I waited for months for you to say anything, and when you do its to say you miss me and want me around. But you don’t realize I feel like I bother you, like anytime I ever talked to you was just you humoring yourself at my expense, and so I just end up waiting for the day you tell me when it is that you do want me around, and it doesn’t come… it never fucking comes. So I’m done, because I don’t know how to be anything else. I’m sorry, and I don’t even know why.
Everything I say makes me look stupid, and I know that. I know that because in the most insecure way, I’m looking for attention. But I don’t know where to look, because I’ve based my entire life on the words and actions of other people. I’m tired of speaking, I’m tired of drawing, I’m tired of singing, I’m tired of waking up and moving, I’m tired of being scared that I’m not a real person at all. I contemplate death on a daily basis, and that scares me, because I’m not sure if I’ve ever really lived. I don’t know why I’m typing this, I think it makes me feel as if I’m accomplishing something, but I know I’m not. I still haven’t learned to talk to you, I promised myself I would; no matter what I do I can’t seem to intrigue you, I can’t come close. The truth is I came back for you, because no matter how long I was gone you were still there in the center of my mind. I came back for you, and you went with him. I haven’t got a clue what I’m doing writing this anyways, you’re never going to even see it. My lights are turning off now, they wont be on again.
A minuscule crack of light splits between the shutters of my eyes subtly separating the world from the translucent outline of the water, ripples form over the glossy finish as the wind brushes the hair across my face. There’s a curtain of nothing in between me and my horizon, only the water dimly lit by this crack of light stretching from the darkness above touches the edge in every direction. There’s warmth within the light, but the cold seeps in through the souls of my feet. I walk through the water for what feels like days to I find a small area of soil barely covered by a thin layer of the clear water that I’m slowly growing fond of, it’s here that I plant the seed of an angel oak tree.
There’s something magic within the water, it caresses the life deep inside the small shell and spreads it across the void that it might grow with the speed and ferocity of a world that it will never know, the outstretching limbs lift me high twisting and cracking into place across the expanse and creak to a sudden stop as they fade into the nothingness around me. I am high above the water now, the light stretching from above however is no closer than before. My dreams and ambitions flow from my body into the branches supporting my weight, I know now that I am together with this tree, this water, this light, and I am alone, this is my place of clarity, my place of simplicity, my place of thought.
I have become accustomed to this place within my mind, here I am safe, here I can look deep into mine own self, nothing can touch me here and yet my heart could break at any moment thanks to the inner most workings of my soul. I am perfectly content within my insanity, it saves me the troubles of truly being alone.
probably my favorite right now,