nobody boy_

51 14 8
                                    

1:49am, feeling unsure.

life exists behind a fog, passing me by with a painful slowness and a staggered intensity that I can never truly touch / nobody:nowhere:nonexistent / I feel used and kicked at, half-heartedly, looking up from underneath short lashes, sleeping behi...

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

life exists behind a fog, passing me by with a painful slowness and a staggered intensity that I can never truly touch / nobody:nowhere:nonexistent / I feel used and kicked at, half-heartedly, looking up from underneath short lashes, sleeping behind my own gaze till my eyes go white.

it's autumn in the city. grime lies slick on the brick walls, wet asphalt glimmers, and it starts to sparkle at me / (it's getting late) / alleyways, sore throat, static shame curling under my skin / I smile sometimes, until my lips crack.

I might be scared. I'm not quite sure.

a journal brimming with my overflowing anger, crackling and pathetic. written so many words, they've lost meaning / I've been thinking, and I don't know if I exist / my heart beats only as a formality, my life continues like a daily lipservice / my entire existence feels like a show to make the masses laugh / but no one's even fucking watching.

nighttime again. / small, sharp, yellowing teeth. impact. my back thuds against the cold brick wall / gimme a minute. I just need to catch my breath. / I'll confess that I think terrible thoughts of you / tuck them into your jacket, front pocket, until they crumple. / this should be simple but I don't know what to do.

lower than a whisper / my head is swimming. / I got a gutter mouth, you said once. it tastes like syrup when I spit.

it's neverending here, hands stained with dirt that won't wash off; my skin's getting tired of it. / I smile sometimes (with damp eyes, this time) / slow blows, sledgehammer fondness / I taste the feeling of someone else's tears, slipping down my own face. / I might be screaming. I'm not quite sure.

Find Out For Yourself. [POETRY]Where stories live. Discover now