Closer

March 18th, 2025 

I never thought we’d get close enough
But I learned the changes of your tone
From joking around in a group of people
To the disheartened frustration you’ve shown
The care when speaking to your sick dog
That I’d hear sometimes as you’d let me go
Distinguishable differences in your voice
That you let me close enough to know

Diagnosis

March 4th, 2025 

I guess I’m confused
I don’t know what to do
Every thought that I have
Just leads me back to you
Are you the underlying cause
That’s been keeping me sick
Because as nice as you can be
You’re now acting like a prick

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.