── your past becomes your god

[lol]

"failure" she utters, "you're an absolute failure and i'm honestly disappointed in you." nothing appalls me more than having to hear those words. the last person who had any sort of faith in me has given up. that strand of rebuttal fight she had for me is evanesced. atychiphobia: the fear of failing. this is it, this feels as if this is my sudden demise. today is judgement day and tomorrow my casket will be engrailed in some dusty soil beneath shriveled up grass. i had put half a thought of this happening, and i surely imagined that i wanted it to happen; although now, i'm regretting all lost signs of devotion. the feeling of losing your number one fan, a family member who put their energy and time into you all for it to fall into the grasps of the dark is . . . sickening. what am i to do now? all i have done is the provided obvious. crying, undoubted self-nourishment, and spinning the wheel of pros and cons. what can a failure really do? not much i suppose. she doesn't understand me, and just when i thought she was— she lost any sort of trust or control from me. her words were so raw, so defined . . . i knew she wasn't sugarcoating it. i believed i was going to be able to relax for the summer, to feel as if all my hard work was going to pay off somewhere— it didn't. maybe i should just rest? allowing myself to fall into a deep slumber only to wake up to the deafening reality that i'm in doesn't seem that . . . enticing.

"failure" i utter, "you're an absolute failure and i'm honestly disappointed in you."

[lol]

another day of breathing, i'm doing alright.
they're estranged, no longer talking or on the same page. when were they ever?
she's going down her own route now, and i'm proud.
he's sabotaging her in any way he can, and i'm embarrassed.
they're alienated in their own way now, and our lives are all different.
another day of breathing, i'm doing alright.

[lol]

lucky like tossed dice
a sore probability
one for one for none

[lol]

artery? → art

[lol]

clouds are a beautiful stash of air
they're something i can't even bear
pink, yellow, white, orange, and more
the hues that they emit aren't a bore
i hope they never go away
they're like birds of prey

frail and quick they are
they represent repertoire
too close to home for memories
clouds are like a treachery remedy

personified as the heavens
you rest easier than dough
too pure for earth's crevice
when night arrives, you rest in lullabies

sleep well with the stars
for you are more than mars

[lol]

colors are so tasteful, yet so ominous at the same time. your eyes register more colors than you can possibly imagine; although, what are those tasteful colors really? there's a name for all your basic colors, but you're making up new colors every day. you're seeing new hues that haven't been identified yet. colors that vary from ombre's to solids to more than complementary blurs.
colors are considerably tasteful. another basic correlation to one of your basic senses. they twirl like ribbons and spin like taffy through a fundamental machine. you register each one like a cash register and spit out each color like a lyric or note to a song that is... tasteful.
more to process, but after 45 minutes of digesting - you're ready for more colors.

[lol]

i'm wishing for warmth that wasn't so severed away from me. things— topics were left so bittersweet and yet, i've tried to keep them bedridden for my own sake. it's not fair how cold i feel. the plasma within me is mutating to a boreal frost and my fingertips are barely strung together. the snot that rummages from my nose is plastered with something piercing. where is that warmth that everyone else has? the one that covets such vehement withdrawals of love and passion. i feel like a walking arctic zombie, barely there and contained. i want to feel rivulets of sweat perspiring from my insensible flesh, and have it be hot enough to scald a lizard. let me feel something, anything other than the numb, dull, and inconsistent trepid of you.

[lol]

winter wool that's enough to keep you warm during the cryo-centric weather, you enjoy the feeling of impervious ardor basked against your skin - just enough that isn't leaving the cold to tinge at your sensitive tegument. boots spaced out in the thick snow, you glide your gloves over the thin layer of transpired water. lips are upturned into a bemused grin whilst your cheeks are beating a new shade of red. you might appear like the infamous rudolph the red-nose reindeer, but you don't really care. snow is so threadbare, leaving nothing new with the substance that everyone is merry for. you just appreciate the gleam and glow that it holds - not the snowball fights, the reoccurring snowman build, nor hot cocoa trail you leave behind in the snow. it's so much more than just... that; although, much like everything else, it melts. it puddles away into a barrel of nothingness. you surely could've imagined all the fun that you had with that mere pile of snow seeing how quick it was to vanish on you, but, you didn't imagine it.

snow is so threadbare, leaving nothing new with the substance that everyone is merry for. whenever it happens to snow, there happens to be a newfound revolution of jolliness pressed on the inside of your chest. you should feel that joy everyday. i want you to feel that joy everyday. a merry happy halloween season to you, and all a goodnight.

[lol]

give it all you got
no complaints and no regrets
do it all again...

[lol]

i've been livid these last couple of days, or rather weeks...
they've been utterly and completely stressful for me, and
they're going to haunt me for what might be an eternity.

i can't stop thinking about it... her, them, they- all of it,
of them. the emotions that tattled off my skin have
embellished my flesh in a thick coat of gloss. i'm apathetic
to most things now... not like i wasn't before, but, in a
hyperbole sense.

i find most things, topics, people harder to digest than they
were before. i'm so shaken up... how could i not be? the
ignorant texts, the mindless immaturity, and the lack of
parenting is... subliminal. don't get me wrong, i hate my
family. it was a stubborn alignment of me being placed
here, but god, the fault of decency around here is making
it harder and harder to breathe.

i need to just breathe. please. everything is quite literally
so difficult. one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight,
nine, ten... so on and so forth. just let me breathe.

i can't get a breather around here. i'm constantly on my toes.
they purposely have me running through obstacles that i
don't need to be running through. i would be so much...
happier and externally different if they understood that. i
might even be performing better at social excursions;
although, they don't understand that. he... wouldn't ever
get my 'problems'.

tired, exhausted, ready to combust... the cat has its paw
construddled around my tongue- beckoning me to bite. i
need to bite... and write. i've realized there's been a lack
of journaling in this thread. i used to do it so often, but
then i fell back on a lack of privacy. i need to do this more
often... not that anybody would read these, but just the
motion of allowing these thoughts roll out onto my keyboard,
and screen is satisfying to say the least.

2 more years. 2 more godforsaken years. i'll just keep
chugging my writing abilities on my sadness. it's fine.