible person sometimes but I know you'll forgive me for it.

And I look into your eyes to search for the answers.

What Else

I just feel like sobbing. And you can use me as an arm rest

And you can use my tears to moisten your eyes if you want

I'm drunk and honest. Ask me anything.

I'm sorry if I was too in your face

or anything.

Yeah,

I am not filled with regret.

I don't know what else to do so I just relive the same moments in my head.

My head is I don't know what else.

See you sometime.

Uncertainty

The only one who knows all my secrets is my computer.

I have a hard time describing the way I feel. It's usually something like depressed, completely lost, want to break something, or deliriously immature. I'm not sure these are emotions.

The moment I'm forced to stop tearing skin from my own cuticles for you to touch my hand I forget who I am pretending to be and who I really am and I am not always sure what the difference is. I'd just like to continue slowly making myself into a pile of dust and not have the focus of your eyes on me, burning me as I'm dreaming of silence. I always thought of heaven as flying somewhere above the clouds, soft and weightless.

I twitch when I imagine your hand touching my back, but I long for you to touch me so I can start forgetting your touch, or something.

In my head, about half the time I'm thinking, "smash your skull. smash your skull. smash your skull. smash your skull. smash your skull. smash your skull."

Sometimes I feel like I'm melting. Or collapsing.

I can't explain but I feel like pulling my knees to my chest and putting my hood on and just falling into myself. It's like looking at photographs that I'm not in, cringing to think of what my face would look like if I were in the picture.

I don't know. My teeth are so worn down I might be partially cutting my gums open at night because it's not the first time I woke up with blood in my mouth.

"Christmas is for dicks"

I just googled that and nothing came up

Friends?

Our ability to

form lasting friendships

is a function

of our ability

to comfortably

and truthfully

mock each other

X-ray

I want to get an x-ray of my face

but I'm scared

of the radiation

Still,

I get the feeling something is broken

my teeth are fucked

or my sinuses are swollen

I need to see the proof

my bones reflecting the

waves of energy

my tissues, absorbing them

painting a perfect

natural picture

in black and white

but instead of being overwhelmed,

I forget to do

anything at all

Repeater + 3 Songs

I never told you this

at all but

I bought a CD

on the night

I lost my virginity

and I never listened to it

until now.

It's punk rock

like whiskey shots

and really

I'm still a kid

asking you to hold my hand

across the street

and I can't seem

to keep a straight face

anymore

when you reach for me

and I yell

"Not it!"

and run away

and then

probably trip

and fall

and rip the skin on my palms

it's cool though

closed eyes

Kneeling at your coffee table

arms flat, wrists up

I put my head down

and shut my eyes

and slowly you move your palms

and fingers

over my forearms

I exhale deeply

and there seems to be water

running down my spine

but its just

our combined exhalations

shaking the air of the room

gently waking me

as light fills my closed eyes

I was clutching at something today

right in my center

there is a black

tangled ball

of string

if you look closely

the threads are

made of tuning forks

and mysteriously

and inconsistently

their resonance

warms my insides

but sometimes

when they are soaked in liquor

they swell and expand

until I feel the pressure

in my stomach

and I think

I have to do something

or else I'm going to die

but what I never realize

is that death was not an option

it's automatic and unchosen

like being born or

shitting your pants after

slurring your dying words

and you were never a part

of the negotiations

excuse me

while I go

someplace quieter

to punch my head

like the smile

that pulls at the corners of my mouth

when I picture myself

having a panic attack

the kind where you can't breathe

blood-lust paper cut

it's almost instinctive,

bringing your finger

to your lips

your tongue meets the cut

and the metallic taste

is sharp

for a moment

clearing the layer of dust

from a place in your memory

but somehow

the fear

and those things you felt

aren't so far away

as you watch the

red shine

fill the grooves of your fingerprint

the only people

who don't break

eye contact with you

are in advertisements

otherwise

we're forced to look away

and pretend our eyes

never met

the empty streets

or crowded trains

remind you

how slowly

the minutes pass

once you are

a one

a single

a person

yourself

all by your lonesome

somewhere