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terminal loneliness

blue.

highest skies and deeper oceans,

cold waters and hottest flames.

hell must be the iciest of blues, almost

white. so cold that it burns, so hot

it bites. pain is pain is

pain, whether hot or cold. is heaven

scarlet and hell white, maybe

they’re one and the same. blue, blue,

cold hot water fire. your

favorite color is blue,

like a midnight sky. you are

blue, sweet baby blue and navy blue comfort,

cotton candy and starry skies. your

favorite sweater is cornflower blue, you wear

sneakers the color of ocean depths.

calm, stable, faithful, not


gray.

stormy skies and raging rivers,

moody waves and hazy smoke.

everything around me is cloudy

gray, like i’m lost in medusa’s garden

and she’s added me to her collection.

dull eyes, numb smile, stone

heart, impenetrable as my well-practiced smile.

fuzzy, hazy, like i’m looking through

fog, but i don’t deserve the comfort of fogginess,

so i force myself to focus, force my vision to sharpen.

i don’t deserve to let myself fade into


black.

i don’t know how long i’ve been awake, maybe

five minutes, maybe five hours.

i need sleep but sleep is

a blessing, a gift, sleep is

rest. sleep is the doorway to a new day

i don’t want to enter. i’m not

suicidal but maybe i kinda want to be

dead, i don’t really feel

like dying but i don’t always want to

live, i’m just stuck somewhere

in the middle. the clock says 3:38 in cold

blue. last time i checked it was 3:31, maybe

it was 2:31. i can’t think about anything except


steel.

cool against my fingertips, sharp

edges, cold existence. pain, a little

like me. nothing,

i still feel nothing. a dull ache

in my chest, a faint pressure

behind my eyes. no tears to be found, why

can’t i feel anything? i feel too

little, you feel too much. your tears are

a few thoughts away, the ache in your chest turns

into heaving breaths. rivers run

down flushed cheeks, quickly dammed

by sweater sleeves. shaking shoulders, shakier

words, the spaces between them desperate

gasps for air. your heart is made of glass, mine of


stone.

there are no tears left for me.

in the deepest oceans i must smile, in the

thickest smoke i laugh and joke. my

truth is not needed

now. away, away, until my feelings are gone,

locked in a dusty prison. they fight and

scream, beat at their walls until

i feel them in my chest but i lost

the key a long time ago.

i have a new key that doesn’t fit

right but it works well

enough, anything to get rid of this ache, make me

feel, even if it’s


red.

burning sunsets and crackling fireplaces,

love and hate in equal measure. your

favorite candy flavor is cherry, my skin is striped

like a watercolor candy cane.

the ache fades but i still can’t

breathe, even now there are no tears for me,

so i try again,

again, until everything is red and there’s only a dull

burn. but the hurt is nice, a reminder that i’m not

dead, at least not yet. why won’t it burn me

alive, until i’m nothing but gray

ashes and stone fragments and your

tears might fall on the broken fragments of my

well-practiced smiles. red, dark

crimson red, a little color on

cold metal and colder skin. red

for fire, if only I could light

myself on fire and turn into smoke.

maybe i already have.

everything is fading to


white

or maybe it’s black.

 

starting off strong (and dark)! this is probably one of my best pieces, and probably my best poem. it's won the most writing competitions and i'm really proud of it. i am in a better place now though! so no worries :))

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