i don’t care anymore

she is a myth, a manifestation of my sorrow and loneliness

she can fuck right off

along with the rest of the world

checking out

stop the ride

i want off

i’m sorry but i’m not

just done with it all

thanks for all the nothing

trapped within a glacier of doubt and fruitless need, he screams into the frozen prison, mutely demanding peace, his hands bloody from trying to claw his way out, now pinned in crimson ice, the light refracts and blinds him but brings no warmth, just more impeding than helping, and this is his life

everything he hears is poetry, and it amplifies the pain, echoes it into a feedback loop of longing and need that can never be sated, never be quenched, and he needs quiet, just silence, but even that sings an alluring tale of want, the petty barbs and cuts of everyday, resounding, shaking his core, breaking his faith, sapling his strength

as if he is always falling, never landing, crashing, smashing, just sheer plummet, the screen behind him transitioning from fairy tale to happily never after, and all he can do it scribble the scenes, not live them, not experience them, not feel anything but impending doom, and it’s not fair

it’s not fair

it’s not just

bit it is what it is and all he can do is swallow the bile and hatred and try not to mutely scream in remorse and sullen anger, not lash out at the world that keeps spinning as he falls suspended in place

suspended in the space between heart ache and heart break, between real and fantasy, a nonfiction account of fictional characters prancing through syrup rigidity and commonality, broken and reattached in an endless hell that is his and his alone

alone