Misplacement

Every time I speak
I feel as if
only noise came out of my mouth.
Long
tiring
useless
words.

There is
this ever-present
sense of misplacement
like I'm here by accident
like any moment
I'll be erased
and re-written.

Fine

I don't sleep.
I run around
distracted and
in thousands of pieces,
trying to be everywhere at the same time
trying to do everything.
Constantly exhausted
but
too tired to think
my mind constantly buzzing
with this thing
or that
I don't have much time
to feel anymore.

I answer I'm fine.

*

I feel 

like I'm running out of words.

Like I'm running

on borrowed time.

It kinda hurts
but it's also kind of expected
that you're not going
to pick up the phone and call,
you will just be gone
at some point.

*

Can't find it within me
to even lie anymore.
Just fighting my way throught this
biting
biting my way to the core.

I've found a liking
for the taste of my blood
the thumping of my heart
I've found
it's good to be me.

*

  I have made a promise to myself that I will write more. Be it here, be it elsewhere, with this name or another, I have resolved to write more. When I'm not writing I feel as if I lose sense of my self little by little. Like everything become's unreal and too distant, I feel even more of a spectator thaan I usually do, too much of an outsider in my own life.

  It's not exactly that writing helps me make more sense of things. It's just that I can always go back and pick up the train of though I had then,  a train of thought that is no longer, maybe I can understand who I used to be better, see where did things change, where I chose to turn a blind eye or where I was an obnoxious asshole (I would argue that I was, and am, often). It's also evidence in a way, memory is always distorted, and while what you write down is never the pure truth, it's part of it and that is the closest thing I can have to proof that those moments existed and they were not a daydream or a nightmare, or an idea when I drunk or high. I still catch myself wondering whether childhood memories are true or not. After all, repeat a story enough time to yourself and it will replace the actual event.

  Just in the same way that photographs replace our memory.