The wallflower shrivels
Into a ball of burning hate
I don’t know why she’s come to this
Perhaps the water came a bit too late
Perhaps the sun came down a tad too bright
Perhaps too long lasted lonely night
Perhaps so long went on the drought
That abundance brought on only doubt
Now the wallflower shrivels,
Assumes that it’s fate;
And if it always was to come to this
Why bother with the wait?
Everything I try to write
Feels written somewhere before
And everything I think to do
Is the beginning of another war
Everything I almost hear
Bears the sound of slamming doors
And all the feelings we hold near
Are a poison making us its shores.
Everything that I should know
I know is something past my years
And everything that I could ask
I don’t believe is worth the tears
So everything that I could say
Rarely will I dare to whisper
And everything I must or may
Only comes out as a whimper.
I told myself that I was more together
But all this time I’ve just been damaged
And every time I pulled away
I claimed was so as not to end up bandaged,
Not realizing that only pain
Could be the reason that I sit here ravaged
By a fear that will not go away
Of the loneliness I’ve barely managed.
My breath has been replaced with lead
And I’ve a soul that now is nearly dead
And a heart that for too long has bled
On the field of raging war inside.
No one sees the battles every day
Where each side claws to keep their foe at bay
But I can feel the casualties, in that same way
You know that someone dear to you has died.
But I am forced to hope it’s not so sad
That maybe there’s freedom to be had
And it won’t just leave two sides half mad
Wondering who can be right when both sides lied.
I see you tugging at the threads
And I laugh at my own pain;
Oh, my little fool…
You’ll understand when you’re insane.
“Are you quite done, my dear?
The candles are already burning down
And I’d hate for you to start this party
Only to be too busy to unwrap the crown.”
“Wicked girl, never waking well;
If you sleep life away, it will always be hell.”
“Stupid girl, never thinking well;
When you make a mistake, it’s not worth it to tell.”
Don’t walk, don’t run
Don’t lay in the sun
Don’t stare at the moon
It’s all gone too soon
You’ll make a mistake
Best not to wake
You’re wrong either way
So what can you say?
I’m so sorry… Of all the things I could have been, I became this. I could’ve been like my brother and reached out and made a life for myself where I could.
But instead I’m here. Still just sitting here. Waiting for something to befall me, be it destiny or accident.
Probably accident. Screech, crash, bang, and then I’m gone, in all likelihood. It would be just like me to not be paying any attention and accidentally step in front of a car. It wouldn’t be on purpose, of course. But it wouldn’t be exactly unwelcome.
I sometimes like to pretend that I can see the future. The prediction is always the same: I’m going to die alone. It’s not even a future anymore, it’s a fact. I’m going to die alone. So what’s it matter if it’s distant or soon?
I’ve lived nineteen years, going on twenty. So young, and often much younger than I should be. And yet those years, these days, they crawl by like an eternity, and they’ve never changed in form, not really. The world is still a distant thing, and I am still… what I am: The person who walks on the path before me. And it’s still a circular one.
My brother sees this. He sees us all going in circles, ducking our heads, diving into whatever we can to hide. He wants it to change. He wants it to change — but he doesn’t want to change it. None of us do. It would be like organizing a junkyard… while being attacked by a pack of wild dogs. Nobody wants to take that on. Especially when the thing we’re taking on, is the nothingness of never taking anything on. Someone has to start. But each of us vows, it won’t be us.
We rip out the empty page, and we color it in curses
As an expression for our rage — or, we hide it all in verses.
Or maybe in the dead of night, finally we vow a change:
A solar powered flashlight — only, the sun is out of range.
So we fall back into darkness, and it seems forever deeper
As we creep further into this, because maybe it’s a keeper
And we don’t have to hide, if there’s nothing left to see
So let’s pretend that it’s a side, and call it destiny.
I wonder if you cry like me;
I wonder if I ought to say something…
I wonder if there’s anything for me to say;
For there’s nothing you could say for me.