fatal-kalopsia

[fatal-kalopsia]

how unfair that our souls are closer than we ever were

[fatal-kalopsia]

The biggest consequence of knowing is knowing that you’ll never know enough

[fatal-kalopsia]

i dont do good with people my age

an expectation looms over undesirable bodies

selling time in exchange for more plastic and paper

empty questions on undistinguished pallets

judgment on paralyzed faces

unsurpised by my fear and abandon

by my obsessions and facinations

your not one in a million, alas i am one in 8 billion

does that make me the same or so very different?

[fatal-kalopsia]

i want to be everything and nothing at all

[fatal-kalopsia]

how am i supposed to trust love, as a feeling

if i cannot trust my will to stay alive

i can barely remain happy

how can i ever promise to love you?

[fatal-kalopsia]

my best friend is the dawn

she is perfect, and i am ungrateful

i closed my eyes so tightly when i spoke,

i thought i could take it back

all the times i opened up and told her it hurt;

hurt to think, to breathe, to see.

I was so scared of the truth i closed my eyes

i know now that closing your eyes doesnt make someone disapear

but if you close them for long enough,

people get tired of not being seen,

and they walk away.

and so my dusk turned to nightfall.

when i remember our friendship

it feels like a nightime breeze

a soft carress on a tear stained cheek

i remain with great memories

knowing i tore apart a friendship,

all because i was scared of being me

[fatal-kalopsia]

my soul has lived too many lives

[fatal-kalopsia]

my soul lies in a deep cavern in my feet. every step i take squanders the parts that are really me. with time ive adorned my mind with personas weaved together with other people lies and promises. kept a detailed journal of my wins and loses. hid behind a mask that promised me something, something less exhaustive. yet as time passes i see the dawn of all my wasted time. im nothing but a painted sky easily torn, nothing like the real thing, a dwindling mural of lost time.

[fatal-kalopsia]

its just a small bump in the road, but if your going a million miles an hour it feels like the end of the world

[fatal-kalopsia]

being in a parasocial relationship deserves worse marketing. You were all just people on a screen after 40 minutes the title screen repeats. Your smile made it seem like everything was clean and easy so thats the way i lived through the screen. and when you cried i cried with you because thats what good friends do. but the show is over now and im back to reality where its just me. you took up all my time and so im left alone to grieve a loss that never disappeared. because half way across the world you sleep with money as your pillow while i cry over spilled milk…but there was no milk, there was no glass, i knocked over air as i punched at the screen…because maybe we were friends on a different screen, we had to be because this pain is too deep

[fatal-kalopsia]

its just mental illness they say. with time and effort it will all go away. however the thoughts still remain. its my duty as a writer to feel everything if you take that away from me what will i be? without this perpetual empathy im a floating orb, the glare on the ocean reflecting back its beauty. i see and i expel. without this sickly part of me i am a drop of water in the ocean fresh, yet soon salty, ordinary.

[fatal-kalopsia]

i have only ever been in love in my dreams

i wake up and i feel the reminance of it

no face is ever etched into memorie

but the feeling of ever touch is

its not pleasure nor is it a firework

its safety

and i ask myself how my mind forms a feeling i have never felt

and i wonder how much love i shared in a past life

to now remember nothing of anything

but somehow the feeling remains

because in my dreams love has no face

it has no name, nor color or creed

its just the feelings between me and you

my you

[fatal-kalopsia]

i am drowning, yet i am free to breathe whenever i choose

[fatal-kalopsia]

were all just aging bodies

filled with childhood dreams

ones that fill us and leak

cause the world teaches us to dream but not let them go

so we prune, untouched and overfilled

and we bloat

corpses observed by those who can still dream

a bunch of adults with a childlike soul

we all die victims to this deceit 

[fatal-kalopsia]

im angry as i will never live up to the version of me my 8 year old self longed for

[fatal-kalopsia]

do you wipe my tears to soothe the ache or to make sure no one sees you make me cry?

[fatal-kalopsia]

when i let you go, it becomes a question of whether or not the world could love you better than me