Thursday, July 30, 2009

Day 2. Realization.

Talking to people during these stages turns useless. The thought of ignoring them sets in minutes before their words leave their lips. Sentences lost in space with out making a hit on their targets ears. Welcome to your body in a nervous breakdown. Pass out, it might feel better to come to feeling like you’re seeing everything for the first time again.

Now you wish you would have thought what you are thinking now, then. The evidence was left everywhere to be found; You don’t even need to take the prints for this one. Gazing at the sky never answered so many questions…there still aren’t enough answers. It’s the only time you feel alone, on the verge of sleep and being wide-awake day dreaming about dreaming. The world isn’t big enough for all the secrets you’re keeping.

People will tell you things to make you feel better about your self. Things that might be genuine, but little do they know that they don’t know you at all. Quick fixes only last you so long until you’re coming down and you need something else to pick you up. Your drug: their pain, your cure: your pain. It’s the only way you know to live. It’s the only way you’re going to die.

How does it feel to know that people were right about you? They called it from a mile away. You didn’t know you were wearing a sign that said “royally fucked” that can be read 20 miles down the highway. It’s not hard to see why they know. Looking in the mirror has never felt so dissatisfying. You’re all you know. Nothing ever came of what you were supposed to be.

Go to sleep, day 2 is over. How many more days until you stop feeling this way? The clocks hand punches you square in the mouth, minute after minute, second after second. Spit out your teeth, each one of them wouldn’t even amount to the secrets you hold inside of me.

Your mouth tastes human. Your mind feels wasted.

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