Clairvoyant

February 19th, 2024

A few months ago I went to a psychic fair
And they knew my connection to two
The guy I’ve known for lifetimes
And the other was someone new
They made it clear
Neither were my soulmate
But both were lessons I needed
While I find my path to fate
Now that they’re both gone
What was I supposed to learn
The guy from many lifetimes
Just constantly returns
But the newer guy was just like the first
So I guess that bears the question
How many more lifetimes
Is he supposed to be my lesson
Because this lifetime sent him to me thrice
His attributes in another person
I fell for the second when I couldn’t have the first
Their similarities are certain
Both born right after Christmas
But 364 days apart
Alike in so many ways
Including the way they hurt my heart
But the second guy is actually the third
Because there was another before
I keep looking for guy number one
Every time he closes the door
They have almost the same name
And live off of the same street
Will I keep looking for him
In every one I meet
Am I doomed in reincarnation
Why does he have a hold on me
What is it I’m not learning?
Why won’t he set me free?
A psychic can only tell you so much
And I don’t know what I believe
I need to cut this connection
But he never stays gone when he leaves
Maybe it’s because the stars aligned the day we met
When Mars and Venus encountered Pluto in Capricorn
And I heard this karmic cycle is ending this week
So I’m letting go for a new connection to be born

Mr. Smithuationship All Over Again

January 3rd, 2024

The way you look me in the eyes
You look mesmerized as you smile
Watching my reaction instead of your favorite shows
Why are you in denial?
Is it because I’m taller than you?
Does height make you insecure?
Does my looking down at you
Make you hate yourself more?
Rotating through phases of being so mad at you
To being hopelessly head over heels
This state of confusion brings dopamine rushes
I’m hooked and I can’t appeal
In July two years ago
I wrote that one day you’ll be easy not to remember
There are still no photos or mementos
We’re losing our spark like an ember
I woke up in your bed
For the sixty-eighth time
Why do I keep coming back
When you will never be mine
I woke up in your bed
For the fifth night in a row
Forgetting this is nothing more
Than time that is borrowed
It’s two o’clock in the morning
And you’re telling me to come over
After I just told you I think I hate you
You tell me you need me because you’re not sober
I listened while you begged me
I told you I can’t drive my car
You asked “not even for me?”
Who do you think you are?
It’s been almost seven months
Since you had returned
You know how I feel but still played that card
Leaving me feeling burned
And I know what you’re doing
You want to get inside my head
You’re telling me you need me
To get me in your bed
Forty-six nights this year
Thirty-three in the past
Seventy-nine nights all together
Of memories not meant to last
I thought about getting you a birthday/Christmas gift
Because combined is something you would disdain
But when I didn’t hear from you that week
I let your birthday “slip my brain”
I didn’t see you until the New Year
You wouldn’t stop checking your phone
Apparent that I wasn’t the company you wanted
But at least we’re not alone
I put my arm over you
You pulled me closer holding my wrist
I listened to the rain knowing this isn’t real
But it’s been a while since I had a moment like this
It’s now twenty twenty-four
And I’m waking up in your room with you
The same one I’ve been waking up in
Since early twenty twenty-two
I’ve lived in three homes since then
You think I would have grown
Because you will never change
And that’s something I’ve always known
Sometimes you’d hold me close
Sometimes you’d push me away
Sometimes you’d leave my messages unread
For the remainder of the day
This was our eighty-fifth night together
We’ve had numerous ends
With this history we’ve shared
How can you say that we’re just friends?

The Meaning of Life

November 19th, 2009

Things I hate when I’m sick:
being too cold,
being too hot,
blank walls,
covered walls,
being sick.

This bed has been
a prison
for me to lay
awaiting more punishment.

Suffering,
sweating,
freezing,
shaking,
worrying.

I wasn’t worried about being sick,
it was school,
my future,
my career,
my meaning in life,
my homework assignment.

I never put much thought
into any of it,
but I’m a senior,
I graduate in seven months.

How could this happen?
I thought I had more time.

I feel so pressured,
rushed,
confused,
lost.

This can’t be real,
this is not real.

I’m going to wake up
and be back in Freshman year
and everything will be
okay.

But it’s not that simple.

Searching the web for ideas,
steal somebody else’s life,
make it real,
make it mine.

But it’s not that simple.

My head hurts,
I’m not okay,
I’m cold,
who am I,
what is my purpose,
it’s too hot,
I’m so confused.

I never felt I had a purpose,
so what do I say when
I don’t have plans for my future?

So what do I write?

The light flickered,
ideas in my head,
here,
and then gone.

I’ll put my future aside –
and think about now.

What am I here for?
What am I good for?
What is my purpose?

I have no purpose.

Then the light flickered again,
and stayed.

I then knew
what I had to do.