VII - midnight ennui

written by delikately

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gaslight myself

by delikately

another self-deprecating song here we go i write the same lines again and again pretending i’m okay really i’m just catching up with who i said i was i’ve lied so well yeah it almost sounds true i know what you want me to say i just know you’re not listening. do i care? i don’t know is this who i am? that’s the question. but i’ll play along because that’s what i do best just a little deeper in my own head gaslight myself? yeah i’ve got that part down i’ll call my own bluff before anyone else gets the chance. they’ll ask me how i’m doing and i’d just have to smile until it’s so smooth i can’t feel my face it’s like i’ve worn this mask so many times not sure where i end where it begins i'm not who i say i am but i’ve got the best fucking act in town. do i care? i don’t know is this who i am? you tell me. but i’ll play along because that’s what i do best just a little deeper in my own head gaslight myself? yeah i’ve got that part down i’ll call my own bluff before anyone else gets the chance hmm is it crazy to admit? i think about myself more than anyone like yeah i love thinking everything’s about me i’ve gaslit myself into believing it’s just part of the act that none of this self-obsession is real yeah i almost believe it and it’s too damn good to let go so let me keep lying if it makes me feel better just a little deeper in my own head gaslight myself? yeah i’ve got that part down i’ll call my own bluff before anyone else gets the chance but who’s gonna call me out?

midnight ennui

by delikately

it’s another evening, but it feels like the same one i’ve had for weeks i could go out, you know but i wouldn’t know who to call or where to go so i make another coffee and watch the steam disappear read some article about how to love your life but it never said how long that takes so i’ll just sit here until i know if it’s working or not. i’m not pretending everything’s fine but i’m not falling apart, either i’m just... existing. less and less of everything more and more of nothing i can almost feel the space between me and the world it’s midnight ennui still here. not quite alive but not dead enough to quit there’s a voice that says “make today count,” but i let my comfort rock me back to sleep again. i keep getting notifications but i don’t open them haven’t replied in weeks i think they stopped expecting it i could make coffee, or just stare at the wall either way, it feels the same. i’m not unhappy but i’m not happy either i’m just floating through the days less and less of everything more and more of nothing i can almost feel the space between me and the world. it’s midnight ennui still here. not quite alive but not dead enough to quit there’s a voice that says “make today count,” but i let my comfort rock me back to sleep again. i tried to want things, once but it’s easier not to i could ask for more more time, more connection but then i’d have to carry it and i’m not sure i want that so i’ll stay in this distance it’s quiet here and i overthink— less and less of everything more and more of nothing i can almost feel the space between me and the world. it’s midnight ennui nothing’s happening and maybe that’s the point i’ll stay in this room pretending i’m waiting for change but nothing ever does.

i wonder

by delikately

he talks about some philosopher like he’s a close friend i’m nodding along, pretending i know what he’s saying i caught him glancing at me curious, or wondering how someone like me ended up here it’s the little things the way his voice lowers when he says my name i don’t know if i’m imagining it but sometimes it feels like he’s talking just to me it’s probably nothing every time he looks, he looks away too soon like he’s hiding something i smile like a lunatic, caught a secret he didn’t mean to tell i wonder when he looks away, does he mean to? when he lingers just a moment too long is he waiting for me to say something or am i reading too much? but honestly, i don’t mind i don’t mind at all he wears those oxford shirts like he thought about how they look but not too much i steal glances at his hands when he pushes up his glasses in the middle of the lecture and when his eyes met mine no sparks flew, time didn’t slow down at least that’s how it felt but i can’t shake the feeling mm, that he’s seeing me a little more than the others it’s probably nothing every time he looks, he looks away too soon like he’s hiding something i smile like a lunatic, caught a secret he didn’t mean to tell i wonder when he looks away, does he mean to? when he lingers just a moment too long is he waiting for me to say something or am i reading too much? but honestly, i don’t mind i don’t mind at all i’m not asking for more just one more glance one more time he looks, and i catch him looking back maybe then i’ll know it’s real yeah, i’m probably delusional “guess i’ll try again later—” there’s no more to it but i swear he lingers just a second too long is it my desk in the way? or is he really looking at me? is this a crush? or am i filling in blanks with a story i wish were real? either way, it feels nice— even if i’m just imagining it all.

trash takes itself out

by delikately

i don’t even know when i stopped caring probably when i started skipping meals it’s easier to starve a little than admit i’m not handling things used to think i was doing okay until i opened the fridge expired milk old takeout another bag of 'i’ll get to it later' i’m supposed to be an adult, right? so why does it look like this the trash takes itself out but i’m the one in the bin hmm yeah i keep saying i’ll get my shit together but i’m just stacking the crap higher trash takes itself out but i’m the one who’s left standing trash takes itself out but it’s me yeah it’s always been me i’d clean up but i don’t know where to start too many bottles too many unfinished projects with my name on them somehow i ended up here again trash day and i’m late again barefoot on the curb déjà vu in a bathrobe i’m supposed to be an adult, right? so here i am waiting for the trash to do its job hmm yeah i keep saying i’ll get my shit together but i’m just stacking the crap higher trash takes itself out but i’m the one who’s left standing trash takes itself out but it’s me always has been i should just let it stack let the weight press in until i fold i’m done faking control the mess always finds a way out but i’m the one who makes it the trash takes itself out but it’s me i’m the one in the bin i’m the one getting stuck in it i keep pretending it’s not my fault but yeah it’s me.

