Author Information
Her Words
"You're gorgeous, you're 29!"
But I'm tired in a way I can't explain
Or to try would be too much pain.
"You shouldn't be meandering through life."
I'm not. I'm hiding. Feigning functionality.
Clinging to comforts with fragility.
"Do you have any friends?"
I do, but I don't, I spend so much time
Alone pretending everything is fine.
"What do you do when you aren't working?"
Space out, play games in and out of my head
And obsess over fictional stories in my bed.
"I'm really worried about your mental health."
Things are always various shades of bad
It doesn't really matter why I'm always sad.
"Do you do any kind of art?"
I vomit feelings and words and call it poetry
But emotions are painful and I'm in no hurry.
"Can you give me ten minutes?"
Ten minutes is all it'll take to feel alive
Instead of like you're drowning inside.
I can do that, I can write out this pain,
There's a universe of words in my veins
That spill out whether I want it or not.
Nice
This reads so much like your common psychology session, except in this case the patient (you in your own narration) is a genius as she webs out the tendencies of suffering through and through the oftentimes misunderstood shallow experience of existence and self-inflicted solitude which makes sorrow glow dreadfully red. With your perfect personal presentation of some amazingly complex and connective conversational thought -- that works so well as you've displayed it -- the Mindframe of the Lame Days drags us all through the world in which you harness the power to share. I have immense empathy.
bananas are the perfect food
for prostitutes
Thank you for the thoughtful
Thank you for the thoughtful beautiful and kind comment. I greatly appreciate it.
Long days and pleasant nights
Diamond