5-3-16
So many faces
Faces everywhere
New glances, old stares
the fluorescent light bounces off the white walls
My eyes watch from behind that gray hooodie
I look at the eyes and lips and freckles and faces that pass and they're all so human.
I take a look at these hands and they're an artist's hands-
So far from clean.
These limbs are mechanical.
Sounds seem distant,
The world is disconnected, all that I know is what's inside of my head
And there's not much on the outside that I let in.
My best friends are things you'd never talk to,
Things you don't know exist,
And things you'd call me crazy for loving in a personified way.
Do they look at me and actually think I'm human?
If they do,
My god, something is very wrong here.

The fire I burn you with burns me even deeper,
I've never been fireproof.
Once you accept what you're made of,
It gets easier, you don't feel your lungs turn black like charcoal.
I get confused these days-
I'm not sure if you're burning me or I'm doing this to myself.
I think i got you caught up in the all the flame;
It's a show you decided you wanted to stay and watch.
Perhaps you liked the summer burning in my eyes,
The fire dancing through me- back when it made me feel alive.
Now we're just two balls of fire instead of bodies.

Why is it that nothing feels real?
Do I not have oxygen in my lungs?
Do I not have blood in my veins?
Granted, I don't quite feel as though I can breathe and I want to carve at those veins.
Parts of me are alive- the creative parts (I don't think those decay)
But the rest of me feels dead.
Dead dead dead god damn it.

My head feels dizzy,
Temptation and depression and anxiety and emotion of all kinds seem to think life is a merry-go-round, I guess.
I'll tell you I'm starting to get sick.
The thing is,
I've got ghosts, skeletons, and demons in my head,
They lurk,
I'm okay with their presence.
I'm only blaming emotion,
Emotion is what possesses these things- brings them to life.
There's so much inspiration within dark realities and imaginings for me,
I can't say this is negative.
That's the thing-
The lines are blurred.
Nothing is positive or negative-
It's art.
It's for me to admire,
It's for me to be affected by,
I don't commit to labels for that.
- (m.m)

My life is so connected,
I can't help but feel it's not this complex for everyone.
Nothing is as it seems,
There's something hidden within it.
I've always liked mysteries, so I follow along.
Sometimes I just want to connect the dots and make constellations,
Map it all out and plaster it to these walls,
Cover the blue I've grown familiar with.
- (m.m)