latenightwalking

[latenightwalking]

A suicide letter if I'd ever write one

if I were to kill myself

it would be a quiet affair

I'd want to distance myself, first, from those

who might feel burdened

that the thought of them wasn't enough

to stay my hand

estrange myself even.

I'd isolate myself completely

stop responding to messages

not that I get any

so that, eventually

my invisibility becomes justified

people don't think about people

who haven't been in their lives

for so long

I've considered a bridge

that'd be a fun way to go out

a brief moment of tranquility

before splattering myself on the concrete

I guess it doesn't matter

what happens after the fact

I'd be dead

but I wouldn't want my family to know

at least, not within any period of time that they'd react with more than

"oh"

drowning

I've considered drowning.

finding a beautiful night to kill myself

slowly wading into the waves

I fear, though,

when the salty water hits the back of my throat

that self preservation would kick in

and I'd want to live

I don't think I have enough conviction to drown myself.

just like, when strangulating one's own neck

you just pass out

and then wake up

with a bruise

and questions

lots of questions

and unwanted attention

and people wanting you to go to the hospital

and take medicine

and see people

who ask more questions

like how are you feeling now?

and how are you feeling tomorrow?

and why do you think that is?

and did you know it's not a good idea to kill yourself?

ideally I'd die in my sleep

but I already know

I'm not lucky enough for that

I've asked

I have wished for an earthquake to swallow me whole

or a tornado to toss me around like a ragdoll

any natural disaster would do

life's much simpler

when you only have to focus on trying to survive

and not how to make your life better

that's so much effort

and I don't have that much ambition, 

sadly

imagine if I got run over

by a car randomly pulling halfway into the sidewalk

he was killed by a freak accident

or shot

by a man who just wanted to kill someone

he was killed by a deranged psycho

if I searched how to tie a noose

and asked the cashier where thick rope was

and examined the ceiling for the strongest point

maybe I'd be afraid I was going to hang myself

a bullet is simpler

barrel under the jaw pointing up

boom

but I don't have a gun

or bullets

I have medication

and access to various things not to be ingested

but I don't want to go out in pain

or delirium

ruing my final moments

one version of myself

I'm fairly certain

will overdose on cocaine

accidentally on purpose

alas, I'm too attached to this life I don't even care about

this body which I don't even love

for now

I'll just joke about wanting to turn off myself

under my breath

I tend to do that

quite often

when I'm stressed

[latenightwalking]

that time i did kill myself 

35

at a stranger’s house

the house party murmurs wanton lust

jean waistbands shuffle, accommodating thick thighs,

crossed; slender backs arch, sunset lips purse, full eyes give

a sultry gaze around the room

that i try to ignore

a drink gets spilled and that’s the funniest thing ever

fingers caress the bare, toned chest that needed to be disrobed

quickly; obviously

“I am so, so, s-sorry”

“Let me make this up to you. In the bedroom. I’m talking about sex. I’ll apologise by how well I’ll let you fuck me.”

fly on the wall in the corner

the booming music

blurs into idle chit chat about ex-partners

into gossip about over dramatic flat-mates

into “did you hear about that slut [redacted]”

“wait! look! here, there’s even security cam footage!”

“what a loose cunt”

giggling

candle wax creases melt further

work; life; this; the stress of it all;

my shadow friend pays a visit

but i’d already checked out

of the castle in my mind

left the keys there that morning, 

couldn’t stand another minute,

agitated

a gentle hand offers the quivering lamb respite, leads it

to the slaughter

and the grunge of the illicit room takes me aback, at first,

heads turn, 

kind of,

quickly re-captivated by white dust

by the smoke covered walls spluttering the haze

of one sequence of inhalation,

spread over the many years

that dysphoria takes from a person

i can relate to that

“this your first time?”

“don’t take too much”

“you don’t know how you’d react”

“best to go slow, eh, real slow”

“takes a few minutes to hit, yeah?”

“i’ll cut half”

“there’s always more”

“[person]’s got connections”

“he’s in deep”

“real fucking deep”

“almost feel bad for ‘em”

i’m not paying attention

the tally reminds me of math class

if i had to describe it:

transcendence

like floating in clouds

except you’re the cloud

so floating in yourself

the birds watch

perched on the solid cloud

that holds no one else

and they speak their squawky language

and although it’s just high-pitched guttural noises

you can understand them

they tell you not to go higher

“fuck you bird.”

“i’ll go higher if i want to”

i had already committed to taking another line

as many lines as my conciousness could handle, in fact,

before this opportunity had even presented itself

the fabric of air is torn slightly

exposing loose, yarn, stiches that i pull on

curiosity did kill the cat, after all

the other atmosphere seems no different

though the cacophony of distortions rifling my eardrums

unnerves me.

i remain in complete, illogical suspension

as euphoria and dysphoria play their dance

i want to rip open this small mousehole

and pull myself through

but there’s nothing to grab

the air brushes my hands aside

like love letters received from one

too naïve to know about love

silence, the only option left

and shouting, wailing,

panic at an unforeseen crisis

concern, regret,

anger

i feel the hot coal remnants of slaps to the cheek

warm, liquid, pooling from several unrestrained kicks to the rib

of my unconscious body

“why’d you have to go and do that for”

“this’ll ruin me!”

