Notes By No One

I think home is always sadness

about the previous one about the ones missed

home is always incomplete is always yearning

is comfort is the pain of habit in a new place, now old and known

home sometimes displaces another from your heart

yet that home stays and never lets home fill it whole

home will forever be many

home has never been whole but because of that home has been everywhere too

sleep has been elusive these days. my friend runs from me. i run from her.

when she hugs me and pulls me in, i feel safe and secure. but i know i cannot stay in her arms. there are entirely too many things to do. i know that i can’t keep running from her too. it feels like i don’t deserve her comfort. her bliss. her peace. in a world that lacks it so much.

it would be defiance to let her in. i know this. yet.

yet i feel unworthy. yet she feels obstructive. i mistake her gentle touch for chains and run.

seek refuge in numbing my brain while awake. seek rest in saying i’m in pain.

Between thoughts of reoccurring emptiness, I think of you.

What is a lover for, you ask, and I reply he fills your emptiness.

Those empty spaces between thoughts and ideas, those gaps between wisdom and boredom.

A lover fills up all of them.

You didn’t even realise there were those gaps, until you meet them and love them and finally let them go.

Because then only do you become ever so conscious of the vastness of these gaps and you wonder how you are ever going to fill them. If you are ever going to fill them. During a relationship, you might think, I need space. But when you really have that space you want to beg, please, take it back. The overwhelming emptiness takes possession of your soul and you wonder, do I love him as before? When actually you had only grown used to them, used to their presence in your everyday thoughts, that suddenly abandoning them becomes more difficult than you would have imagined.

that i do not see with my eyes, but with my heart a little too much.

i see someone, one moment they’re ugly, one moment they’re beautiful.

i do think everybody sees like this a little, but my eyes seem to have grown bad sometimes.

some days, i see both images in my head while looking at or thinking of someone

i see the disgusting, gross version of them, that i saw this one time and then their undeniable beauty too

it’s like a broken mirror image, a mirage, a split-screen, showing me both at the same time.

my eyes are tired my heart confused and at the same time enraptured

I don't want to move on not from you guys.

you have been building your lives don't know where they're heading.

I've been here. But if I settle here, it'll mean moving on from the dream I've had of being somewhere with you.

Is this the year of heartbreak? It's been two since we've lived in the same place. And it's catching up with me all over again.

My heart is split between places.

On one side, there is you and wanting to hold on. On the other there is me, alone here. And I cannot see how our paths can find each other again, for more than a road crossing.

I do not want to walk alone, but I do not want to walk with anyone else either. It feels like leaving you behind.

I know that in the end I might have to walk the way I have to and that only then might I encounter you again on the way. I know that waiting and chasing might not be the way to get there.

Yet, I feel my heart breaking at the thought of walking either on my own or with someone else.

I can't shake the feeling of betrayal, I'm scared I'll leave you behind, when you mean the world to me.

Yet again, I can't imagine the hurt if I am on a path and one opens up to you, and I'm left unable to choose.

I am scared of the event arising, of its imagination itself, that I should ever be forced to choose between my life and my world.

I hurt a lot anyways.

It makes me perceptive, it makes me strong. But it also makes me scared. I fear that it makes me weak.

Simultaneously, I fear that I am strong enough to make it through, and that it suggests that I didn't care enough.

I do not know how to express that I care.

What else could be the ultimate proof of love?

Because in the end, that is what it is I feel for you.

My fear, pain, strength, drive, happiness,

is all

A recollection of drunken words No certainty It makes it all the more intense

I think Too much About you, about what could have been and about what could be I tremble In fear? Anticipation? Uncertainty and the thrill of it?

out of my grip

I struggle for control feel the need to hold it all

but then I lose myself.

sometimes i get lost in the form i get lost in the structure sometimes this comfort is warm others, it feels like torture

When did I mature From the child that couldn’t do anything wrong And the adult that couldn’t do anything right To whatever I am now

Somewhere in between

And all the gazing morrows seem only just so hollow I can’t seem to feel like every second is not borrowed or even willfully taken

Every single piece of joy everything that makes me happy, i feel like a toy.

Tell me how I seem so sad and why I sleep so bad And while I’m going mad

it’s hard to not pretend like I’m all right all the fucking time

My acting is sublime Why aren’t I on amazon prime It should cost a dime to be so good and even rhyme these things As if that was the silver lining of my life. Just need some more priming and we’re up to date On the most recent haste and its tastes Whatever the world is fixated on now

Please show me how How to live without living To survive without thriving To keep on going in this hollow ended world

Everything written feels like repeated words Of someone, somewhere