Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

May 3rd, 2018. It’s been 5 years, and I’ve spent that entire span of time proving you right. I’m alone today, and I really shouldn’t be alone today..

“Why do you want to die?”

~I’ve asked myself that question a thousand times, and I’ve come up with a thousand different answers. It depends on the time of day, whether or not I’ve seen the Sun in the past 24 hours. It changes based on how full I am, and whether or not I’ve cooked a decent meal for myself versus being surrounded by a mountain of empty pizza boxes. Maybe the biggest factor is how empty that brand new bottle of pills is after 1 not so bad day, and where I left my favorite knife last night…~

“I’m asking about today, right now. What happened? Taylor…what happened that made you want to die? What made death seem like your only option?”

~But dying isn’t my only option. Do you think I’ve come to this conclusion because it’s the only thing I have left?~

“Why else would you be saying it, acting the way you act, making everyone so worried that they felt the need to come find you in the middle of the night in your apartment to make sure you were still alive?! Why else would you want to die unless it was the only thing left?!”

~There are so many other things, but the main one would be this; I could die, or I could live. I’m picking between the 2.~

“Bullshit. You owe me more of an answer than that.”

~No, I don’t. It’s simple, and you don’t want it to be simple. You want a logical path. Well I didn’t follow any logic to get here, so I guess it’s a path you could never follow. And that upsets you, probably just as much as anything else I’ve said or done. You can’t see what I see, and you feel left behind, right?~

“You always do this…you always twist it into this…this thing, your thing, it always becomes your things, your words, your right and I’m wrong! I do feel left behind, okay?! I feel left behind, betrayed, abandoned, discarded, thrown in the garbage! I want to understand, but I can’t! I can’t, and I never can! You are somewhere in the universe, and it’s…it’s really, really far away…Taylor, you are right here in front of me, right? You’re voice is so close I can feel your breathing…but you aren’t here. Taylor…I can reach out my hand and touch your arm, but you aren’t really here…You feel so far away, when I never wanted that, ever. I would have followed you… I wanted to follow you…Taylor, please, tell me, why can’t we see the same things anymore? Hey, Taylor, why? Why? Hey, just tell me, please, I want to know. Why is it you want to go where I can’t follow? Where nobody can follow? Why do you want to die?”

~…What was it I wanted to be when I was finally all grown up? Do you remember?~

“…You said it didn’t matter what you did, or where you lived, or how long it would last. You said you just wanted to live and grow up to be happy…”

~That should be everybody’s goal, right? To find happiness, that’s all life should be. The details on how a person gets to that point, they shouldn’t matter, not in the long run. Don’t you agree?~

“I want that for you, Taylor. I want you to have happiness, so why do you want to…”

~Die? What if I said it’s because that’s what would make me happy? You wouldn’t wish for my happiness then, would you?~

“Taylor…I’m not sure…”

~You can’t imagine death like that. You can’t imagine death as granting somebody happiness.~

“People are always dying, it’s part of life. Sometimes people are suffering, and death would be better than the pain of living. Is that what you’re getting at? That you are in so much pain that dying would be a mercy, and thus make you happy?”

~Absolutely not. That line of thinking is a copout. My suffering, my pain, I can gauge them against other peoples, and it’s obvious I’m one lucky person. I have more going for me than going against me.~

“..But you still want to die?”


“And dying is the best way for you to be happy?”

~Dying would be scary. The thought of not existing frightens me. I’m scared out of my mind, and every time I take another pill or cut another notch in my skin, I feel a real terror, that I’ve gone to far this time, that I won’t make it back. I’m terrified of what death means.~

“Then why seek it out?! Why are you doing this if you are afraid?! God, Taylor…you have people who don’t want you dead! They want you to live and smile and be happy! And you make those people happy! You add so much to the lives of so many! Don’t downplay it! Don’t do it, Taylor! You don’t need to die!”

~I know I don’t. I get what you’re trying to say, and why you’re saying it, and it makes me feel really, really warm, to hear you say that. But I know I don’t have to die.~


~But I’ve thought about it. A lot. Like, a lot a lot, and I’ve realized I’m not living to be happy. I want happiness. Well, more like I want to want happiness. That doesn’t make much sense, but it’s the best way I can say it. I’m not living, working and saving, trying and hoping, for a future. I’m not thinking about what tomorrow might bring, I’m just thinking about getting there. And that in and of itself isn’t such a bad thing, especially for someone who has depression. I was struggling just to wake up, because nothing seemed worth it. I fought with myself every night, and I kept getting up, kept fighting off my demons. It hurt…but I was trying to win. I wanted to eventually win, and feel free, feel something other than empty.~

“You weren’t! You’re Not empty, not at all! You have so much inside of you, and you show it every day! You give people, you give ME, something that nobody else can! So you are NOT empty!”

