Monday, December 31, 2012


I am lying down in the middle of the living room
my mouth is open but I'm not saying anything
want to scream fuck it, really loud but I don't
want to scare the neighbors. 
Don't want to upset my dog.
I move around on the carpet.
Trying to get comfortable.
I am failing miserably.
I ingest adderall and count to ten.
If I am calm enough "You" will magically appear in front of me.
But there is no "You"
I don't know who "You" are...
Feels like I am imagining "You"
making "You" up
If I fall asleep in the middle of the living room it will be tomorrow and I will have to go to work and everything will start all over again.
I want to fall asleep and wake up five years from now.
Maybe then there will be a real "You" and my desires/life would make sense.

Being Human

I feel comfortable holding your hand, like I am not worrying about sweating too much, or moving too much. 

Like I am not worried about anything.

Five months from this very moment I will be rocking back and forth on the couch questioning my existence.

I will be checking your every status update, deleting you and re-requesting you.

I will stalk your web presence the way I traced your body with imaginary fingers.

I will poke you, and cry into a pillow “love me back or stab me I don’t care I just want something to happen.”

I talked to a friend once about my depression, I asked him what the fuck am I even doing here,
to which he replied, “being human.”

and I felt like everything made sense and I was going to be ok or something.