hot steam

it's 4:35 in the morning. i look at people talking on a screen, trying to justify their actions. the delay is long, as i try to understand, to be in their shoes, but i feel nothing. looking into the past, laughter and smiles, moments to remember, feelings to embrace? but i feel nothing...

the experiences lived show the world has a lot to offer. these experiences blur with the truth, my truth. i try to find myself and i get lost in grief. i force myself to love, to share love, to call out for love, to express love... but it's all forced. i feel nothing.

i think of shinta. she loved me. she didn't judge me. she didn't try to take advantage of me. she felt my pain and offered love in return. i wish she was still with me. i open myself to the opportunities and the responses i get... i don't trust them. i gave myself away for a decade, and was discarded like the trash i've always been. my hands tremble and my strength lingers far like a star i try to grab. the hollow self becomes the whole, an empty whole. i feel nothing.

this disease has taken over, the snow piled up and now it's impossible to leave this shack. i sit and write to get it out, but i no longer trust in the power of these words. i read them and as i dig deeper into this hole, faith dwindles. had i been, should i've been?... i have been and will be, not much to it really. "the loser" is a tittle i've worn so well, even the wins are worthless. "fight it" i've heard some say, but not to me. actually, "fight it" i've heard myself say many times over, but not to me. i feel nothing.

i'm also a coward, and out of my own volition i have decided stupid things. they took me nowhere. out of my own volition i've chosen other paths that have led me nowhere. nowhere is where i live 24hs a day. my mind is mute, my heart rots and my soul left me decades ago. in times like these, i help my so-called friends. am i an enabler? it's how i get loved. even when it's temporary, ephemera, empty, tasteless, fake, i crave it like a drug. that's my inner kid fighting his way through every scar, carrying the load. i feel nothing.

near death experiences clear the path from the fog that are "those friends". they leave the road clear for us to accept it and walk. i sit and wait for the smog to return and fill my lungs with the tar, hoping to feel something. like a cold machine, i walk and forget, but then i stop and the memories flood my bubble. i pop the bubble and the smoke becomes apparent, a parent to this inner child that craves a hug with the hunger of a thousand wars. but after a thousand wars, what is one more? so i walk the path, as the voices fade. the general consensus is that maybe, just maybe, one of those voices might stay. but that one song that once ringed my finger through the wound left me blinded without a cane in an unforgiving road to nowhere, my home. but if home is where the heart is then i guess... but i won't think about it, because these tears comfort the silence and these bloodstains mark the spot, like an x on a map leading home, leading nowhere. and i feel nothing.

somewhere along the line i should, but i won't. that's the coward in me. too hot headed to talk, too self righteous to trust, too broken to try and mend it. I destroy the expectation that leads to disappointment, that leads to me, for i am the truth behind the curtain, the facts undeniable, the ash pile that the wind blows, burnt, dirty, dismantled, like you've always liked it. the burning inside screams at nothing, and i let it. like the charcoal in my hands, i waste away with every line and every stroke and every word of encouragement i've passed along, brand new, unused, unaccepted. because you won't die under my watch, but you won't know until it's too late and i'm gone.

it is 5:20 in the morning. another hour wasted with the fake belief that i could find answers. a hundred hours wasted with the intention of not letting you get to me. but you were faster. in space no one can hear you scream, but in this hell no one will hear you scream. just like you refuse to hear my screams. one and the same, yet divided. if i let the sun enter, will i feel it burn? or will it be too fast? i hope it's slow, the grasp, all so before i am taken, i can at least feel the burn. but in this moment, i feel nothing.