When the feelings run and hide
and when there is nothing left inside.
I cannot even begin to disguise
the fact that I have cemetery eyes.
An empty shell, a carcass, a husk,
autonomic movement from dawn to dusk.
I will not allow my emotions to rise
and bring back life to my cemetery eyes.
There are words I just cannot repeat,
questions and probing, an enforced retreat.
The shutters fall, there is no compromise,
nobody sees behind my cemetery eyes.
© Pagan Paul (2016)
I used to try to extract as much pleasure as I could out of life
Like extracting juice from a lemon,
But I've learned to step back a little bit.
Sometimes, just watching the World go by
Is more enjoyable than trying to hard to benefit from It.
The Disconnected Man
Tends to notice the Stunner.....
The Woman whose beauty
Exceeds that of all others
In a particular locale.
If I was engaged in Conversation with someone,
I would not feel so tempted
To perceive a woman as a goddess,
When I'm all by myself,
The Woman with exceptional looks
Helps me to stay focussed
And feel less alone.
i became apathetic at the age of 8
when I found out my best friend was a liar.
i lost faith in people at such a young age.
from then on i was detached; i cared about very little.
i still don't to this day.
i'll get excited about something and after just a short while i lose interest.
there's a few things i care about but give it a minute and that will fade away.
when it comes down to it,
i don't care about the things i have or don't have.
i don't care what i do with my life
i don't care what happens to me.
i feel nothing inside.
they say apathy is a precursor to a full-blown deep depression.
that must mean i've been on the cusp my whole life.
apathy is insidious.
it's eaten away at me for years.
it's gotten worse since i lost everyone i ever cared about.
i need a reason to care again
before all hope is lost.
before i die of heart disease at 65
just like my grandmother did.
as I stood by the river
in the cool darkness of spring
I could feel within it's stillness
a beautiful movement and rhythm one with all life
it carries to the ocean a divine flow of energy
it holds the sky on its surface
and the earth on it's bed
in this moment I realize
the river is life
and I am here to flow
with the natural current
to move and allow change
to rise and fall with the tide of the Moon
to reflect the sky and stars
and to hold the earth within my core
Here and now I am as the River
moving swiftly with grace into oneness.
I’m walking away from vulnerability and closing my heart off, I’m better off using my heart less.
I was close to the cliff like Clair Huxtable but a part of me felt like jumping off.
I probably look like a fool right now, expressing all my feelings in full right now.
I’m hurting and I know that I’m not perfect; the weight of all these words has gradually become a burden.
You are the words I tried to say when my mouth was shut and my larynx was flooded with silence.
Heartbreak comes in the morning when the sun is shining, when the wind is blowing and my coffee has gone cold.
Forever is a myth and the future is uncertain; the weight of all these words has gradually become a burden.
Somewhere in my heart there’s a void, a void that I hopelessly walk around trying to avoid.
You made letting go seem so easy, detachment was always something you were good at.
I wish that you receive everything that I couldn’t give to you, there’s so much of myself that I could sacrifice.
I hope that it was all worth it – you abandoning the home you’ve made in me.
A friend once told me, “Don’t make homes out of people because they always leave and take everything you own with them.
Or better yet, they stay and ruin everything you’ve worked so hard to build.”
what does peace mean to you?
are you not
for you to bear the storm
to spare some tears
the calm is coming
tonight or in ten years
an unrivaled friend
Why am I me? I sometimes ask myself.
Why am I not somebody else?
I could have been anyone, anywhere.
So why am I me, why am I here?
I am who I am, but why?
Will I be someone else after I die?
Why do I look the way I do?
Why am I me and not you?
I am me, but why am I this way?
How come I am alive today?
From all the people I could be
Why am I exactly me?
She stares at me,
Her eyes seem to search mine.
Her hands stretch towards the division,
Towards that finely marked glass line.
She seems to whisper something,
Sayings too faint to hear.
Yet her lips move with such passion,
As though her utterances are very dear.
I take a step back & stare,
At the being before my eyes.
Torn robes & mangled hair,
And scarred hands to my surprise.
I try to draw close,
Yet I cannot seem to reach.
It's as though a barrier lies between us,
One that I cannot breach.
I looked with more intent,
But the less I saw instead.
Yet in her eyes I could discern,
Something that filled me with dread.
Then suddenly it hit me
From out of nowhere
And like an unraveled mystery
All became clear.
For in my curiosity
And my desire for close inspection
I had failed to see
I was staring at my own reflection