106: placebo

so i lay here

waiting

to fill in
where
voids need filling
words need breathing
memories need replacing.

i'm here.

to fill in
where
happiness once thrived
hearts once lived
love once grew.

i'm here;

no strings attached.
no prescription.
no charge.

nothing
to offer
but me.

just me.

but i'm here.

you might not want me
i might not need you
we might not like this

but i'm still here.

because
to go forward
seems too painful
and
to step back
seems too cowardly

so i lay here,

waiting.

and if you do choose
to pick me up,
take me straight
down, oneshot
or swallow me
or chew me
or if you can't
carefully,
carefully,
place me back
where you took me

-- careful.

i might expire
if you don't act quick

i might be toxic
if you hold on to your pain
for too long

this could turn out well
this could be your last chance
it's your call.

105: help seems to be the hardest word

the door is firm and locked tight,
the windows high and grilled shut;

if i jumped high enough to peer outside,

   i'd see you waving.

if i listened hard enough through the cracks,
   i'd hear some sounds.

i know you're out there.
i know you're calling me.

"come out"

i can't.

i'm not sure where the key is.
i'm not sure if i can leave
or if i even should.

it's too bright and noisy out there.

hey.

would you like to come inside?

---

one of those days