call me when you get this

The silence again appears, and what can I do at this point? 

Here I am facing the mirror, asking if there could be any justification?

But the choices were made, I made the bed now I lay in it. 

All sorts of mannerisms and expectations, all kinds of reasons for no relations.

Break out into anger, a scream, a whaling of thunder, a deep sigh, then collapse.

I don’t get it, how they say I should relax when the…

situation ain’t changed. You can never tell me what’s the right way or the

wrong.

If all I ever bring with me, are the list of regrets I composed, will I be able to sleep when alone?

In my dreams, I go home. Wake up on the floor where I slept, vacuumed and swept. 

Still lint-y, I think how did I find the courage to write – the process to think of the things and pour them out when they kept me up at night.

When we sold things on Poshmark, I’d walk down to the post office to get them sent. It ain’t much, but maybe $40 from their pockets to ours. We coulda lived on that for hours. Now all those people bore me, ignore me, they used to adore me. 

I ain’t feel adored in two months now, conversations are like tweets and news reports. This person got surgery, other got cancer, other turned out to be quite the dancer. Some people I guess I must have unsubscribed, or maybe they did… but what now?

Remember the time I ran down 164th street and Riverside, I burst into tears. No one saw that coming, they think they understood. There is a sea of thoughts under the hood, I didn’t get known for no good, just existing on that level. 

Baby, I danced with the devil. Known angels and demons with all of my scheming, dreaming, is what I meant. Life taste sweet like curb cement, or pavement, or sediment, or arguments. 

Breakfast at Tiffany, we could wear suits for the night at the symphony. I always wanted to feel how rich, white people feel. But maybe that ain’t really real. Maybe I’d feel like more of myself if I wanted to deal with myself. But ain’t nothing good in the moment, not the dental and sleeping hygiene, not the base aspects of mental health. 

The TV shows death from an ocean away. If I were to learn teleportation today, I’d be in those places when I think – and how long will I last? My fate protects from the times that its cold. I made some shots and missed some shots, shooting hoops at the gym. Making peace with myself, waging war on a whim. If it wasn’t for him, me, the him and me guy. I don’t think I’d have the faintest idea of why?

Nor less who.

Nor less when.

What? Where? don’t pretend. I never pretend. I always pretend. I might self-extend. Overreaching. Once again I face the two am or 4 today, the same other way. Leaving and arriving. Subsiding. Residing. Reciting. Some part of it is truly exciting. 

What am I doing? All of these questions. All of these questions. All of these questions. Call me when you get this.

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