I still don’t know how to start this train of thought

The conductor’s on break

I’ve had a few thoughts and I wish I hadn’t

But they were on sale

Paler than the skin underneath my arms.

 

First dates and candy canes, amongst other things

Are seasonal and sweet

And I can’t stand sugary bullshit

So I’ll brush my teeth before bed

Spat down the drain.

 

Because after I crawl under the blankets

The insomniac warfare begins

My cover’s not good enough

Heartbreak bullets whiz past my conscience

Scuffing the soles of my shoes.

 

I don’t know how to speak

Rendered immobile and deaf

To concepts that I already don’t understand

God-fucking-damn-it

Perpetually being mundane is amazing.

 

Over-analytical antics are not an aphrodisiac

At least, not that I can logically perceive

But the coffee’s fresh in the pot

And it’s much hotter than I am,

So how’s your day going?

 

Good? Good.

I’m happy that you’re doing fine

The backwards part of that question is

I’m not asking, only

Trying to relate.

 

My own frustrations with myself

Solved only by others inside my mind

And there’s hope like a tumor

Growing unattended in the third ventricle

My heart swells to a breaking point.

 

 

 

In order to relieve the pressure

I am prescribed to dream

Of growing old with someone I love

But those dreams always end how they start

I die alone.