~You are kind, and not just for saying those things. You aren’t saying them just because you think I need to hear those words, I know that. And I want to believe in you. I want to believe in the you who believes in me. But at the end of the day, no version of me feels anything, aside from this fear of dying. And so I keep living. For me, that’s not what I want. I want to beat the fear, I want to see what’s on the other side. I want to fight back in the only way I feel will matter. I want to die.~

“..what about what I want?”

~I’m selfish, you know this. In the end I’m always going to pick me.~

“I mean nothing to you?”

~You know you are more than nothing…~

“So I’m not the dirt, but the worms in the dirt?! I’m one step up from trash in your eyes! That’s all people are to you, huh?! A blur of faces, and none of us mean a fucking, goddamn thing to you!”


“Say it! Fucking say it! Admit it! Just say that you don’t give a flying fuck! I was never anything to you! And nobody else, and nobody EVER, could ever have been something!”


“You always have something to say, so why are you being quiet!? Why won’t you just fucking say it! It doesn’t matter, you are going to die anyway, so why not just say it?! SAY IT!!!”

~I…I want to die…and I know what that means…regardless of my feelings and reasons, in the end, it’s selfish, the ultimate selfish act… I don’t want to say it all meant nothing…but my actions speak louder than words…~

“…So I’m nothing…and this…us…we were…we are…nothing?”


“You…dying should be easy, seeing as how you are so good at killing others.”

~I didn’t want to…~

“YOU DIDN’T WHAT?! Didn’t want to HURT me?! You let people close to you! Maybe we didn’t know the real you, maybe you just played us, all of us, your entire fucking life, but we CARED! And we still care! And you don’t get to say you didn’t want to hurt anybody when you say you want to die!”

~…you asked me why, and I told you why…and I knew this would happen, which is why I didn’t want to talk about it.~

“O of COURSE you knew! You know everything, right?! Just the all seeing Taylor, peering straight into your soul! What amazing spiritual prowess!”

~…just shut up, for one minute, please. Just…stop. I told you, I knew how this would end, how this conversation would have to end. I’ve spent years thinking this through in my head, and…~

“Why don’t YOU just shut the fuck up, for 5 fucking minutes! It’s my turn to talk, not yours! This is my lecture, and you WILL listen! You always have something to say! Taylor, you ALWAYS have a response! Why is that, huh? Why do you always have to have a come back, have the last word, leave the last impression? You don’t even have an answer for me, you know you are being a selfish prick, and you think just admitting that will make me understand?! I totally fucking get that you are being a grade A asshat! I totally understand that you are aware of your status as a douchebag! But being aware and admitting to it doesn’t mean you understand how I FEEL! Do I feel betrayed? Yes! Do I feel angry? Big ol fucking hell yeah! Do I want to punch you square in the jaw? Give me some tape and brass knuckles and I’d go to town! But do I ever, for a second, want you to leave? Well, what do you think? Now it’s your turn to talk, so go ahead Taylor.”

~..I can’t make excuses, and I won’t try. I hurt you, and treated you and others like garbage. I’m a garbage human for that.~

“That’s not answering my question, Taylor.”

~Look, at some point, even if I wasn’t trying to hurt anybody, I made the choices that were going to hurt them, which is the same as making the decision to hurt them…to hurt you..and I…~



“And since when have I ever made any sort of sense, huh?!”

~STOP! Just…just fucking STOP! I want to die, because I don’t know how to live! And so long as something is keeping me tethered to the here and now I’ll never be able to take that next step! I should be dead! So why am I not dead?! Because it would hurt my friends and family?! Because I’m afraid to die?! I have no illusion of hope! I crushed every ounce of me that would even dare to hope! I’m a patchwork of bullshit human emotions hiding behind an idiots mask! I’m not the person you think I am! I’m not even the person I thought I was! I’m not! I’m just…I’m nothing…and I don’t care anymore…just go ahead and hate me, fuck it. I don’t care anymore.~

“Taylor. You still haven’t answered my question.”

~…you wouldn’t leave me.~

“And do you know why?”

