surrealreal

[surrealreal]

what do you do when nothing you write feels good enough?

[surrealreal]

i find myself thinking of the summer of 2010.

when my mind starts to drift and the words fly over my head. im in a small bathroom on the 31st floor, with the brightest white lights and scents that tickle my nose. i remember a guessing game, the whole time we played.

roses, lilies, hydrangeas or lilacs, i always run out of guesses, but i never say i don't want to play. the rules are always different, each time you pull me into a game, but there's one that always remains the same,

lower your voice, no one will know. this is our special game, so do what you do best, and don't tell a soul.

[surrealreal]

picked, pulled at, torn apart.

till every piece of you is just that, a piece that doesn't belong. the whole of you disappears,

still, you try and you try to sew yourself back together. self care, inner care. the poutier your lips, the thicker your thighs. perfect a piece and smooth out the seams, so you could point to it, say, "see? not all of me is ugly."

you tease out a laugh and sit there, pinned to performing pretty. you hold ragged fragments up to light, hold them just so, and stuff the cracks with passing praise.

you sit there, not certain if the pieces that make up your tattered face have moved, till the perfect moment passes, as it always does,

but the work remains.

[surrealreal]

you meet her in a haze.

she lures you in with warm, smiling eyes, and a honey husk voice. she whispers in your ear of all the fun to be had, spinning tales, a mirage of how much brighter life could be,

together, always together, her grip ---

& when you find yourself alone, her hands detached. As your body fatigues and goes lax, she slithers away with her sight already fixed, but always ready to circle back.

[surrealreal]

i used to think passion was heat.

[surrealreal]

Bothersome beast, comforting friend

[surrealreal]

i'm in search of something i've never felt.

something I've longed for but, every time I felt close, I'd eventually realize it was entirely out of reach; still achingly unfamiliar. I wonder if I'll ever know enough of this world to recognize it if we ever crossed paths. i hope.

i hope i don't blind myself with cynicism anymore; with the illusion of safety.

[surrealreal]

i wonder if ill ever know what it feels like to love without all the complications.

[surrealreal]

i wonder how many people have lived their lives mostly inside of their heads.

how many experiences have i missed out on because being alone with my own thoughts was the safest place i felt i could be.

but, what a waste to think about all the time i wasted hating myself. what potential, gone. all that remains is ahead.

mehmimimiwtvr.