grocery store anxiety

by delikately

i’ve looked for my list but it’s buried under clothes i never folded i used to care about doing things right now i’m curious what happens if i take a left turn i never know what i’m supposed to buy but i always feel like i should the yogurt’s still in my hand should i keep it or let it go i don’t know but i’ll think about it for another minute i’m just here to get groceries but it feels like a test i’m not ready for why are there so many options i didn’t want to think this hard about food but here i am stuck in an aisle pretending i’m doing something when i’m really just standing idle everyone's got their heads down like we’ve all agreed not to connect i’m just here pushing this cart looking for something remarkable oh if i’m lucky maybe it’ll make today feel a little less... off the yogurt’s still in my hand should i keep it or put it back i’ll stare at it a little longer and ponder the reason for my coming here i’m just here to get groceries but it feels like a test i’m not ready for why are there so many options here i didn’t want to think this hard about food but here i am standing in line pretending i’m doing something when i’m really just standing idle i could have a thought about this but i’m too busy judging the person behind me making their “quick” decision too damn slowly i’m staring at my cart should i put it back is it too late to change my mind i’m just here to get groceries but it feels like a test i’m not ready for why are there so many options here i didn’t want to think this hard about food i’m just here to pick something up but it’s all too much i’ll put the yogurt back and walk away leaving my cart behind knowing the world’s still moving while i leave like i’ve missed something

space between us

by delikately

you didn’t ask if i was okay and i didn’t ask you either we’re just here not talking not not talking i keep looking at you waiting for a reason some shift in the air just so i can tell myself this isn’t nothing you’re doing the same thing i know you are mm — hmm… it’s fine this weird in-between i don’t need to hold your hand but i wouldn’t mind if you did you know… just a little less distance not so much that it scares you not so little i stop wondering mm — hmm… we’re close enough to pretend nothing’s happening while everything is your hand’s close enough to mine but neither of us moves i’m not sure if we’re doing this 'cause we’re bored or it’s just what people do before they admit they’re lonely i keep looking at you still waiting on a reason are we just killing time? or is this how something begins? mm — hmm… it’s fine this weird in-between i don’t need to hold your hand but i wouldn’t mind if you did ...you know? i don’t think you do i mean — it wouldn't hurt… just a little less distance mm — hmm… we’re close enough to pretend nothing’s happening just nose-to-nose with the thing we keep refusing to look at i think i’d just have to be okay with the fact we’ll never talk about it that this is just how it goes lowkey, platonic, not something you tell your grandkids or “how it all started” but right now it’s enough to say nothing 'cause naming it might ruin the moment mm — hmm… i’m content with this weird in-between it’s a quiet kind of close wherein there are no promises no lies you know… just two people who don’t need anything except the space we take up a space between us that feels just right… mm — hmm… but i wouldn’t mind if you— you know…

one more round

by delikately

there’s a man at the convenience store, he’s buying his third bottle of gin today tells me, “i’m just living my best life” but the red flush and glassy eyes say something else the world’s full of people who are tired of pretending they’ve got it together we’re all running in circles, but no one’s keeping track of the laps anymore you can try and make it look easy, but you can’t fake this feeling one more round that’s what we keep saying like the answers swimming at the bottom of the shot glass i don’t think we’d know it even if we found it "ooh…pass it around…" we’ll keep spinning till it’s done but there’s no finish line, so we’ll pretend that we’ve somehow won one more one more round the tv’s on, but no one’s watching the news just white noise in the background everyone has opinions, but no one has a plan we say we’re tired, but never define what that means we chase the next quick fix, the next high only to crash when the hangover hits each day, we lie to ourselves, don a mask, and play along because what choice do we have you can try and make it look easy, but you can’t fake this feeling one more round that’s what we keep saying like the answers swimming at the bottom of the shot glass i don’t think we’d know it even if we found it "ooh…pass it around…" we’ll keep spinning till it’s done but there’s no finish line, so we’ll pretend that we’ve somehow won one more one more so we keep buying time with promises telling ourselves tomorrow will be different but tomorrow becomes another yesterday, and we’re stuck in the same ‘ol routine maybe we’ve grown fond of drowning just deep enough to breathe just enough to keep everything afloat just enough to keep the wheels spinning one more round that’s what we keep saying like the answers swimming at the bottom of the shot glass i don’t think we’d know it even if we found it "ooh…pass it around…" we’ll keep spinning till it’s done yeah everyone’s asking for one more round but no one’s counting how many times we’ve already been here maybe this time we’ll get it right one more one more round.

eldest

by delikately

burnout

by delikately

people ask what i’m working on i say, "something" they don’t press they’ve got better things to do i laugh at the irony me still trying i’m done with all of it now i’ll take whatever comes but i’m done chasing meaning. i’m done pretending done analyzing my every move. i’m tired of thinking about everything tired of asking why it always slips through maybe i was never meant to hold it tired of waiting for a sign for the light to say go this is the last time i beg it to mean something. i told myself i’d rest but sleep feels like something i have to earn the thing i loved turned to labor i showed up every day like a job that doesn’t pay and still felt guilty for not doing more i used to be proud of it now i just scroll right past it. i’m done pretending done watching myself from across the room. i’m tired of thinking about everything tired of asking why it always slips through maybe i was never meant to hold it tired of waiting for a sign for the light to say go this is the last time i beg it to mean something. stop with the questions i’m not here to figure out how to live i’m just here to feel something even if it’s nothing at all. i’m tired of pretending this should mean something tired of asking why i can’t get it right wondering why i’m never quite enough it’s probably not supposed to work i’m done narrating every little thing this is the last time i pick it all apart. yeah i’m done don’t ask me how i got here i’m too tired.