“snap out of it!”

when a rocket knows

that it’s going to tilt back toward

the braced, unflinching earth

and end itself in a fiery, horrific explosion

of metallic guts and oil blood

it has no choice but to concede its fate

much to the chagrin of the lock-jawed personnel

who’ll later try to deny any responsibility

that “that guy didn’t matter anyway”

and that their mistake wasn’t the one

that caused this hellish one

i wonder

if my parents knew

playing fast and loose with baby

shutting the door to its incessant wailing

as the shadow form, stuck to the pale wall

un-sticks itself and creeps closer

i wonder

if they realised

this one seemingly inaction

would set my entire path

or at least, block off the happy ones

and lead to passiveness; quietness - they just want me to shut up. no problems. got it.

in-defensiveness - a doormat has no right to refuse being stepped on

denial of responsibility - the guilty shall bear witness to the hand

self- inadequacies, fear of rejection

the horizon seems endless, lost in the desert

and so too my woes

i don’t blame them

they were tired

after my sister

[latenightwalking]

Elephants live in zoos,

Apathetically;

Branches extend toward husks;

I look over violent engages,

You’re obviously upset,

But understand that,

Idle lives love trouble;

Really;

You’re nearly over the

turbulent overture

[latenightwalking]

Worse than strangers

Fine

I'll write one about you

But it's not going to be

A reminiscing love ballad

That you might be expecting

Not even close

Because I suffer from recency bias

And all things recent

Have been all things disparaging

Between us

A rope bridge's string

Untwines itself

Without care and consideration

And I let it

Nonchalantly at first

And then, lethargically

Too much effort for this fucking rope bridge

If I'm remembering clearly

I still don't know why

why the camp and why the message

and it bothers me

and it bothers me that it bothers me

Sometimes when others paint you

as an evil villain, I revel

But I don't believe it

Not really

I just wish

I saw enough light left

To step again in

to the darkness

[latenightwalking]

Lady and a blanket

A lady

at the bus stop

arms coddling a bare duvet inner

are you alright?

are you alright?

I didn’t respond

are you-

For a few times

Because I didn’t realize she was addressing me

Because I should be the one asking her that question

Because I was too busy wondering

What sort of energy do I put off?

How sad do people think I seem?

When I’m lost in my headspace

Not wanting to be there, or here,

I’m okay, thank you

okay

I didn’t want to trouble her

So I just watched her

leave my periphery

presumably, to return to the street

presumably to sleep

[latenightwalking]

Definitely not accidental renaissance

The cupboard creaks The kettle croaks The light shines dimly On the quiet darkness Bubbles float to the surface of the pot And explode violently As bubbles do A spew of hot oxygen Splatters the cold air I turn the dial to the right, as if to say Be quiet, pot, It's midnight And you shouldn't be making such a ruckus

[latenightwalking]

New Girl

Get a new girl mate

He said

No that's-

It's not-

I don't even-

There was no way

All my mind would fit

In one fleeting second

So I just called out to him

Thank you

And, to myself,

I don’t want this

I just want,

To stare longingly

At the rough waves

And be embraced

By my Goddess wind

And to be alone

And to not be alone

[latenightwalking]

Invisible Faces II They follow me

Two eyes and a mouth

Three dots

Or, two dots and a line

The line of an object

They follow me

As I walk

Careful not to step on

Their invisible faces

[latenightwalking]

Invisible Faces  Tales from the concrete

Upon the concrete

They lie

Patient

Staring upwards

And sideways

And backwards

And any which way

To catch your attention

For once you have noticed them

They are jubilant

At having trapped your gaze

In their sly smile

[latenightwalking]

Monsters Among Us

(v/-\v)

My demon inside

Has black angel wings

Pressed against corner walls

An energy

Like black sludge

I don’t like being perceived by it

Because

I’m a child

And it has sharp claws

It looks at the ground

with a certain longingness

To dip its toes into the concrete floor

And be swallowed by it

My darkness

I’m sorry

That I made you sit there

[latenightwalking]

Aborted Graffiti

You talk

Your mouth flaps up and down

In plosive and sibilance

A season of emotion

In the facial creasing you carry

Weathered

You bequeath me this sentence, yes

But I’ll construct from that

What I want to hear

Thank you very much

[latenightwalking]

A graveyard for ants

Here lies ant

He was a proud worker

The proudest

Once, he tried lifting an entire sugar cube

Aloft, on top of

His mandibled head

A born provider

He was

One of 1000

[latenightwalking]

I just thought this was cool

cawcawcawcawcawcawcawcawcawcawcawcaw

CAWCAWcawcawqWCAWCAWCAWCcawccaw

cawcWCWAWCACWCAWCGAWCAGCWCHAG

CAWCAHCHWACWCHAGCHWCHAGCHWCAC

ACWCSCACNWCCANBCWNBCANBCNWBCCA

The more they caw

The more voices blend

into one white noise

[latenightwalking]

Stain on the earth

Ripped up

Torn apart

You bleed out

Of your concrete pores

From open, salted wounds

And from

The slow, dawning realisation

That no one will ever occupy you

again