This looming fear
I don't blame salvation for not existing,
and my head for annihilating every good thing.
Itís okay to breathe shallowly to understand
how your heart works and
to sit for hours paralyzed by the sun.
Some days I consider myself subhuman
but self-aware enough to know what not to expect.
I know my way around this city,
how to break a humming silence,
and I can fathom trees parting
without the relief of a lake.
Sometimes, I try my hardest not to cry for help.
While there are times I reserve my crying
for more irrational things,
like unpredictable finales
and parties I wouldnít
have attended anyway.
To truly understand heartbreak
you must first be infested by its power,
and I'm a body infested from my throat down to my chest.
I donít care if human nature is another false behavior
or if I can truly believe
in the intentions of others.
Right now, I am holding a vigil for my memory.
May it take the shape of a vacant valley.
May it sliver with zero grace.