confessions of a born again loser

i'd uh

i'd rather not eat right now, if possible

no it's alright i just feel

a little strange

it's interesting how

an empty stomach can

attempt to eat itself

i dont need to say or do anything

my body knows what to do

i can feel it working

an independent entity

im harboring life

it's fascinating

an honest, real miracle!

i look around this hall

at people eating

and ask myself

"why are they letting their kin die?!"

it calls for you! it wants you!

and you silence it!

you smother it!

what is wrong with you?!

so

NO

i don't want to have lunch

i have a much better date,

That’s what overthinking will get you!

I’m ensnared in a trap. I’m caught. It has my leg and won’t let go.

My leg is caught in the bushes and no one notices my wincing. I think i’m beginning to like it.

I’m caught because I wanted to be caught. I wanted this. I wanted to be in pain, and I wanted to feel wanted by the compressing teeth of this bear trap.

It feels nice. Being gripped so tightly like this. Love hurts. Love hurts good.

And yet I can’t help but have a nagging sense that this isn’t exactly the heaven I propose it to be. This bear trap didn’t seek me out in specific, I fell for it. It would have grabbed on just as tightly if any other sorry soul walked past. Is this wrong?

I’m bleeding out now.

I spent so long thinking about whether I was deserving of this that I didn’t notice it sapping the rest of me away. How did this happen in the first place? Who put this fucking bait here?

I become a rounding error, malignant and capricious.

far too noticeable i am out in the open

My muzzle feels awfully tight. I think the leather has bonded to my skin.

the roughness returns to my arms and legs

and i see my corpse in the mirror again

[THE OBITUARY OF A VERY ORDINARY GIRL]

Just like you and I, loved to her last breath inconsolable pointless she died without freeing anyone

[one? or two? now one, now two which is clearer?

okay now three or four three or four]

i gave all the wrong answers. things felt better then.

maybe i don't want to see you for who you really are. but what if this is better? huh? what then?!

clarity is just a song i play. brevity is just a habit i can't kick.

O' all consuming numbness! Speak through me! Shake my body til the resonance of my failure spells it all out for you! L-A-I-K-A-W-A-S-A-L-W-A-Y-S-D-O-O-M-E-D O' telephone pole God of mine, Give me release!

I'm travelling through the wires in the (minds) of all the people you know. And they talk to me And they tell me things I was never supposed to know.

I can lie on my back and affect the lives of those I love without moving a finger. But I would only affect them in good ways. I don't waste time on evil. I'm a good person. Is this thing on?

a friend of mine recently told me that they look up to me because i have "christian guilt levels of forgiveness" i didn't quite know how to parse that message. i remember reading it, putting the gas nozzle back, and getting in my car. i drove out of the parking lot and just began to sob. i didn't even know why i was crying. i heard myself crying and didn't recognize it as a sound i was emitting. it felt as if my body was crying but my mind couldn't connect with it.

logarithmic metronome increasing until i see you until i speak to you

my legs are still full of bug bites the trees are still swaying gentle summer breeze and a reminder that more than misery loves company

i confide in reckless confidence and ask the question how long have i been here? how long have i been here? the swings creak

inclined clearing and a heart for brains

fruitless attempts at sanctity pull at the base of my feet. the insides of my mouth become dry, painful. everything is a hot flash and just

like that it’s over. the session ends.

who is it i’m running to? she’s turning the corner— black sweater; a cigarette

i put rubber sole to pavement but i’m always too slow

her eyes stay with me— underlashes; darkened sockets

i missed her i’ve missed her i’ll miss—whatever

approaching the crest of a hill

i topple monoliths

pillars of ego

standing at a back and forth

i cried out

pulling into the emergency room of the hospital i was born in

i struggle finding

the words to describe the feeling

i can feel when grief is on the horizon

my ribcage becomes brittle

maybe the solution to all of my problems is hidden in prose. maybe its not hidden away in secret messages. maybe i’m not trying to hide it in plain sight. maybe i’m over it. i am over it. i am definitely over it.

maybe assigning my self worth to the actions of others like some kind of roundabout RNG system isn’t the fucking key to everything. maybe i need to stop starting these fucking sentences with maybe.

i’m sorry. i don’t want to go at this alone anymore. i don’t want to sleuth around in search for answers. i don’t want to carry on my namesake. i don’t want to be a fucking martyr for my own shoddy morals.

i want to be satisfied. i want to become a perpetual motion machine. i want to be inhuman. i want to be human. i want to be pretty. i want to be wounded and healed. i want to be experienced. i want to be adorned. i want to be one with any room you’re in. i want to be an effervescent tablet, giving you butterflies. i want to be uninhibited by the faulty neurons that won’t give me the words i want when i need them. i want to be loved. i want to be verbose. i want to be a loose cannon. i want to be rigid and stiff. i want to voice every single thought ive ever had. i want to be wonderful. i want to be warm.

i want to be warm. i want to be warm. i want to be warm. i want to be warm.

and just like that, i lost the plot again. and just like that.

the insides of my mouth become dry, painful

i feel everything in a hot flash

and just like that it’s over.

who is it that i’m running to

there’s a girl in a black sweater

i see her running around the corner

i put rubber sole to ground hoping that this time may be the one i finally catch her glimpse

but i’m always too slow

the makeup around her eyes is the only thing that stays with me

those underlashes

those darkened sockets

i missed her

i’ve missed her

i’ll miss - whatever

i’ll

get

you

next

i love you like how i love my pocket knife

a ton of functions, attached to my belt loop

there when i need you, unobtrusive when i don't

i love you the way a dad loves his toolbox

he can't live without it

his desire to build, create, tear apart

i'll find myself

gasping for life

trapped in a self-imposed mess of netting

grateful, oh so grateful

that i had you with me

i love you when i need you

and i tuck you away when i don't

soon enough your blade will dull