a stupid poem about nothing
Everything is nothing.
…
That’s a stupid way to begin a poem.
What does that even mean?
Everything is actually a whole lot.
My academics are not up to par.
My talking stage is a disaster.
My friendships are under maintained.
And my self worth has never been worse.
Is that everything?
No.
Yes.
Maybe
This feels wrong.
Writing this I mean.
There's no flowery metaphors.
Or complex language you have to google.
I’m watching this alabaster monolith succumb to attrition.
My agastopia has atrophied into revulsion.
I hew and hew and hew ad infinitum.
Until the simulacrum in the glass of car doors is unrecognizable.
Does this fit your standards?
No.
Yes.
Maybe
Helpful.
Tell me what you want.
And it’s yours.
To be captured, defined, and accepted.
To obtain perfection in a messy broken sense.
For my being to extend right up against the walls set around me.
No further than that.
To be viewed top down and admired.
To be better than I am.
You’re losing yourself.
I see it.
Stop romanticising your pain.
It’s ugly.
I know.
You will soar.
You will fall again.
You will break.
You will rebuild.
You will move.
You will station yourself.
Someday.
You will have everything.
Everything is nothing.
Exactly.
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