drained
of their
purpose.
leaned against the
bathroom door,
trying to find
a place to
put my head.
washed my face
and thought
i've never looked older than i do now.
my bursts of insomnia
are making the house
tremble on its
foundations.
when i look for things,
they are never
where i leave them.
my paranoia smolders
until midday,
and i forget to eat.
pacing up and down the hall,
insisting that i need something
i just don't know what
all that i touch
turns to velvet.
and when i finally
decide that i hate you
...
you turn around
and make me feel
miserable.
drinking only
yellow-flower tea,
and potent potions
which just might
cure me.
wake up before
daybreak so that i
can think about
how cold my
hands are.
curl my knees to
my chest, mutter
my misgivings.
& if you could just see me now...
devotion as counterfeit
as it is divine.
your parody of friendship
puts me in shivers.
so this is inertia.
fold up your legs and put away your face
if you fall asleep on my shoulder
i swear it won't be the last.
& it's always the quiet ones who do too much thinking.