melancholia induced by my lack of self

19. nadie es para siempre.
5/7/5 but repeated, cyclical haiku?
nothing is forever
(i think that you have broke me)
love wasn't promised
(yet you still kept your promise)
why did you hold me?
(i was the one who left you.)
was it just revenge?
(i hope that you cared for me.)
what if we are dead?
(will you be revived for me)
i hope that you live.

20. i think i'm in love

is this beating in my heart love?
(everytime i see him ny heart races.)
i hope it is, and not some false hope.
(because when she broke my trust,
she broke my idea of love.)
will he love me?
no, but the thought is what counts.

21. (p)a(gre)ssive

18+ for language

i've been told i'm passive agressive
is it the fact that i can never hear myself when i speak
(my father says i'm always giving him snide
but in my head my words sound fine.)
is it the fact i act out of honesty?
(honesty is the best policy, and when he told me "fuck off" i looked at him and pointed out his flaws.
i think i see it now.)
nobody is quite perfect-- but i like to pretend that my life isn't shitty
(i wish to escape, but to escape i must be nice. and i've been told i'm passive agressive.)

22. twenty-two (it feels like the perfect night)
taylor swift is a woman of buisness
(if she is the man, then am i the archer?)
it's unfair to blame her (but don't blame me)
because when talking all they ever do is talk about her illicit affairs
(stop whispering about her like she's a suburban legend,
and no, it's obviously becky (& all of the girls you've loved before.)

22.x the parrot only knows its favorite words (2)
with lines borrowed from @AmayaStatham, @Youbeaucupid, @envy, @OrabellaAvenue, @Ventomology, @Rook, @creaturefeature, @Meshugenah, @fatherfig, @Rose, @Liminality, @Apricity, @DreamyAlice underline (note, i have changed some of the punctuation.)
parrots love mimicry as their brains only know their favorite words
(while they stay up 'till late night just to watch the stars they try to be human--
and by human i mean they are trying to learn what we say.)
i think that pirates had parrots becuase they were loyal avians who said what they heard.
like water dripping out of a sink, echoing the tears that fall
(do parrots ever get seasick? the feel of dappled sunlight & the sound of that windchime must make them think of the land.)
whenever you look at yourself in the mirror you see all the little mistakes in yourself
which makes you envy those parrots who mock every single word they hear
("the rolling glacial foothills on repeat are brown and beige and boring-er than corn."
they repeat, as if they spoke a cryptic language only parrots know of.)
i once heard a parrot talk about seeing pretty goldfish or betta fish—though i’ve seen some of those as well
they taunt me with love notes, stained carpets, a mess of pink plastic
they make these false promsises in vain, but i never listen.
(dawn and dusk may be my favorite, but it's under a scorching sun or summer-cold waning moon that freedom lies)
everything is elusive when you have time for something except for parrots.
they have all the time yet nothing is elusive for them.
(y cuando era joven pensaba que la vida era un zumo porque los pajaros.)*
i track those invisible connections between the friends i know and those i don’t
(which turns out to be hard when there are ghosts in your closet i never thought i'd see again)
i have long believed she could fly with wings she kept concealed but i plucked away all her plumage.
(she kept repeating back to me like echo, and i am in constant fear of myself.)

*and when i was young i thought that life was like juice because of the birds.

22.10151103 my stomach hurts
i think i'm going to throw up
my stomach hurts soooo bad

23. all eyes on me.
as long as i have lived i only craved one thing
validation, to know i'm doing something right.
it's not that weird when you think about it
(please, someone tell me that i'm doing well.)
actually, if i think some more i also crave love
& money & power & care & something new
(i lied, i'm not okay with this mundane everyday routine.)
& i want validation more than anything in life.
someone tell me that i'm acting like a human
(i told you that humans are inhumane,
and that's how it feels every waking moment)
i'm not asking i'm begging you,
someone tell me i'm doing well
(i'm about to erode by my tears i swear,
i cry everytime i go unseen, but that's okay.)

i think that i crave validation because i never felt valid

but i've never been invalid, so i don't know what i'm doing.

24. stormy skies
i hate the way the rain smells
its sickeningly sweet, but it feels sticky
i hate the way the rain feels on my skin
its somewhat warm but also cold
(i think i hate the way my skin feels on my bones
and the way it wraps around me like a snake.)
clouds cover the sky the same way clothes cover our skin
(are we the sky? no, because causation isn't correlation.)
my skin is marred with scars as the sky is marred with stars
i hate the way my skin feels after i've laid in the road for too long
because i think i hate the way the rain cascades from the clouds.

