The descent into darkness
To become one with the waves, wind,
Whether with your eyes wides open
Or tightly shut, hoping
For the more pleasant dream
And reality to come;
Becomes a relief.
How to disappear?
Lately, when I have free time,
When I’m not doing some kind of work,
Or preoccupying myself with something,
I’m just left to sink in my loneliness.
It feels so deep
And I think I’m drowning in it.
For all I know it might be a puddle
But there is no hand to hold
No one I can ask to help me up.
Only bubbles and silence,
And the feeling of suffocation,
Everything seems to be slipping
Through my fingers like water
Though I know I never had a hold on it
In the first place, and I never will,
But foolishly I try
Unfathomable, this feeling,
And I will never
Be able to
- violins I: we're the superstars fuck everyone else its all about us
- violins II: why do we always get the boring parts
- flutes: we're so lonely
- piccolo: lol fk your ears
- french horns: and im not even french hONHONHON BAGUETTE
- oboes: IM SORRY I TUNED BEFORE I SWEar
- violas: evERYONE ALWAYS FKUCING FRORGETS ABOUT US
- trumpets: wats 'p'
- trombones: wats quiet
- cellos: im either boring af or exciting af and there is no in between
- bassoons: im so posh but i really just honk like a truck
- clarinet: *squeaks*
- timpani: EVERYONE LOVES ME BOM BOM BOM BOM BOM BOM BOM
- bass clarinet: lol where am i
- tuba: *waits for a wagner piece to do something exciting*
- harp: im just a more sophisticated piano
- piano: FUCK YOU HARP I GET CONCERTOS WRITTEN FOR ME SCREW EVERYTHING WHO NEEDS AN ORCHESTRA WHEN YOU CAN PLAY EVERYTHING ON ME IM THE STAR OF EVERYTIHNG
- english horn: im literally only useful for dvorak's 9th like what am even i doing here
- basses: semibreves, tied to a semibreve, tied to a minim, tied to a crotchet, oh wait a quaver wow exciting ok back to semibreves
- cornets: trumpet wannabe
- cymbals: BOOM CRASH CRASH CRASH CRASH IM SRO HAPYP CRASH CRAHS
- saxophones: i never get a good part until a jazzy piece is performed which is never
- xylophones: am i meant to be here?
- bass drum: MY TIME TO SHINE FUCK YOU ALL
Mouth like rinse clean,
like I’m going to erase all the others
who came before me.
Mouth that formed the words
“Come here,” and I did,
and I wasn’t afraid.
I close my eyes and
see your clothes floating
in the lake. I open them
and envision you wearing a
flower crown, the rain just
beginning to fall outside
and us, slow-dancing in it.
You are made for poetry
and it is killing me.
Here, these words.
Here, another metaphor
for the heart.
Here, my heart on the table,
waiting to be dissected."