I travel, I plant, I paint (mainly walls), I scoot, I tie dye, I write

I have your back
And you have mine, right?

Oh wait
What’s happening
Apparently not tonight.

Well that’s deflated me, I don’t know what to say
My voice has escaped me
I’m bitter at my lack of words because at least they’re free
Now I’m an empty balloon
I’m Abandoned, I don’t mean to sound dramatic
But I thought we were forming a habit
Or is it too soon
To say we had a bond
Now there’s not much holding on
That wouldn’t throw everything whizzing around
To go back to the beginning
To the empty shell hidden in a corner, or behind a sofa
The used balloon that can’t be found
Or wanted anymore, the use has been used
Back to nothing
Instead I’m feeling
Awkward in a place I’m not fond.

Now it’s playing on my mind
I’m running on a vinyl record, trying and trying to rewind
But no, I should have known
That’ll I’ll be sent spinning when I thought I was in control
And old routines are coming back
They aren’t old friends, they’re uninvited
The thoughts are so unwanted
I couldn’t sprint any faster
There’s such a shift when you realise you aren’t  in charge
Now any trivial problem feels big and large
My internet keeps stopping
This pen is running out, It’s night
Youtube is buffering
Why won’t you stand with me?
No rightness, no light
Am I on my own?
My phone is flashing
My brain is rushing
I hate going back to feeling
Alone.

I’m not, no I’m not alone
It is temporary I know
But frustration is currently
Taking over my body, everything is too loud
And a thick brown goo is seeping into every entity
Where’s the miracle cream that gets rid of your pores
Just please give me this, this one time
To break all the rules and defy all the laws
Oh how I wish I had the power
To move on
To switch off
To be self inflating, to not get lost
To free me of myself, I know I’m not helping
To melt me of my own frost
And gather
Into a river that’s far less depressing
And free roaming
Because I know I’ll always have a current
But rivers are forever moving and it would be soothing
When the dark parts get burnt.

I give my vulnerability to the world like it’s in fashion
Like high end couture
Dripping, oozing, coated with passion
Not that I would know what that is
Maybe more like a present
I’m not sure if you’d judge, but I’ve given my own consent
And taking the gift back is something I do frequent
But it’s okay
I feel okay now
It’s always a blip that takes over somehow
I can be my own rock and I have a few others scattered
I pride myself on being open
But not for me to get shattered.

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