I know this isn't getting through to you. I know it was pointless to write any of this.

i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know tell me how to make it right i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i don't know i never should have been born

Existential Despair/Existence is Despair
recurring recurrent themes
of course this is repetition
of course,
suicide is a crime
and is thinking

?Girl with agenda #1 said or, rather, marked on lined paper:

These were the things that were in the room:
Two water bottles
Banana
Calculator
Lighter
Pen
Hair gel
Electrical tape
Deodorant
Blood
Scissors
Post-it notes
Contact fluid
Mechanical pencil
Wallet
Hair

It was like she had seen on crime shows. She hoped she did a good job. Her name was Samantha. She got good grades and believed in good. She got fucked on the weekend.

Love Poems

1.
2.

there were two things

there were two things...

there were two things that... caused...

me...

to...

lose love in all its wonderful shapes and forms, all

its wonderful

manifestations of

warmth.

---

don't be sad, silly
nobody's life's all fun
you'll get through it
home's not far
cheer up, kid
don't be sad

delusion #2

despair
it's fair to assume tomorrow you'll be dead

--

you never were much more than used rags
and crooked half smiles on autumn days.

you skipped all your classes,
abandoned your friends,
and slept away months in grief,
your entire existence composed of
shut eyes and empty dreams,
gray places without time or reason,
and nobody to tell you "do this."

maybe if somebody heard your words,
maybe if somebody looked at your face and saw your eyes,
you would have survived,
you would have survived.
but nobody did,
and i can't say sorry somehow.

delusion #1

you spent a thousand years in sand, sculpting monuments with broken fingers

i could not know the names of the places that were made,
but with each moment passing, i felt such change
in the people,
in the landscape
that buried all faces

changeable

forever

changeable

in the end, buildings would crumble
and empires would fall
but never could i remember your eyes

funeral writing

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this you think as you leave her apartment in the pouring rain and drive to the department store 30 miles an hour where you buy a cheap set of kitchen knives and drive back 30 miles an hour and she’s waiting for you, she’s waiting for you like it’s just rehearsal in the rain in the street in tears in her eyes in apologies in her teeth and you get out of the car and you take the knives and you drop them at her feet I'm sorry. I'm sorry I wasn’t good enough for you and I'm sorry you could never see that---but so much for a clean getaway.


when I got here I didn't believe it could be as bad as this. The liars told me things look up with time, but time passes so slowso fucking slow looking at screens for hours looking for something like words or pictures or i don't know sounds but just finding yourself at 3 in the morning not looking at clocks because if you look at them, if you really really look at them... maybe you'd want to commit suicide. and blood is so fucking messy.

dripping down your armslope. forget you even had a test last week.

significance/false significance

1

anything everything
i’ll take everything
from you i’ll never have known you
you’ll never have been near
me when i died there everyyear
forever and ever i wish i wish there was nothing
then everything would mean nothing

2

everybody’s fighting
the night sky
it’s winning the battle
everything is lost
don't pretend anymore

still

i'm sitting here and i'm thinking really
hard but i can't seem to remember
anything that happened yesterday
i must have slept for an hour
i must have slept for three days
i think there were girls with
painted faces at that party
and so many endless rooms where
i found you again and again
always wearing that same dress
the dress i spilled red wine on
and the fabric never stopped bleeding