25. alias
i have gone through many aliases over the years
[one time i was teatheshooketh
then i was st4rryn1ght
afterwards, p0l4r1s
and now i am herbalhour]
and each time my style had changed
(i was obsessed with anime, then astrology
and now i am writing poetry.)
from stars to teas, who would have thought?
(i cling on to these names as a personal history,
to try to remember my past & my future.)

26. ravens
i think i want to hold my own funeral
(so i can decide whether or not my death is rejoiced)
because everybody can / will / should take my place in the
end
less
void
of
space
(and maybe, just maybe will i let you cry over me & my
100
reasons
to
leave
me)
ravens will peck at worms & at my lifeless eyes
(humans are like ravens in that sense
we are always picking eachother apart.)

i wish that i knew how i would die
(but death is an inconciveable ideal to grapple with,
so i understand perfectly.)

26.5 something i should have said (apprehnesion)

i waited to speak.

and yet i lost those things i never said. i wish i had, because you would still be next to me. i'm sorry to tell you that i am not the person you thought i was but instead i am the worst version of me. i'm a sad excuse of a person & an empty shell of what i want to be. someone out there could be looking for me but they must know i am not who i claim -- i am not a god, nor am i a human. i am simply a futile nothing lost in the screams of others.

i wish i could speak.

27. thaw
i left my heart out of the freezer
(i've been told i'm cold, but not sweet like ice cream)
i left it out with the pints of ice cream i had left in there.
(my heart is french vanilla, my mind is strawberry.)
it all melted into sludge after a while
(my blood is pistachio, my lungs are chocolate.)
i wish i could just stay cold and unmoving.
(my soul is lemon sorbet, sour & unforgiving.)

28. spare change
i hate the way loose change feels inside my pocket by far
it always jingles around and maked me feel so unsatisfied
it's like screaming out for someone-- a lone star

i think some day i'll turn my pockets inside out so the change all goes into el mar.
(if this is the promised paradise then i do not like it, because i cried.)
i hate the way loose change feels in my pocket by far

you treated me like loose change too, and in the process threw out my heart
(i wish that this will be the only kind of euphoria i will be denied)
it's like screaming out for someone-- a lone star

you walked all over mw and left me there stuck in melancholia made of tar
(if you are the one who is seeking, i will surely hide.)
i hate the way loose change feels in my pocket by far

quarters & dimes & nickels & pennies will all eventually become the same (won't that be bizzare?)
& i think that you'll maybe know that i'd lied.
(it's like screaming out for someone-- a lone star)

& i'm sorry i suppose but maybe this was the best in our memoir--
you always had a knack for putting away spare change into divides
(i hate the way loose change feels in my pocket by far
it's like screaming out for someone-- a lone star)

28.xi i think that i am a house and they are a skyscraper.
with lines borrowed from @22Midnight, @avianwings47, @Coffeewriter, @CapybarasAndCoffee, @momonster, @Fleur, @GengarIsBestBoy, @soundofmind, @starbean, @Plume, @Horisun, @Que in underline. i have changed some punctuation.
i think that somehow i am somewhat inferior to you even though we are the same
(as one rises from the ground to reclaim the magic that was once lost
the other sinks into the sea to lose what it once called its own.)
& you know that i am nothing when you look at me & you know that my hands are not meant to be held.
it's pitiful to exist and sure, i look perfect on the surface but i’m a nightmare underneath
(i stand here alone all on my own, and i ask why you left me
and yes, i heal the broken parts of my soul by gently putting myself back together but it's not working so well.)
time is ticking slow, yet too fast & i didn't realize there were only remains of our hearts
(i am in my fear of familiar comforts becoming worn out by wear & tear.)
your secrets are now mine to tell but ‘cause of love i keep them safe
(you told me that it was okay, that it didn't have to be perfect but i swear you told me that you would leave me if i wasn't.)
à la fin, j'aimerais que j'eusse dit «je suis désolée je t'aime et pour le reste de ma vie, c'est toi.»*
(but i hadn't, even though we observe the soft surface of the thunder-gray lake.)
so now i'm pleading that you let me out of my own skin, i don’t recognize this life anymore

*At the end, I wish I had said "I'm sorry I love you and for the rest of my life, it's you."