things can matter just to me
things can matter just to me
things can matter just to me
things can matter just to me
things can matter just to me
things can matter just to me
things can matter just to me
things can matter just to me
things can matter just to me
things can matter just to me
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things can matter just to me
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things can matter just to me
things can matter just to me
things can matter just to me
things can matter just to me
things can matter just to me
-
(this experiment still didn’t help)
-
shower me in praise
maybe then
i’ll be happykeep it up
ad infinitumso i can stay happy
so i won’t forget
that i am worth beingshower me in praise
so i don’t have to myself
and feel like a narcissist doing itshower me so that i can bathe in the resulting stream
so that i can wash off self hatred
so that i can stop feeling so much pressure
to be creativeso that on some days
i can just wake up
and move from point A
to point B
and not have to make it mean a goddamn thingshower me until i drown
until i swallow it
until i choke on itshower me
until i don’t need itplease
[and if the poets do not eek out all the words
who willfor this?]
-
“Cannot we just always be happy?”
If there were nothing in the mourning
we could not have at peace
then I’d agreeas it is
I think
compassion only grows in grief
compassion only learns another’s name
suffering.“What about a world with no suffering? Is that not the place compassion too compels us toward? Is it, therefore, no holy aim?”
I’ll answer.
Once compassion finds
compassion’s aiming end — it obliterates
& all its excess energy imparts
itself to life
and living it. -
i feel a heavy cry
pale
and watery
bricks
a sun is setting
dragging out and down
the entire blue sky
why does it run away from me?
what did i do?i feel a heavy cry
eking barely out
i want release
i want release
my heart is Vesuvius
i wish
to be covered me in ash//make known to the world
what i hide inside
my heart is Vesuvius
cover me in ash -
him along
I still limp him along
he in my head
words on my tongue
half are mine half are his
hard to say
which is whichI still limp him along
when I get drunk
when I scold the young
or love someoneI limp him along
in the sounds that I make
wishing all my pain awayI limp him along
through the cries of a cat
the smell of his clothes, and the cloves that he smoked in them
I wish came backoh I limp along
oh I limp along
I would think more of it
and of after it
were it not for himI’m glad to know he knows its answers
& glad to know I do not know them -
(someday)
i want to (someday)
be alive for the joy
of living//not for the other people
not for the other sake of
not letting all of all of the people down//not anticipating
some payout
not for the hope of
not for tomorrowi want to (someday)
be alive
for the sake
of being alive
and wanting to be