you seem refreshed.
how long did you sleep for, again?

                           the kind of tired that makes it all too easy to pretend
                                                                                   take away this brain
                                                           help me unload it down the drain

it is raining.
didn’t you just pray for the sun to stop shining?

                                             the possible last shower of this september
                                              these many showers, the dates, the time
                                                                   correlating with everything
                                                                        it’s almost as if it’s a sign

                   it feels like it might finally start getting chilly, onwards.
                                                                the weather is alright though
                       cooler than ever, it feels like it wasn’t even yesterday
                                                              where i bellowed about the heat
                                                    stood under the shower, turned it cold
                                                                              no matter how feverish

                                              don’t make me say a single word, please.
                                                                   let me sit by you, in the quiet
                                                                  it never really is quiet within

hmm,
have you ever drifted to sleep in presence of the silent comfort?

                                                                           the storm’s a significance
                                           way of expressing it is all that i’ve become
                                  blistering with circular hives rising on my skin
                                                       doesn’t hurt as much as it should
                                                but then for once to be an empty canvas
                                                                  rather than an overdone one?

                                                                             the screen’s too blurry
                                           dunno if it’s cause of the rain or my vision
                                                                                                it’s all i got
                                                       "hey lord, you know i need to stay?"

who do you talk to and why most of it to yourself?

                             if it has you thinking it could be the play of anyone
                                                                  it ought to have been planned,
                                                  not everything is written by their wand

                                                                                           empty opening,
                                                                                                 in the deep,
                                     surrounded by the borders that stand up tall
               lying in the grave, feeling them throw flowers on the casket
                i do not recognize, wonder how they call themselves mine

you ever feel like you don’t belong anywhere?

                                                           in the moment, you belong to time
                                                                                       and overall to life
                                                       but do you belong to someone else,
                                                          and not like in a state of possession
                                                                                   but art of the mind?

as the final act of—?
                                                                     no arguing and no takebacks
                           hiding behind the curtain, quietly taking a step back
                                                                        the stage was never mine
                                        the crowd cheered for someone entirely else
                                                                how i found my way till here?
                                                                    it was probably all a mishap
                                                                                               so i disappear
                                     and they call out my name, but i can’t answer
                                                  who do they ask for? she never existed
                              all of it was in the moment where it was cherished

why multiple bags? put a few away, or let me hold—?

                                                      even though i carry multiple pockets
                                                                things are falling off my hands
                               people are watching— they are always watching
                                                          there’s only so much you can carry
                                                             and only so much you can mend
                                                             not the burdens but pitiful rocks,
                                                              don’t freeload them off in places
                                               shift them, arm to arm, pocket to pocket
                                                                         and when it gets too hard,
                                      settle down or put away some of the baggage
                                                                       never learned to however,
                                                                    so i've been making mistakes


where do you hide when you disappear?

                                               at the heights, in the hug-offering corners
                                 in places, in people, in enchanted treasure chests
                    there’s the view of stardom, of areas discovered by none
                                                                        if you see me somewhere,
                                      quietly drifting by as if i was never here at all
                                                                                               don’t call out
                                                                         mix in the crowd with me,
                                                  need not face it head first, not this time.