it's just 3 pm and we're already crying - we're too tired to wait for the night - we let it out wherever we can - in college lawns with people everywhere and in restrooms of restaurants we've never been to before and in changing-rooms with way too many people waiting outside - we're so young and we already hate ourselves so much - we're too afraid to grow any older - our bodies ache so much already
we were promised so many things and we're still promised so many more - it's miserable and it's so pathetic and we still listen
our bodies are numb and we're still running - they never taught us how to stop
we're drowning and we don't know how to swim - no one's coming to save us but we really want to live - so we learn to yell poems in our heads and we learn to scratch art on our bodies and we learn to make them listen to us - we learn to live and we are crying still and we learn to walk the streets alone and we are holding hands still and we learn to sleep without a body next to us and we need people to hug us still and we learn to grow up and we need to believe in fairytales still
we learn from other people and we learn from ourselves - we break us down and then we build us up - we are too holy and then we are falling - we laugh and we make them laugh and then we cry - our bodies know pain and we hurt our bodies remain mortal but we do not - we are too loud for our own good.
you feel out of place out of tune as if you've fallen through the wrong cracks to end up in a home that belongs to someone else.
like a word that doesn't quite rhyme; but sits in the middle of a story that everyone skips to read the ending. misplaced by a writer who was in a rush.
a little lonely in the crowded room a little claustrophobic in an empty one you feel out of place.
the fan creaks from the ceiling as the sun burns through the summer days.
you miss the rain, not the kinda one every poet romanticize about these days. but the wild ones that they don't write about, the ones that drown the empty streets with the heavy falls, the ones that drown you to the depths. you miss the chaos.
days are poignant, you stare at the crossroads that lead to more crossroads in a sadistic loop. you feel out of place like a mouse that runs through a maze.
all the songs that made sense once don't feel the same anymore. so, you press next till you fall asleep. like love, you feel out of tune.
maybe it's certain words that everyone ever cared about. never about the one that died in between. the one that never belonged.