~I’m toxic. You’re supposed to cut toxic people out of your life, we do nothing but take, and…~


~Jesus fucking Christ, no, okay! I don’t know why you stay, or want to stay! I don’t!~

“FINALLY! Something you don’t know! I finally get to teach you something! Listen up, and listen good, because I’m only going to say this once. Well, I’ll actually say this as many times as I need to in order to get it through that thick skull of yours. Are you listening?”

~..just tell me.~

“I won’t walk away from you, and I don’t want to walk away from you, because I love you.”

~I’m not worth loving…~

“Doesn’t matter. My love is there. I don’t love everything about you. Like right now, I’m not loving how sore my throat is from yelling at you. I’m not loving how stupid you are, or how cold it is in the middle of April in your apartment, since you never turn the heat up after March. I’m not loving how tired your eyes are…and how sloped your back is. I don’t like how dry your skin looks, or how you haven’t shaved in what must be months. I don’t love that you aren’t taking care of yourself…and I don’t love how you want to die…but Taylor, I still love you. I’m your friend, and I love you. I love seeing you smile, and I know you want me to smile too. I’m not going to throw you away. You are acting like you are throwing me away, and you are even saying you will…but I don’t buy it. I don’t know if you could actually go through with it Taylor. And honestly..I don’t even know if things will get better…I don’t know if I can help, but God I want to. I want to help you Taylor. I don’t understand, but I want to help anyway.”

~..You’re to good for me…~

“Hey, I agree with you, but I’m here anyway. And I’m not going anywhere.”

~…I didn’t think this talk would end like this.~

“End? O heavens no, this talk is FAR from over.”

~Damnit..should’ve guessed.~

“You still feel like you want to die, right?”


“Let’s go get dinner. Chinese buffet sound good?”

~I’m not sure if dinner is…~

“Look, nobody has EVER killed themselves while enjoying a chinese buffet. At least not at the Golden Dragon. Or at least not in the past year. And you haven’t eaten today. So, we shall feast!”

~You switch gears awfully fast.~

“There are 7 billion humans on Earth. And the Earth is a giant ball of dirt and shit flying through space, stuck in orbit around a giant oven planet, which is only 1 of an infinite number of giant oven planets in a universe we can’t even begin to imagine. Gotta stay flexible.”

~…Fried rice does sound good.~

“You’re driving.”

~Of course, I wouldn’t trust you driving us anywhere.~

“Very true.”

~…Thank you…~

“Don’t thank me. We’re just starting Taylor.”

~…Will you hate me, if you wake up some day and I’m not here?~

“I think what you’re really asking, is whether or not I’d forgive you.”


“And that would depend. But overall, probably not.”


“But that’s not going to be enough of a reason for you not to kill yourself anyway, so it’s not worth me, or you, worrying about. I want you to find a reason to live that isn’t based on guilt. But, if guilt will prolong things, I’m very willing to lean on it, at least for now.”

~That’s pretty cruel.”

“You aren’t the only one who can be ruthless Taylor.”

~You got me there.~

“I’m not leaving. And I’m not going to give you a free pass if you die.”

~…you really are to good for me…~

“Of course. Now, let’s hit the road. I need a full 2 hours to make full use of the buffet.”

~…thank you…~

“O shut up! But you’re welcome.”

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

I’m only wearing these emotions. It’s all painted on passion, washed away during any rainy day.

It eats away at you from the outside in, or the inside out, or whatever fucking way makes sense to you. Honestly, it doesn’t mean a fucking thing, how this world breaks us. In the end, it doesn’t matter how a soul is ripped apart, because nobody has time to spare grief for another person’s pain when they have their own crumbling galaxy to pathetically hold on to.

I’m nothing but the ideas others project onto me, and so I’ve gotten into the habit of letting people down in the smallest of ways so they start to think of me as unreliable. At this point though is it really an act? That’s the question I have to answer now.

~Am I really just pretending to be this terrible, or was I always this way?~

Better yet, does it matter if I am doing this on purpose or not? I’m still fucking up..

So that’s it huh? I have been acting like a fuck up so people have reasons to hate me, but from the very start it didn’t matter what my motives were for acting the way I did…I was making the choice to let others down, so I was/am a piece of filth.

I want to go home.

But home is now the bottom of a bottle of pills that leave my stomach a mess and my mind a mashup of lost thoughts and incomplete dreams.

So what did home used to mean to me? How is it that I’m able to walk up a flight of stairs and put on a smile, tell a few jokes, laugh like I’m okay, then walk back down those stairs and know I’m seconds away from cutting my arm wide open?

