Seeking shelter in the sweetly sad
songs of my ancestors,
Where things are tuned
and toned down
as I've ever been.
After the hundredth time I rejected a set up,
a friend asked me:
"What even makes you happy?"
And I had no answer
But a blank stupid stare.
"You need some joy in your life!"
And I couldn't argue there.
"You need someone to help you
act your age. Be young for once."
But I've been old
Since I've been at all,
So I shrugged.
I've never wanted this.
I'm so tired of being tired.
I don't want to remember,
Or recall,
with every thing I do.
Like
After some off-colour silliness,
another friend said:
"You're so wonderful,
you'll find someone to love you
and make you as happy as you make us."
And with no shame I replied. "I did."
I saw, in her eyes,
her heart break for me,
despite the petty insignificance of my life
compared to her trials.
And her hug was the best one I've had in a long while.
I see that face still
Burned in the back of my eyelids
The light after the dark
Floating in the aether
of a sanity severed
Questioning myself
Calling my own bluffs and obsession
Reaching, in a dream, like a joke, for a dead past
I wake and fake a solace in false confession.
I hand out advice I can't take
And break and wither
I have become rot
Comparing falsehood
to a drifting now
You are the last
If ever there was a first
Or has it always been a lie?
Have these feelings always been a bad joke?
A pun of psychology and biology,
while the robot rusts.
A few years and change of sunlight and silver lining
and then the dark skies returned.
Well, it does feel like home.
Was I just two faced,
living two lives?
Goddamn me for a hypocrite.
Aw fuck it,
You gotta take what you can get.
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