i just keep thinking of those moments i missed with you and you weren’t missing them with him, and touching his lips, kissing his hips, and angering his joints in a way that was joyless. i miss you the way you miss him.
oh, what a year this has been, as if this ocean kept trembling, moving, shaking, and i was just this piece in the middle of nowhere, with no control over other people’s bodies. their thoughts, their minds, their hugs and their kisses, all lost, between my thoughts and my lack of mind, between our arms there’s only distance, and no one is clingy now, because how can we cling to each other when all we have is ourselves? the clocks are static, but the dates keep moving on, and we’re trying to survive, we’re trying to keep everyone alive, and they try to keep their finances alive. no one knows what they’re doing, but they do know what we’re doing, and it’s clear by now that no one is doing the right thing. the shifts are both massive and small, just like the ticks and the tocks, i used to think i have it all, but what a time to be alive. i keep hiding behind locks, transported from bed to desk, from dreaming of you to a nightmare so grotesque, where people sneeze on me and hug me. oh, what a year this has been.
it’s easy to be mad, to feel like you’re fighting the wrong way. maybe you’re saying too much, or not enough. you feel the ties, and then you feel like it’s a one way street, and then you keep guessing what’s their next move, it’s like a never ending movie of rollercoaster rides, of trying to ride the tides, of not getting enough sleep or clarity, of feeling like you’re asking for charity. and yes, it’s easy to be mad, when you’re only mad at yourself. for being weak, for being too strong, too lame or too independent, too angry, or too dependent, careless or too demanding, and there’s no right way of feeling these feelings, but there’s a very wrong way to express them. take your time, because they took everything from you. you need to rebuild, you need to be thrilled. let them have your old you, it’s easy to sleep with ghosts. keep your new you to yourself, and move to the other coast. it’s okay to be mad, it’s okay to be scared, let your anger fuel you and let it be shared with the root of all evil, this handsome devil, that, in their stupid way, brought you to a higher level.
is love finite? and is it spent? sometimes it feels like our life is bent and crossed only for us to be oblivious and lost. is our world finite? and is it spent? it’s like my life is lived on borrowed time and lent, and i keep trying to make small dents, and all i get instead are smiles that are lost, arms that are crossed, incredible losses and cost.