poise

i’ve made amends with the errors decorating my skies

my ghosts and demons loom over my open world, making it smaller

but i’m growing accustomed to it

i keep accommodating them further for the mistakes i have engraved on their tombstones

vile and atrocious and

silly and childish

but mistakes nonetheless

they’ve broken down the stones and worn out the letters

it’s sadder than the tombstone itself

the hum of the trees cry with me

as i look for meaning with my bare hands

.

.

nothing comes to heart or mind

the nothingness speaks in nostalgic tongues but i’m not familiar with them yet

guess familiarity can feel foreign when the mistakes are so daunting

i’ve talked a lot about my mistakes

the poise they’ve held in my mind

the gracefulness and importance they carry themselves with as they peep into various corridors of my brain

i never seem to learn

i never seem to catch them

i have been cursed with the gospel of being

silly and mischievous

vile and atrocious

timid and selfish and

of being purely childish

maybe i will learn someday

maybe i will be brave

but today seems like a day to rot away

so i’d like to die instead