when am I going to wake up
I’ve been waiting
so many years
to one day
feel an existence
but it never comes
every day
passes the same
spending more time
staring through the glass
I don’t think I’m real
I’m just waiting
to get out of my coffin
and come to life
I was buried
when I saw the TV glow
and shattered my skull
through the screen
into the pink opaque
how do I know this is real
I don’t think
that I feel anything
that isn’t manufactured
I want a love
that’s only a snapshot
in time
I want a life
that passes by
in increments
everything blends
into a perfect motion picture
that slips away
far too easily
no matter how many
movies I film
I can never shake the feeling
that the character is me
I take pictures
but the memories still fade
there’s too much to carry
my consciousness
is only deluding me
I don’t exist for myself
-
when I was a little kid
I tried to kill myself
with a bottle of pills
and a warm bath
it’s not because
my life was all that bad
melancholy was pulling me
all the way down to hell
dragging my bones
like a sick dog
I thought death
was the only way
to feel alive
that the closer you are to it
the more you are living
so maybe if I die
I’ll finally wake up
I’m still sleeping