Return to myself

I am trying to return to myself
but in my way
stands a forest
of every tree I have ever climbed
or thought of climbing
and I regret now
that my dreams feel ever so small
wrapped tightly in eucalyptus leaves
and bound with a wisp
of dry wood smoke
warm-feeling like a memory

There is an organ
within my body
of soft sweet innocence
and with it
I have mourned the loss
of my childhood
I have longed to erase
the false truths I have told myself
I have tried to return to myself

The heavy mist of optimism
seems to have dissipated
but on days like today
there is just enough moisture in the air
to breathe deeply

keeping calm

I want to go outside
and sing silky ribbons
of melody that float in
through your window
on a warm night

Things have never been quite
the same since
we stopped dunking our heads
in buckets of distraction
and empty, frivolous joy
opened our eyes
despite the fear

Sometimes I felt better
alone in dark quiet
but I know my foot is inches
from that stagnant infectious pool
threatening to fall in

And I am good
at keeping calm
in the most inappropriate of times

O'o

Yesterday I listened
to the last recorded sounds
of a now-extinct bird
   first calling a mate
      then after a storm took her away
his lone call
and the space where her answer should have been
was so heavy
   O please, O please
   let me find her
   let me hear her voice
silence seemed to say
I've never perceived so much
from an empty moment
and I felt so much regret
for being a human
on this sad earth
that just never saw us coming

it's not so hard to smile

at a stranger

or a friend

to be infected briefly by joy

but they go on

and I feel a heavy

stillness

that weighs somber

and thick in silence

or cold darkness

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

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

My favorite word is no

no work tomorrow

no calculus ever

no sadness

no frustration

no running late

no being mean

no crying for no reason

no realizing you're out of shampoo when you're already in the shower

no regrets

no need for money

no dying

no falling to your knees in despair

no wrong size shoes too late to return

no dirty dishes

no forcing a smile

no hating strangers for no reason

no detached-feeling ache

no bad days

no bad days

no bad days

no bad days

GROW UP

hey i made a zine
send me your address if you want one

Even if it's not about you, it is

I'm not sure

who I would be

if not for you

probably the same mess

you met last year

drunk and destructive

and pretending

to be just fine

I am so thankful

to feel better at all

and even though

I sometimes fall back

into shadows

you are always there

waiting

bringing light back

to my eyes

It is unusual

for me

to be able to have a conversation

so honest

maybe it was the dark

of the car

that provided cover

and our eyes forward to the road

no anxiety-inducing permanence

our momentum

not allowing

any second

to become more important

than the approaching one

and the comfort

I felt was strange

discussing my inherent

mistrust of people

and at the same time

noting its absence between us

heavy head

My head and heart

feel heavy

and I feel sad

and scared

about the passage of time

and for a moment

I missed my mom very intensely

and I missed being a child very intensely

time gives me nightmares

vague nightmares

where something terrifying and

irreversible has happened

The feeling is the same as the one I get

when I am

for a moment

suddenly aware that there is a beginning

and an end

and I can only struggle to control

some part in the middle

resolve

to sit and feel and
not imagine myself stared at
in judgement
to speak only in first person
using piano keys
or guitar strings
and feel it all
and show it all
to forget fear and
embarrassment
to remember all that I am
and once was
to know how special
and small I am
to not worry about
the loneliness that
inevitably comes to me
to be drunk
on laughter
and silly headed
like a child
on nothing but the
pure fact
of existence

Fuse pronounced foo-say

words and names
get stuck in my head
and I repeat them
to
stop thinking
be a machine
linguistically minded machine
that can objectively describe
what I feel
and not be embarrassed
or panicked
or overwhelmed
in a way that makes me
feel like a speck of dust
on top of a fresh
pile of dog shit
that you just stepped in

You smell like piss

from the bus
I saw three
probably homeless people
sitting at a bus stop
for some reason
I had to keep
looking
they looked calm
and I could practically smell
the piss
and for a moment
it made me feel soft
and sad
for how desperate we all are
just to be loved
every word and action
is fueled by longing
and the fear
of being unwanted and alone

poop filled

my favorite music
sounds like a night terror
only I don't realize it
until someone else
is around to hear it
to me
its like sunshine and
sugar crystals
filtering through tiny
speakers

Giant

I dont know who ever told you
I was cool
or that
there is such a thing
at times
I feel so pathetic
and I can't imagine
I will ever be okay
but when
I slowly fell off my bed
and we just stared
for an hour maybe
and couldn't stop smiling
I knew
everything was fine
I traveled to the future
and that moment
stood taller
than the rest
it was a giant

Cordyceps is fucking nuts

In the dark
smelling wet earth
sadness sprouting from my head
like parisitic fungus
so I dig
and go deeper into
the black
turning my back on the light
and try to smother this thing
that aches in my chest
and maybe collapse
into myself
and then I keep digging
even though
my fingers are bleeding
and why am I doing this
and there's dirt in
my eyes
my hair
my nose
I'm coughing
and sinking
but it's all for the hope
that when I emerge
I will be
someplace
or
someone
different

maybe it's like this

I used to be a swimmer
charging my limbs
against the steady water
sometimes lifting my head
to gasp for air
each lungful
pumping regret
through my veins
now,
I'm lying on my back
in an ocean
effortlessly
letting my body
rise and fall with
the sigh of each
crest and lull
and only occasionally
does my head go underwater

I am having a dream
where I am a balloon
on a string
in your hand

you keep letting go
but grabbing the string again
just before it escapes
and I float away forever

I find it a bit cruel
but also comforting
like being tickled
I hate it
but
all it means
is that I am inescapably close to you

smile

when people
see me on the street
and I'm walking alone
they probably think
I'm an angry or unhappy
or maybe mean-spirited person
and it's because
most of the time
smiling really does nothing for me
and contorting my face in that way
is only necessary
in social settings
something about
showing your teeth
and maybe squinting your eyes a little
indicates you are a nice person
and worthy of friendship
or other benevolent interactions

I keep feeling
like a different person
every few months now

I just want
to be a relic
a specimen
put in resin or under glass
and you will know I'm outdated
by all my dead ends and incompletes

and stillness and silence
will be just what is expected of me

I'll be perfect

Guilt and Terror

were the words
I was searching for
in the ten thousand
thoughts flying
around
in my head
like so many birds
or a swarm of locusts
I felt cursed
or at best
a hopeless wreck

the regret fills the void
in my soul
and the fear
freezes my lungs and heart

some days I
find it very hard
just to breathe

nausea

high heels
make sounds
so as to turn heads

if you
feel satisfied
being the
peacock's feathers
it's fine

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