I-57

The blue/black sky makes me think of my childhood.
It's simple
But feels as if it goes on forever,
Full of wondrous stars and memories.


My eyes burn from staring straight forward.

I want to walk until I can't feel my legs.
Until the wind whips just hard enough at my face.
Until my cheeks start to lose the warmth they usually possess.
My toes won't be able to keep balance anymore.
My lips won't be able to form words.
My eyes will blink fast, pushing back tears
That were brought forth by fear and the chilled air.
My movement will slow into a stand still.
My brain will void all doubt. All thought.
My heart won't be able to handle the cold air.
My heart won't be able to handle your cold nature.
It will make one last leap of faith and plummet,
Desperately groping for something to hold on to all the way down.
I will stop trying.
I will stop failing
I will stop worrying.
I want to stop worrying.


But instead, I came inside.
Instead, I sat down.

As much as I wish I could,
I will never be able to leave.

You are my greatest weakness.

The thought came to me before I could stop myself.
I was scared that I had thought it but my fear did not change my mind.


"What's the point?"

3:51 AM

I love being cold.
I adore breathing in the stimulating midnight air.
To feel my comforter tangled with my sheets and my limbs.
Although, it is not comforting yet as it is just as cold as the air surrounding us,
Once my body shares some of its warmth
The comfort will paralyze me for as long as I wish.

My body longs for November.

Revel in the songs of the cicadas.
They will lull you into slumber deeper than any fairytale.

yearning

-noun
1. deep longing especially when accompanied by tenderness or sadness.
2. an instance of such longing.

-synonyms
1. see desire

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1:41 AM

My tired, mascara smeared eyes
Underneath my lazily disheveled mass of hair that sits on top of my head like a bowler hat.
Like a certain Mr. Fudge once wore. My mind is weary and sporadic.
Empty headphones rest in my ears with traces of such "folk" and "indie pop" still ringing.
Genres awkwardly assigned.
My sheets are a mess as I have not been able to get comfortable for days.
Clumsy thoughts ache through me.
Irrational attraction overpowers my better judgement. Consumes my rationality.
The hunger for reciprocated thoughts gnaws at my insecurities.

I'm dramatic.

Wilt

Someday the sun will shine through the moss covered cracks and expose the intricate creatures that try to stay hidden below.


The rays are too strong for your garden,
The heat too much for your flower beds.