Blue, The Most Human Color

I said I liked him because he was fragile

That’s a lie

I liked him because he’s me in disguise

I thought I had passed this sort of stage

But, of course, I’m proven wrong

I’ve heard all sorts of crazy things

Such as people seeking out a soulmate

Which is ridiculous

Humans ought to be compatible enough to love and devote themselves to anyone

But few of us are what we ought to be

I’m so sleep deprived

My morality and brain are both slowly slipping from my grasp

I cannot combine the glittering synapses

Instead I’ve become a sickly stew

Coffee, Tea, Browned-Butter…

Identity is a really strange thing

I feel so anachronistic in my combinations

I am a “Yes, And-"

Hybridized

Everyone is, to some degree or another

Otherwise they’re completely insane

Or something

That’s what education likes to spit at people

I’m less jaded than the average person, I think

I like being sad

I think it’s the culture

It romanticizes pain and makes people think they’re edgy for experiencing basic human emotions

I’m not edgy

Nor am I pure

Purity is a fallacy, but then again, so is everything

I’m not afraid to say that I hate a great deal of people

I like the idea of binding my wrists behind me, and pulling towards the bastards-

Snarling

I’m the most pretentious person I can think of

Maybe because I’m the judge at this moment

I want the dust of my bones spread out into the cosmos

Doesn’t everyone?

Emotional abuse is probably a matter of relativity, otherwise I think we’d all be guilty.

Hell- we are all guilty.

I love moral ambiguity, it seems the truest virtue-

It makes creatures portray themselves as themselves without having to pick sides

But everyone’s their own hero, everyone knows that

And even when bad is acknowledged, if you’re smart or simple enough, you can justify it

The whole world will believe you, you know

My joints feel pulled apart, My skin is peeling away, and I know I need to take twice as many pills as usual in order to catch up with life.

I like to laugh at what other people are afraid of. I like to laugh at what I’m afraid of.

It’s a defense mechanism, since I know I’m weak, and I need dumb tricks like that to get through the day.

Late at night my conscience decides to bless me with shadows, to make me feel as if everyone I love is watching me at my very worst.

At least I’m honest, you know that

My mind is a husk of it’s former glory

I see all that I should be drawn to, and merely sigh

Yet, as I age I grasp onto childhood more and more

It’s scary

I don’t want to be in that place ever again. I know it was good, but people say it’s because I was dumb.

I must’ve had some sense, then.

I feel all knotted up again

When something new reveals itself, my soul likes to rewind to a hard time and replay what I thought I had already dealt with.

I hope next year will be better.

That’s my constant prayer.

But I’m just being pessimistic which is far from useful. I’m either too happy or too sad 

And either way I’ll be damned.

I might just need my sleep

But I have way too much that needs to be done

I need coffee and tea and browned-butter.

Of course I’m a parody of myself

That’s what identity is, you know.

My foot broke yesterday, I think, but I haven’t bothered to check.

I’ll be stuck and slow regardless of it, so-

But back to talking of him.

I do enough of that, and that’s the problem

I know it’s misplaced mourning and longing

That seems to be what lots of love is

But if it works, it works-

And finding someone to rip your ribs open for- even for a moment- is beauty, indeed.

That’s why art is to appealing.

In art, it’s what you’re forced to do.

Sometimes it’s a tiny incision right beneath where one’s heart should be

But other times, and this is even better, all organs are exposed and the emotion is as raw as blood.

It surprises people when I talk like this-

I’m soft

But I’m both, remember?

And besides, I do try.

Getting a response, regardless of what it is, is what I aim for.

You have someone’s heart for the briefest of seconds

And you cradle it like a child

Nurturing is a sacred side effect from the emotions you possess.

Possession is too interesting to me.

I really ought to spend less time thinking about it, but at least I’m thinking.

And that’s more than can be said for lots of people.

Bad pasts are an explanation for bad behavior, not an excuse.

That’s why I try to be the unachievable good.

I have no right!

I’m far too privileged.

I know I have privilege, which is why I’m so pretentious. My life isn’t really that bad, it’s just my heart talking.

He’s an idiotic thing, anyways.

I feel so full and so empty simultaneously.

I think I need some beloved catharsis. 

And sleep, but that’ll result in a hangover, I just know it.

I don’t want to risk that.

Instead, I just want you to listen.

I want you to listen.

Because when you listen-

I own you.

But I’m gentler than I seem, nurturing and all that, remember?

Well I do, and to hold your soul gives me more joy than anything could express.

I know this is becoming a perverse little valentine, but I mean it!

I’m not ready for emotion, I never am, it catches me off guard and breaks my heart.

I love people with broken hearts.

I think what god wants us to do is salvage the best bits of fleshy guts and sew them together into something beautiful.

Art is assimilation, after all.

Some people call it collaborating, but none the less, it is seen as good by the masses.

I have a needle and thread, some arteries and my little scar to add to the universal heart.

It will be dead and blue, but you know it’ll be gorgeous.

Th sun is coming up already, I’m sure, and I’ve been trembling from the rain. 

I feel like I’m breaking, but it’s probably just the insomnia and pills talking.

Humans don’t often break all at once, unless at their own shaking hands.

There are many things I’d try-

Despicable things

But not that.

Many see it as beautiful, and it’s cruel to say (I think) but I’d have to agree.

I just don’t think it’s the way for me.

I’d rather go through a trial by fire and emerge scorched and victorious.

I have confidence in my beliefs, though they’re ephemeral.

At any given moment, I’m committing my all to something.

And right now it is this,

This is nothing and everything all at once.

Well, that’s too easy.

If it were that simple I would’ve given up ages ago.

I never used to understand the oracles, when they ranted of dragons like this, but I feel the presence of that fire.

It pushes at my back and singes that hair on my neck.

I’m going to either burn or drown, I just know it.

I’ve been threatened by both, but it’ll happen, I think.

I’d rather not know.

GOD, I DON’T WANT TO KNOW.

But life doesn’t work that way, and if I commit to things like this, I have to take the crazy sorrows with me.

I could wander my lifetime, in dreams like this.

But I scare myself far too easily, I can only hope that fear translates to others.

I know, I love what I fear.

It’s harmful, but it’s also religion and family and government and identity.

I’m terrified of identity, especially recently.

All is changing, and I’ll no longer have my many graced anchors and chains.

Instead I’ll have complete freedom, and my wax wings are already melting.

I can’t do this forever.

Nothing lasts forever.

And that’s good.

YES, AND

that’s bad.

I always wanted to be what I am, but I never really thought out the wish, when I had no communication to bounce off of.

No wonder commitment scares me as it does.

It’s easier to say, nope they’re my sibling.

And continue like Wilde, bringing tumultuous things upon all but yourself while you’re standing dazed within the vacuum.

I like playing crazy.

You play what you know.

I cry and laugh at the dumbest things.

And I’ll be gone, eventually.

I don’t fear death-

I fear Lilly’s ghost.

I need the voices surrounding me, otherwise all I hear is myself, and that’s deafening. 

Sleep is for the weak.

And I am very very weak.

As is he, who I’ll continue to blame.

Though it never was anyone’s fault, not even my own.

Things are allowed to just be things once in a while.

And those moments are beautiful.

Beautiful.

Beautiful.