such a delightful form of death I've chosen to eat me away like I eat up the destructive tendencies I harbor up my sleeve. I've taken a certain affinity for searching my life of its possible purpose hidden underneath all the suffocating depression. so far on those expeditions, all I've acquired are petty samples of memories siphoned from my ill brain - it was quite simple for she coughed those suckers right out!
memories are only ever good for states of stagnation at 3AM thinking about your lost potential and what could've been with them and how empty the streets are anyway.
I went deeper and saw a collection of daydreams piled up precariously high reaching the ceiling of Thought itself, perhaps? but nostalgia couldn't let go of the emotional attachment, she wouldn't release it from her goddamn grasp
can't you see?
the brain is only ever good for excruciating self destruction at 5AM when you decide that life is just too much for you or maybe you're too much for life itself..
but I guess I'll just let whoever is in the next dimension to decide that for me, cos right now everything is too much and being alive is more vast and complicated - everything seems so contrived and warped and ugly - (am I in a simulation? am I even real?)
I guess not I'm just a jumble of word vomit and my soul is stuck in a series of notebooks, o please, won't you read me?
- or in other words, I went on a journey to the center of my brain on a Tuesday afternoon to forget I ever missed you.
-
a/n: yeet I am feeling worthless lol but at least I can drown myself in solange's music
dedicated 2 rogue rachel cos she's been supporting my poetry since Day One,,,Love Her
