on several better notes. 

its been two years.

No drunken texts 

No calls

Nothing, 

and i see this alive myself 

and i see this transcendent being that buds in my life

in the form of a giving tree. 

they've never bought me lunch or kissed me

not of platonic and romantic.

just this alive them….

problematic, but a nice addition. 

they don't ask me for anything, they just exist as an equal

it's been nice having them.

i hope one day you read this.

am i just crazy?

Or were you there. 

Everything is so loud, and my mind can't concentrate. 

I swore that you were there because of your white top, and your jet black hair.

I'm doing this thing to a binaural beat.

Imagining your face and your hands holding mine in a dark room, 

to these sound waves. watching myself let go of your hands. 

into an internal pit of darkness. 

I think my mind saw you and chased you like a rabbit.

I, concerned, held a stern face. the red light illuminated half

of my face. and I saw your shoulder. 

I wanted to leave so badly. I think that's how I know. 

you are so much better gone. 

/2/27//2023

 I think about the greatest story ever told quite often.

On a note somewhere writes the winning strategy for defeating all evil in the world.

Evil may be something you and I disagree on, but my word

is not blinded in poetry. 

I drank blindly yesterday to conjure the feelings that I lost last year. If I feared the everlasting end to my life, I would be here right now. For some odd reason, I feel. Since the day I closed the door, I've been alluded to and clouded by something dark.  

Some sort of evil that keeps me loving and holding on to the lost life I once had. The comfort of it. Everything since has felt cold and dead. 

I found her. Rooted in selfishness. In this concurrent memory. I studied my memories and I live in them. I remember that the ghosts of my memory are no longer here to stay, but the beings in them live alive and well. They care for me as they used to, and I care for them concurrently. 

She told me that there was no such thing as selflessness. 

All selflessness is rooted in selfishness.

The ghosts of my past conjured and stared. Some agreeing and others disagreeing in her statement. My glass braced my palm. And was set aside to grip this statement. Her eyes changed, and our sex became different. In every memory. And the trees dried up to die outside of my window. Something had changed then. I wasn’t aware of the new lane my consciousness guided me through. But she left and I remained sad. If the libation of sharing morality is not given with someone you hold closest, what else may you benefit from? 

So I return to my memory with comfortable clothes. Knowing that the ghosts and the note of the answer exist. 2/20/23

 i was shot in the face on tuesday. i had headphones on, i played video games. Life is different now. setting my alarms, waking up later. i have absolutely zero motive to be the me i was with you.

i guess i was fake. i want to make you dinner. We used to eat these little ice creams because i loved you and we picked them out.

There was one night i woke up and the window was open. i saw the tree on the side of our house and i saw the moon. It was colder then. you were so warm and there with me.

we had sex that night and we also had eaten something you made for dinner. I think it was curry shepherds pie. your naked shoulders. i wrapped my arm around you. and i told you i loved you. you were asleep. i thanked the moon and stars and god for you. 

that was 2 years ago. and it feels like yesterday. everything feels like yesterday. but i think i just hold on to the thought of you. 

sometimes i forget you aren't here.

i think about what we could have done. 

ive come to terms with loving you. I thought that maybe that with time Id grow to hate you more than i did, but i actually cannot. I think about your laugh and your smile. your little fits.

i just think the world has a little more for you than me. and that's okay. the world has a place for me 2.

2/17/23