poems to books i'll never wri...

By writingwords_tonight

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drink me
hottub
blindly playing
F for failure
paintings of joy
fuck you
again dismissed
not your soul
hope
let me forget
i am drawn
sober up
basement couches
subsitutions
dear dead, ...
time passing
10:11 on a sunday evening
sketch
drips and falls
to you
moments of window clarity
mi armadura
hug
41 words
dissociation?
hm
exhale
why do my hands cry too
your own protection
what i want to be when im older
meds
rn or smthn ig idk
destination here to home
hotel occupant memory
skinned
karma kickback
another universe
"its okay, im here now."
literal
am i worth talking to
cmon
pain
bare
deserving love
you
small
headlights off
purify the soul
spun
knocking at my door
what id wish
a postcard to the boy in my dream
partnership
written
behind the 2
mood swinging
tremble trembles
just look at me
hell
part 84
85
live
?
93
94
2022
pop
am i real
rant
intermission

the buzzing

72 8 0
By writingwords_tonight

i lay in bed, but i don't feel the normal tiredness consume me. my eyes are open and a different type of tiredness approaches, one you can't shake with slumber. a kind that doesn't have a particular remedy of its own. it just sits and stays.

it feels like the blank static of a televison when the house is silent, and you just sit there in the dull quietness, waiting for it to start working again. you sit in your chair against the wall, and no matter how irritated you get at the tv, no matter how much the sound bothers you, it still doesn't stop to turn back on.

the feeling proceeds to exist and i cant seem to shake the birds of numbness that flock in my head. they move chaotically, and knock over everything inside the little house of my brain. though still, i lay here. i lay here with my eyes open until i start to see the sun rise outside of my window, and hear the real morning birds chirp outside. i've been laying here all night long, even though it's felt like only a few hours. i wonder if anyone at school will notice the actual sunrise, the severe ones with blues and pinks that form half circles under my eyes. i bet myself nobody will, and then quietly, behind the sound of my inner monologue, i still hear the tv static.... echoing... unceasing...

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