28. I can see you, you stand atop a fallen tree and your lungs scream to the heavens, but can you feel my heart beating for you?

I dedicate this poem to the dull throb deep in my chest. You’ve been my constant companion for many years. Where have you come from? I know nothing of you.
I sometime sit and just listen to my room.
It’s terribly quiet. Sometimes it scares me, sometimes it
saves from from my own thoughts.
I get washed up and wrapped up in the quieting things around me.
I blink and every time I do, I see darkness and it lasts for almost forever
then I’m back in my room, lying on my bed, my toes getting colder
but I don’t want to move and cover them with the blanket I am laying upon.
.N. I miss you.
I sometimes pretend I’m in my room and you’re in my room
We are sitting holding hands. I hear laughter, but it is never coming from us.
I see the copy-pasted smile I superimposed on your lips.
I pretend you are not so mean. I pretend you are not greedy for things other than me.
I sometimes have dreams that I have run into you at the corner store,
my stomach jumps up and down, and my blood is hot.
I turn away
I wake up hating myself
and my decision of turning away because at least
I could have seen your face, even if it was just a dream.
Can you tie my hair back? I miss you. Please. Pretty please.
I want to cry and hold your hands. I want you to see my sadness.
Are you happy, I just want to know.
At least one part of this shamble is not so bad.
At least part of two is not as molding.
At least some of the ugly picture has completely been erased.
At least.
Here comes the big leap. I hesitate, I trip because of it.
I fall awkwardly down, down and down.
Here comes the night to take me away.
Here it comes, watch out!
Here here here here here here here here here here, I blink blink blink blink blink blink blink
How many Forevers have I gone through on this bed?
How many Lives have I lived on this bed?
How much Shelter have I sought?
Of everything, what has come and gone?
I am so sad sometimes. So incredibly, undescribably depressed.
Days like these I sit and I listen to my room. Sometimes it scares me. Sometimes it saves me from my own thoughts.
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