He doesn’t feel close to anything
Friends are placeholders for emptiness
He sings to himself while watering plants
or he wants to. He doesn’t even grow plants
Does thing he regrets, does things he doesn’t
Regrets them both. Regret that he’s done it
or did it, or was, or wasn’t.
Heartbroken. For what?
How does a heart go from golden to rot
I look at pretty faces, just hoping for something
Laugh at the way people conduct themselves
Conducting in stealth.
Ask for help by pretending I don’t need it
Just need me some hope.
Establish a ground rule, establishing sound.
Down on his self.
Doesn’t brush his teeth today
Memorizes the Braille his plaque forms
Doesn’t care, kills themselves in the routine
Looks at his friends smiling
Sunshine weather is a chance to bathe himself in sun rays, stretch his back and fingers in the air
ugh. Why? Ugh. Sighs. Disagree with your opinion
don’t even bother to tell why not
doesn’t matter don’t support any of the million things people fight for
I don’t care
my war is up here in my head
it’s a tiny platform where millennia takes place
I can’t even breathe
Making non humanly noises, like a puppy moaning, upset at the sectional voices, that put him here.
Eyes watering. Sore throat. Sucks
tired and upset. The imprint of my
body in my bed has become art
I don’t even drink, or do drugs, to