I can spend a beautiful Friday afternoon playing catch with a funny friend, making jokes, dancing like an idiot, eating good food and having a good time, and the second I leave to head off on my own, I feel so fake I have to hit my head against my window, and I’m drained to the point where I sleep for 16 hours after taking another bottle of pills to silence my fucking demons..  

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., Poetry, The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

“I let you in, caught myself swallowing your air, your every word stroking the walls of my lungs, giving me a reason to breath.”

I’ve spent entire dreams on you.

Your soft hands return to me,

And I feel safe again.

I know it’s not real,

Just light from the Moon,

A lie that bends my seas.

I fight for every moment,

Breaking clocks and watches,

Turning hands back

While leaving others blinking 8’s.

But you always catch me,

And you insist I must go.

It’s not you, but it hurts,

And I know it’s a dream,

But still.

Not even in my dreams

Can I be the one to walk away.

I just need you,

Whatever you have,

For just one more,

And one more,

Please, I cannot leave,

So stay with me

Until I dream no more…

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., Poetry, The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

I haven’t prayed to God, any God, in years, so don’t mistake my screaming to the sky as blaming God for anything.

You bare your teeth to the pavement,

And a heavy throat rumbles

Like jagged thunder.

It’s not yet time for the fireflies,

So you are left with chewed fingernails,

Coffee kisses and limestone skin.

The Moon is calling you,

Because you are a tide,

Slowly spreading your cerulean

Towards the edge of creation,

Only to be pulled back, back,

Back into the shifting brine.

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

Not every single night, but very, very close..

I find my mind wandering in squares. I would say circles, but my moods are to extreme. Going in a circle is a gradual climb up up up, followed by a slow and steady curve down down down. I hit the top, ride the good ride and enjoy being in the clouds, living a dream. My fall is sudden, drastic, epic. I am left in the filth of my own ignorance and I remain there, no more ups, simply living in a hell of my creation.

My heart is not as strong as I think it’s supposed to be. I am constantly living with the fear that I am unloved, even though I am surrounded by love. I feel like I must be born on the wrong planet, breathing the wrong air, because I constantly feel as if I am waiting on someone to hold my heart and steady its beats until I feel…okay.

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

I often wonder what these words would feel like now, rolling around in my gut, but I’m pretty sure I keep this bottle open so I’ll never have to find out.

The words rise from the walls of my lungs in a rush of warm breath. I can feel them, every syllable, every tiny edge they have etched into this heart. They brush up against my teeth, and my tongue feels awkward in my mouth. I don’t want to stutter, but these sounds have no patience, and my lips are pressured open in a way that ensures an awful start. But my eyes, they have found something worth all of the attempts my life can produce, if only to make sure my conviction, my feelings, are crystal clear. My body finds it’s balance as my heart, that felt sure to run away, is suddenly still, as if to ensure that erratic beating won’t drowned out my words.

It’s only a few seconds of my life.

It’s not guaranteed to be forever.

It’s only 3 words out of millions.

It’s not guaranteed to be reciprocated.

It’s only one complex emotion in a sea of similar sentiments.

It’s not guaranteed to lead to a happier life.

It’s only another person.

It’s not guaranteed this person is the right person.


But still…


Right here, right now,

It’s forever for the seconds before and after.

It’s 3 words that tell my entire story.

It’s one emotion that tells the rest of me who I am, and who I will be.

It’s not just another person. It’s her. It’s only her. It was her yesterday, it will be her tomorrow, and it will damn sure be her, standing in front of me, whom I let these words loose for.

You have me, all of me, my darling.

~I love you.~

Posted in My life - Written by God, produced by 21st Century middle America, and lived by me, myself, and I., Poetry, The Modern Classics, Uncategorized

“My heart feels like it’s swallowed up in Autumn, even as the first storm of spring is right outside my window.”

My body aches for Spring winds,

Their tips curled with cotton embers,

Holding just enough of a spark

To thaw the azure April sky.

I love watching that air jitter,

The crystals of swirling snow

Pacified into sleepy puffs

Of sailing Dandelion clocks.

My once bloated, spiked steps

That would crunch and crack

And crumble under my course

Are renewed as thin, mossy lines,

Graceful and unburdened,

And I am able to dance

In the thunder and lightning

Of blossoming beginnings.

In that wind I feel a hope,

So trying doesn’t seem pointless

And I can find myself,

Maybe even dream again.