sweet dreams
it’s bedtime and i’m having a dream. i’m walking in the backyard. in the middle of the night. the grass on my bare feet like green razor blades slicing my toes to shreds. the moon beaming down white light in all directions. darkness and light battling. creating a cascade of luminous beams. violently distracting me with blacks and whites as i walk to the edge of the backyard. leaving bloody foot prints. feeling no pain. my toes reach a pool of empty cool space. negative space that lures me in. toes first. knees. neck. nose. until i’m drowned in nothingness.
i never wake up.
———
whitney matewe
i’m not real
in my fantasy world he loves me. he’s the boy that i love and he loves me and i’m happy. and i never have the dark thoughts that make me sit up late at night under covers staring at the walls peeling at my skin. tearing at the seams. in my fantasy world things are warm and soft and clouds hang low and flowers stay in bloom and nothing every dies. and nothing ever fades.
in the real world i don’t exist.
———
whitney matewe
tiny black cloud thoughts
sorry to be so heavy. but honestly i don’t get the fucking point of life. i wish i could take a break from my life. indefinitely. all the shallow pettiness of life seems like a tremendous waste of time. if i’m destined to go heaven or hell i’d rather go there right now. and be done with it. because living life looking for a purpose in the empty echoes of the wind is fucking with my head.
a conversation
“what would make you happy?”
she asks me, but she really doesn’t want to know the truth.
because truth is what would honestly make me happy is if i didn’t exist.
if i was a completely different person, with different brain patterns, habits, DNA. with completely different people in my life, with a different history, different background or baggage that follows me wherever i go like a plague that infects my thoughts and my actions. if i lived a brand new life without all these fucking demons that grab at my throat everyday.
instead i say “i don’t know”.
shambles
i show them your picture
strangers on the subway
i tell them about the boy
who stole my breath away
who broke my heart into
a dozen shambles
———
whitney matewe
M.I.A. - Bad Girls (Official Video) (by noisey)
besotted
i’m the crumbs slipping between fingers
landing in hidden places in the gravel
i’m the frothy nothings that float to the top
of tepid glasses of root beer soda sitting on the windowsill
i’m the song he hums, the words he forgets, the words he never knew
the heat in the dead of night
that makes him toss and turn
———
whitney matewe
