literature

This Hai Life

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rebel-brat's avatar
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Published:
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Literature Text

i've been so caught up with trying
to be grown up
or a version of it
that i've forgotten
the universe is in my head
and he spun a new chapter
but i closed the book.

i'm good at beginnings
because there's nothing to compare
but i hate middles
preferring
to jump straight into
passion

burnt umber skin
and brown eyes that whisper
truths i didn't want to hear
the truth is we are the same
too afraid to admit
too selfish to actually care.

we wanted the chase
the thrill was fun
but it's gotten real,
so i bail
because i can always count
on my feet to fuck me over.

i'm good at beginnings
but terrible at endings
i enjoy drama
still just a teenager inside
believe that love is
fireworks and paradise.

but hell isn't brimstone
or fire.
hell is this place,
devoid of emotions,
and i'm a vacuum
still numb, as before.

so i write epitaphs
epiphanies and soliloquies
to try and make it seem
like i'm sane
like i'm functional
when i don't know anyone who is.

i'm of the belief
that there are no haunted houses
only dark staircases
ghosts masquerading as people.
these memories tainted
by the midnight nostalgia;

we paint futures
that evade our clutches
because we chose
to walk away
like it hurt,
when it doesn't.
it really doesn't.
Another SW walked in and out of my life.
we always look for connections in things that don't matter. 
© 2015 - 2024 rebel-brat
Comments6
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PoetsHand's avatar
This is a wonderful poem! I like the use of metaphor ("believe that love is fireworks and paradise.") This makes me think a lot of my past and present.