Pulled or pushed towards a future unformed, floating, untethered without any grounding until the split second the self begins to spill out.

Taken to the edge but never liberated through free fall, always held back by invisible forces, invisible hands, invisible causes.

I can’t form the words to articulate why I must go, all I know is that I can’t stand still. Things are swelling and rising under the surface of my skin and without movement I fear they’ll seep out the crevices of my body, coating me in a translucent film; I look like me, but something’s changed. There’s a shift in the flow and I am propelled into the restless sea as though there’s no other way I could be. I have to go I can’t stop walking because what I’ve left behind will catch up to me and I don’t have the strength to face repressed memories, forgotten dreams.

Every time I move through the air I leave the impression of a girl who fades as quickly as she appears there. It’s more difficult to run from temporary things because they disappear in an instant and appear under another guise but the same message still lies inside: face me, stare into my eyes, absorb my being into your skin until you forget where you end and where you begin, until you’re floating with no foundation that’s the only way you’ll meet me; in the vast nothingness between this second and the next when you give me freedom to evolve into what you didn’t need or know.

The words are scrambled because I walked for miles it felt like something was trapped in the walls of my house I could hear it’s silent screams reverberate the marrow in my bones I could feel it’s deep sorrow as if it were my own and so I ran out the door with no plan of where to go I just had to get out of that home had to race out of my skin and let the rain disintegrate my bones.

Life as Linear:
We travel down the same road letting the mist in the distance morph into the concrete we come to walk on. Every time you raise your foot it feels as though eons elapse and you’re almost certain the second you touch the ground it’ll collapse and you spend your entire life trapped inside this fear walking in a straight line neither there nor here and maybe if you’re lucky you’ll stumble upon a hill and the view from the peak makes it almost worth the struggle it took you to reach it but that feeling lasts only a split second before you remember that heights are only made possible by surrounding chasms and your feet are eternally moving forward bringing you closer to the dark

to the deep

to the place that was once the only thing you knew but is now forever changed by that split second view

and you’ll spend the rest of eternity (or the rest of your life? whichever comes last) perpetually grasping for that sense of invincibility and falling short time and time again fucking hell will you ever learn your lesson

Naive girl trying to make life into a poem tracing circles she calls time encapsulating psyche in a rhyme she doesn’t know a feeling until her hand casts a line on a moleskine framing letters that tell her who she is and she’ll believe the frantic writing because it’s the only clue she’s given.

Take a sip of your tea before it gets cold
Wrap your self in cliches before they grow old
Form a self out of sweaters discarded on the sidewalk
Find meaning in identity before the sun dips behind the clouds you must do these things before the sun goes down because the girl you know today will be dead tomorrow and it’s completely arbitrary whether this is a cause for celebration or sorrow.

I feel as though I’ve emptied every last drop of the liquid of self onto these pages the words are running off the book and down the table and I’m losing pieces of me forever as they get washed away by the rain

Is this enlightenment or just another fucking relapse again?

God I hope I’m okay

God I hope I’m okay

God I hope I’m okay I’m too scared to do the things I know I have to do in order to move past this gaping pit filled with tar that’s subsuming my psyche but I only think in absolutes so when I’m caught in the middle of a grey day it just feels like things aren’t real how could this be real life I thought it was supposed to be more vibrant than this

Was there something I missed


Familiar objects get drawn into the realm of the illusory with me

The only way to break the trance is to find something new

Take a risk, bet on a chance

Anything I’ve touched before

I can’t be convinced of it’s existence for sure

If I’ve tainted it

If I’ve made it into the same substance

That coats my soul

By em

a sometimes poet, sometimes painter, always philosopher

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