Ripe

I can't tell you why I'm not happy right now. Nor can I tell you why I am happy.
I can't tell you what color her eyes are, Nor can I tell you what color her hair is.
I can't tell you why I love this song so much nor can I tell you why it makes me feel so terrible.
I can't tell you why I think the way that I do,
I can only tell you that I think that I wish I knew.

I can tell you that I've never felt such a need to cry before now.
I can tell you that my throat is dry, lips are cracked and there's a slight burn in my eye.
I can tell you how frustrating time is when it can't decide if it's fast or if it's slow, and
I can tell you all these things that are simple, nothing more than facts that I know.

They don't change anything about my life or yours, though, they don't mean anything special and in the small moments where we feel like more words equals more meaning, what have we really gained from them?

I'm brittle and I tremble as the wind of your judgmental gaze comes towards me.
I am ripe with words to say, but they just rot and fall away. I have no real retort and I feel at a loss when you just talk and talk and talk. I guess that's better though because then I don't have to say anything back to you. I can just let you babble about useless things that have no positive meaning, or no power whatsoever to either of our lives.

I want to cry right now, but for reasons I cannot tell you. You the general mass of people who will probably never read this. I want to light a giant fire and throw in everything that makes my mind full of racing emotions only to find the finish line a cliff. And at the bottom of the fall is death. Then I want to jump into the fire. Then I want to tell myself that you might care that I'm burning alive, that you might try to come save me or that you have even thought about me in the past two days. I love you but I've never been able to tell you because you don't fucking exist.

    Just remember, if I'm the joke then you're the punch line, because I built up all the excitement but you're the one that will always inevitably be the one being laughed at.