Kingdom of Crybabies

Don’t touch me I’d rather scream. Crying is for babies and I have seen all that I need to see. Don’t speak! You’ve said enough, babe. Kick sticks! Get a life! You’re staring at a fucking screen all day! Don’t tell me that you belong here. Don’t talk to me ever again. I’m going under the ocean and this time I’m not coming up for air. I forgot the color of your eyes. They turned to the reflection. They became possessed by the great source of energy. The thief of everyone living isn’t a force to be reckoned with. You cannot kill your own creation without killing yourself. Your eyes are responsible for everything. No fear no hate no pain no broken hearts. You could’ve had my way. We could’ve disappeared into the park without saying goodbye to anyone. You could’ve dipped the screen in water. You could’ve looked up instead. You would’ve closed your eyes if you could, I know. You would’ve remembered that sleeping is death and that death is a shift in dimension a different shape a different face. Every face looks exactly the same if you look hard enough. What’s the matter my love, are you giving up? Have you tried and tried again to no conclusion no consolation? Are you still craving something? Does she know yet? You died and forget to mention it to anyone. You vanished without a trace! What a shame, you could’ve seen everything. Sound herself would’ve stepped before you and danced on your naked lap until you stopped crying. You could’ve created something beautiful. But you distorted language instead. Now you fear death and love and time have been forced into separate definitions and all you give a fuck about is the ending. There you go again sitting waiting begging for a tomorrow that has already came. It has been between your fingers the whole time. You never bothered to look at your hands. Aging is staring you back through a piece of glass. Break it brat! That’s not what you look like. Trust me. I’ve seen everything. You look like me. I look like you. A simple nights sleep takes you into the next life and you awake every time expecting to see the same thing. Well, here it is, your wish is my command. If you want to speak about saggy skin and bones breaking, then it will take you to decay without hesitation. Beauty is your upmost concern and you fear death. So you rot from the inside and pretend this definition of beautiful doesn’t feel disgusting. But every time you speak of it you puke. In my dreams you cut pieces from my body and try to mimic my emotion. You replay the scene a thousand times until you’ve memorized the patterns. But as soon as you try to act them out I’m gone. You keep forgetting the boy drowned. You can’t remember the water. So you waste away without a single moment and wait for time to come. But love doesn’t work that way. Stop waiting! I’m not giving up on you.