{ the weariness }

and no one ever says the right thing,

because none of us knows what to say.

----------------

there's a purpose to everything i do, down to the number of dashes in that line. i count everything out, i think about it. it all matters, to me. and that helps my world to remain aligned, it keeps me calm as long as no one else comes in.

but when they do, all the intention they don't see goes to waste.
and suddenly i feel foolish.

----------------

i laid in bed and channeled all my energy to a single beam of focus.
picture it --- and then picture an eraser sweeping over that face, that possibility.
don't let the outlines reappear. and hold that emptier and emptier space
in your mind's eye until all of it, every last trace, is gone.

----------------

i don't know what's harder

being let go of, or letting go.

----------------

i am tired
i have been let go
i cannot stay here anymore.