depressed and insane

i miss feelings i used to know,
and love i used to have.
for thing that are gone forever.
and time, that leaves us alone.


the sheets were usually dirty,
of you and me,
The mechanical pencil tips were usually broken,
and somewhere in the creases of bedding.
the laptop sat as a foot warmer

right now,
i realize,
You were something i liked looking at,
for the aesthetic value,
but i lacked the ability to love you,
independent of my emotions.
and as i sit, looking through glass, i see you
in your brilliance,
and i wish i could look at your pupils again.
feel warm again.


but these are things of the past.
you told me not to revel in the past.
you told me not to worry of the past.
it was gone and it would not come back.
which is true and i wish i could forget it ever happened

because i cannot love.
i have lost the innocence of my first try,
my un-prejudiced stab at the sticky, blinding feeling- when beetles crawl down my throat and sing Roscoe Holcomb blues as they find my intestines and chew them apart.


and i keep your kisses. and i pretend you care, and i care,
and i can tell you things.
and you don't get upset or contradict me.
but i miss feeling like you stabbed me in the heart
or ripped out my hamstring.
because i felt important. something i lost with your trust.

but really,
because i loved you.