Q-Tip Ideas

I used to clean my ears so much
and I didn’t understand why until today

I was trying to push the voice that told me that I was better off falling in my own, through to the other side

I’d wet the end of a q-tip, hoping the water would drown out my thoughts, instead it made them float

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Rocking

I’m being rocked back and forth like the cradle we were all warning children about

But instead of falling out, pieces of me were already missing, clinging to the insides of a tree’s bitter fruit

I’m still yearning to be held like an abandoned kitten left at the side of the road, only my family is still here

I’m trying to see if the tides will tie me over with their frightening charm, but I’m slowly breaking my own neck looking back at my old self

Straining my ears from pushing my own voice down them to see if it’ll slither out the other side

I just want to cry without being sad and laugh without anger

Chaotic Technicality

Music I listened to while typing this poem out:

Without You – Oh Wonder

I didn’t want to push, rush the chaos                                                                     Oh good old chaos, destruction                                                                           reconstruction of this mind digging torture

You know, no one can drill in                                                                                 deep where there is only surface now                                                                       so get chipping away

Use your best tools and your latest techniques                                                 mine are so old and as concrete                                                                                     I don’t worship things anymore                                                                               but I like the idea that I’m already                                                                           creating a home for myself

After I leave this dreaded head space                                                                           I walk around so weak and I used to                                                                     appear quiet because I didn’t want                                                                     people to know about me

Now I trudge around dragging my demons                                                       along my skin for people to see but                                                                             I don’t bother with quick answers

Conversations, I love those. Intellectual                                                             spill your cries and what makes you cringe.

I live for what’s holding people back so                                                                     I can compare my pain I need out,                                                                             so maybe stop digging now and                                                                               just throw yourself ontop of me                                                                             while my body sleeps and                                                                                         soul drifts towards the bottom