Gratitude Journaling #

lIfE’s A sTaGe, or some shit they said
but look at you
a fucking
puppet
with cut strings
dancing like a drunk bird trying to impress the wind
no one told you to perform
no one asked
yet there you go
spinning like a top
on a cracked table no one even sits at anymore

do you hear it??
the sound of silence clapping??
no
of course not
because mannequins
don’t move
and the dead don’t applaud
you’ve got an audience of cardboard souls
and even they’re bored of your pathetic tricks
not hate
not love
just—nothing
and gods
doesn’t that sting more?

you think effort’s a currency
like you’ll be paid in meaning or warmth
but the universe doesn’t oWe you
a single “well done” or even a “fuck you.”
it doesn’t owe you shit
you’re the kid showing off cartwheels
to a portrait of their dead dad
cute, if it weren’t so goddamn sad

but hey cmon
don’t stop now
what’s one more tumble into insignificance?
you’re the clown of your own funeral
juggling voids, tripping over the infinite
and maybe you’ll laugh when you hit the dirt
because even that feels better than apathy
better than knowing
the world was never watching you at all

you’re not cursed
you’re not special
you’re just noise in the static
a speck in the endless gray
so keep dancing
bitch
the spotlight isn’t even on you