I am not depressed

I'm not depressed - I'm human
I feel more than one thing at a time
I take comfort in sharp objects
While you go do your drugs or spoil your liver
I really don't see a difference here
I really don't see the difference
And still you pick and pull at me
You say, "oh hey! just cheer up"
And that line makes me want to vomit
...on your favorite pair of shoes
I am a creature of spite and my stomach is full
...of the years worth of bullshit I have been fed
Don't temp me tonight
I am not depressed but I am ready to purge

Plastic

I have painted my face with plastic... one too many times
And now I am stuck in this same old expression
And with it I sing the same old tune to make you smile
Underneath it all the problem lies... it's a lie
I don't give a shit about you
I don't give a shit about a goddamn thing
But smile pretty for the camera
And smile pretty for the client
My world is burning up and my bridges falling down around me
But I will smile until I'm stuck here...
And the truth is I already am
The truth is I am always real.... underneath the plastic
The truth is I am always much worse than I seem
But give me your money... give me your love and admiration
Because my face is painted nearly perfect...
Lips pointing up towards the corners...
Eyes never looking down

Useless

This is useless
Please don't touch me
I am over it... again and again
I need distance
But the future feels so far away
And the further I get from there...
the closer I get to here and now
And I wonder, really? Do I care?
And now I feel more careless than ever
More numb with each stabbing pain
My misery seems to manifest in physical illness
And I am miserable so I am doubled over in agony?
And I don't see anything fair about this
I don't really see the point
Where the fuck did that double rainbow go today
Gone in a hot second of my being completely disregarded, once again
And I am exhausted by this
I am exhausted by your presence
It makes me want to disappear forever
It makes me want to finish what I had once begun

Ghost

Perhaps I am a ghost... because when I speak you do not hear me... but you still talk to me in darkness and ask me for guidance... my answers just never seem to really come through... no matter how loud I scream... the words are lost... and you fall off the edge of the world despite all the caution I've voiced. What is a ghost to do... but finally disappear?

Like

"I don't know how I can miss you this much and still not have met you."
Might be the sweetest line I have ever been fed...
And I am hungry... but not foolish.
So I will only eat with caution... chewing eat bite over and over again.
A comfortable enough consistency to swallow.
And I swallow hard. And I like it. But only so much...

And my blood runs hot but slow...
To keep my body temperature at a very specific degree.
And part of me wants to just let go, for once.
But that other part screams in my face like my uncle did once when I
was 6 years old and crossed Berry Street without looking both ways
and nearly died. I will never again forget caution.

Flirting with danger is very far from throwing yourself under a bus.
But red looks good on me and blood turns me on...
These little inner conflicts fuck with me, like you do.
These little inner conflicts define my passions...
What defines you?

Ironic

I am drunk tonight... wasted even!
Arms stretch out... fingertips to you..
I am so confused. Half of me doesn't even care...
The other half cares to much...

And I wonder if you have moved on and I hope you have...
I do... Because I have... but have I? Without closure?
How far can I get?????

And I don't spend months of my life talking to someone for nothing.
I expect I'll have a friend... in the end...
But my expectations of you have always come with fog and uncertainty.
My expectations of you have always fallen short... as I fall.

Whoever is here to catch me... is never you.
Whoever is here to lift me up... if void of your voice.

And Irony strikes loud and CLEAR tonight...
Because the wall you've hated has fallen... and you are not here to benefit
You are not here to eat the fruit.

Instead I fall into a strangers gaze...
Much more familiar than yours ever was
Instead I find myself in "better" company
When it's you who has worked for this

But you choose not to be here.
You choose not to eat.
You choose not to ever speak to me again?

Alright. Irony. Okay.

Watching You Deflate

I have decided to post some of my "private writing" from awhile back... finally. It has posted in order... so you can find it by the link below. It is relevant to my newest posts... strange enough.

http://rilomonroe.blogspot.com/2009/07/watching-you-deflate.html