while listening to sleeping at last

um. not sure if this is needs a trigger warning, but just to let you know, this poem gets pretty angry, and lonely, and stuff.


go. get your headphones on. because i want a stranger to sing me lullabies until my brain goes out like an unattended candle at midnight. because i’m tired. because the difference between music and poetry is that music flies and poetry wanders across the ground and i’m willing to get vertigo if music takes me now.  because i don’t know what to write so rather than writing i’m trying to build a wall of fire around myself and drenching the world in so much gasoline it has no choice but to keep burning. but it’s hard because every time i open my mouth the tears beckon like an ocean that’s always there in the background but tonight i want to swim just to feel the saltwater wash away the cobwebs of yesterday just get away from myself. tonight i want to feel something innocent again. but tonight i’m not innocent again. tonight it feels like trust is just a hammock i could never fall asleep in without getting backache. tonight i’m angry that my life is a mountain range i cannot push across the continents. i’m angry and i was only building a wall of fire to keep you out. i didn’t realize my own fury would burn me down. i’m tired and i want to believe perfection is possible because it’s easier somehow. i’m tired and i want to believe it’s possible to turn yourself into the kinda lantern that glows brightest when it’s needed the most, but if we only offer light when the world is falling apart, does that mean that happily ever after is the kind of friend that  leaves you; the kind of sugar that rots you from the inside; the kind of jewel you can’t even touch to figure out? does that mean i’ll never be able to learn how to starfish float in the atlantic ocean otherwise known as my soul? does that mean i’ll never learn to stop fearing the loch ness monster that sometimes pops its head up out of the water in the middle of the fiercest storms only to look back at me, like it’s tired of hiding and it’s lonely, and maybe it just wants someone who understands what it feels like to have pushed everything it loved away and still feel angry. maybe it just wants to feel like more than the shadow of a future we’ve never even seen before, and it’s then that i run. because running is safer than walking into your arms not knowing whether your promises of safe and home and safe and home are just a booby trap. are just easy things to say. are just empty message-in-the-bottles you dropped over the edge not thinking they would reach me specifically. because… i was only trying to swim across myself. i didn’t realize i needed to bring a lifejacket. and an anchor. and a boat.


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