sad

she whispers everything she wants you to say
into your open ears
and you relay it onto everyone.

you are conscious of everything you say
and yet your mouth continues to run
no matter how bad the words are
that issue from your mouth

maybe because you believe they should be
relayed
maybe because they're true
or maybe you're out to destroy yourself.

i'm sure it's just that.

everyone's too good for you.
self-hate was once a fashion statement
and long after it went out of style
you still harbored it

often you believe
the right idea
is to be totally absent, removed
cut all the strings that tie you to
the ground.

give up and stay down.
become an object rather than a thought.
never let yourself feel.

but then
when world's become horizontal
when there's a constant tether
a constant canvas at your fingertips
you imagine a future
of togetherness
of drawing infinite maps,
owning something other than yourself
taking care, taking charge
of everything.

torn between two extremes
two differences.

unhappy and happy
both at once.

blessed at birth to destroy oneself
is your fate.