Nostalgia hijacks unnecessarily
bleeding into a bloodless heart
where I feel peculiar
outside of my puppet body
the force dragging me to the next location
the next goal
the next unfulfilled dream.
I do not feel alive. I do not feel like I am breathing.
My stomach rises, but my hopes crash.
Every lock crunches together when I run into a bad thing
I shut myself off to protect myself
from an inevitable feeling that will not matter
once I'm beyond the earth
once I'm packed in a grave
and shipped off to the next meaningless life.

i hate that im not sleeping with you tonight
i finally warmed up to the comfort of being near someone somewhat close for a long amount of time
obviously it doesnt have to be specifically with you for me to feel that comfort
but i know ill crave it until i find someone that im remotely comfortable with
even though i panicked i still liked the idea that i was next to someone
and now i feel a little empty with no body shifting beside me
(and sleeping with their mouth open to collect air rushing in)

still i felt desolate
while singing miley's "the climb"
while laying on the pavement
with her watching the stars
while blurring the lights of el paso
behind my sights
because while i love who im with
im not in love
and i constantly wonder
what its like to be with someone
who loves you back
all the same.

the world is mind numbingly quiet
the streets drenched in nostalgic sepia,
the kind that ushers you into a movie moment reeling in
under the notes of a power ballad
and all of a sudden you just feel
alive but detached from your life.
your body is immobile in a moving vehicle,
your brain takes pictures
of the people that is around you,
and you realize that their life
is not yours.
they are under impressions of sunrises
and the shading of trees in the summer's sleep,
while you exist
because of the way the street appears
at night beneath the empty moon.

I am the typewriter and you were
backspacing backspacing backspa
all my words as if I had never said them.
You knew I meant
every letter I slammed down
furiously into the keyboard
writing about you
about your lack of making time
closing me off last minute
ignoring any plans we made at all.
I don't get why you had to leave my
thoughts as if they were not validated.
If someone cared for you as much as I do,
I sure hope you don't backspace on them
before they can get a word out.

Whoever swoops into my heart next
please don't make a nest
and then fly away when you're ready to be on your own.
Don't use me as a shelter
to keep you from the drowning rain
and expect me to feed you
when nothing else is living.
It’s hard holding a home sturdy
sufficiently well for my aching soul.
The branches are already trembling
the weeping wind echoing
lost, diminished cries
of the ones who took off.
I know I push you away
when you get too close,
but this is where you fight to hold on longer.
I keep losing the ones I love
because they have not loved me
enough to stay.