Because the sun is coming up, and I still haven’t slept,
They call me crazy. But I’m not, I promise you
-Not in a destructive way. I hope that’s alright.
And I can’t see the technicolor clouds from my window,
But maybe that’s for the best. I’d only be identifying
Images of you floating by in the shape shifting aurora.
False dawn passes, its greyish-blue hue
And fresh scent of rain giving me a second,
Third, fourth (and so on) wind, almost as much as the caffeine.
And I waited all night to talk to you,
But you never came. You said you would, though
It was silly of me to think that you would show;
That’s me: silly. But you like me that way.
And with my words failing on a pendulum locket,
Copping like they’re coping with the treasonist panic,
Backstabbing, hair-grabbing, pinching; biting; mother-spiting.
Falling through with mad devices, a lost prolific parody of
Gasping fools, so desperately grasping to the notion of an ending
That they insist is only the beginning to something greater.
I put a sign up in my window: Prozac and papal blessing- 2 bucks a pop.
When I join something
Or get motivated to do something
You are there
To tell me that I am bad at this
Bad at that
You don't control me, SIR.
No one ever does,
No one ever did.....
Not until I started falling..
Falling into an infinite abyss
Of darkness and loneliness
It was horrible
It still is.
Because i am still falling
and failing to grab to anything.
I keep falling..
Having thoughts to end it for myself
But can I do it??
Whilst in an abyss??
I can't take your calls anymore
Something's just not right with your mind
I can't stand the way you try to control the things you can't help in your life
Because even when the skys are blue
Your still living in a tragedy
And even when its going good
Your still impossible to deal with
I wish you could see yourself
Take a good hard look
I wish you could just be yourself
Your trying to impress the world
But your just another mindless, failing robot
Circling the depths of nonsense and chaos
You're a product of the dogma that comsumes the currupted mind
One that stabs uncertainty with darkness instead of light
But somethings are not exactly what they seem
Sometimes I'm forced to drown in echoed bloody screams
And pretend to be somewhere else in this misery
I'll pretend you were only trying to protect me
As I wish upon another hopeless, dimming shooting star
Concentrate on anything else but this headache you make pound on my brain
If only magic exsisted
And I had it in me
To just fly out of this nightmare and into the sky
Would you leave me alone and stop calling
Because I can't take your phone calls anymore
These lost years of loneliness and social depravity
Have left me with nothing except this written tragedy
I sat and watched as the walls of my life crumbled away
Into this contorted sensation twisting through dismay
These ceaseless rememberance sessions screaming inside
A dead fixed stare on old friends taking cyanide
These bonds have come together in such a swift motion
And, just as fast they've came to their abrubt destruction
Dispersing any tint of mutual belonging from view
Molding a sad landscape of sighs and failing virtue
Watching as the remnants of my relationships loiter
The catacombs of these stockpiled confession letters
If only I could say anything my empathy had to tell me
My skeletal pose might have perched upright in a higher degree
And I would of have grown to a more formidable size
A clear cut aspiration that I never came to realize
Until all that I held grew too big for me to carry
and left me to stumble and sleep at the cemetary
Scratching dead love songs on century old gravestones
Where the forgotten have slept for generations alone
Hoping the crude penmanship might grace a weary heart
Or help a looming ghost feel a taste of love and depart
From the fog filled graveyard parade that it dwells
A final ringing from the synapsis of the greif bells
Sparking the ruin of a memory that doesn't seem real
A fading echo of a brotherhood I wish I could still feel
Detached from a reality that lurks in a decrepit imagery
Reshaping my empty cognition through a fake neuro surgery
I've reached the point where I have no reason to find
A replacement for all these buried pictures astray in my mind
So you're saying you're proud and
Grateful to have so much freedom, opportunity, wealth
Well, I'm not.
Sociocentrism is an ugly, unnatural state
Everything we have takes away from someone else
We try to pretend there's no connection, that the plight of others is cause by their own failing
That we are deserving
Convinced that this is all here for us
We take and take and take
But every terror we inflict on anything "else" is a terror upon the self
We protect our so called civil liberties with wage slavery, chemical abuse, and ecological terrorism
Profit baby, profit über ales
Well congratulations to us
This is nationalism at its finest
No, I'm not fucking proud of it
If you want to take credit, be my guest
Just ask India about policies of profit over regulations, about denim and dye and death
Ask Mexico about farming, their take on the "Fair Trade Act"
Ask the rainforest if it remembers what it was like to have trees
Try to find an Arawak to ask anything
Ask 63 countries what it feels like to have a US military base keeping watch
And what would happen if another country tried to build a base on this soil
Or maybe ask why you never learned shit about any other country
Much less about your own
Back in History class
Survival of the fittest, you say?
A dog eat dog world?
Alright, let's play
This country is overrun by dogs, that's true
But honey, we're not eating any other dogs
We're eating poison and calling it food
While our leaders give Monsanto handjobs under the table
We are "the world's leading nation" and we're dropping like flies
No, not dead
Just into hospital beds and prison cells
Our country is filled with poverty, racism, violence, and terror
Not to mention obesity heart disease depression anxiety and PTSD
We're over-medicated malnourished and spiritually starved
We're pissed off at a whole lot of bullshit
That means nothing in the scheme of anything
Fully engaged in the myth of a two-party system
Even though most of what we see and hear is merely distraction
Thank you, media, all 6 of you big beautiful monoliths
I'm so lucky I have the opportunity to be informed!
We're a nation divided by details
While our leaders run in circles pouting fat fingers at each other
Engrossed in this thing we call "politics"
I'm really glad you're proud
They say ignorance is bliss
But I think it's more like a shiny polyester suit
Holding together a parasite infested mess
Sitting in a recliner after a hard days work of trying to stay afloat on a mountain of debt in a drowning economy
Bottles of medication on the table, GMOs in the fridge
Quietly doing what they're told
Never wondering why
Falling asleep to the glow of the TV whispering fear and terror, us and them, buy and buy and buy
The sweet purr of "freedom"
As I sit here alone,
thoughts of you fill my head.
I go over and over
what you meant to me,
what you still mean to me.
You touched my heart,
like no one before.
Our memories totally surround me,
with every waking moment -
they are the last things I feel
before I retire at night.
Dreams of you weigh
on my mind and wake me.
This is when I miss you the most.
Our lives are on different paths now.
You are taking time
to figure out what you truly want,
even though I already know,
but have no control over it.
My wants rest in your hands.
So, I tread forward,
pretending that all is well,
while inside, I feel like I am dying
without your love -
your love that supported me;
your love that sustained me.
your love that completed me.
Now, I am lost without it.
You have asked
if we can still be friends?
I knew this would be
hard for me to do,
even after all of the hurt.
So, I took some time
to mend my heart,
and I learned to forgive you -
with open arms
I welcomed you back.
Things are going well,
however, I remain so guarded.
I know that I must be this way,
so as not to be misled.
You tell me that you understand.
Yet, truly, do you realize
that I have given you one last chance -
one last chance to remain a part of my life?
This is all I can afford to give you anymore.
I am trying to move forward each day,
by taking small steps,
instead of one giant leap.
Sometimes I feel like
I am making progress;
other times, I feel like I am failing.
Time is all I have during my transition.
One day, all wounds shall be healed.
Time will tell what becomes of us.
One thing I know for certain is,
even though I am moving forward,
you will always feel
my spirit close by -
this same spirit
that will always care for you
and wish you well.
Vicki A Zinn
I wish I was still six
Life was so easy
My only worries were losing crayons
Or running out of games to play
And having recess be cancelled
Because it was raining too hard
I'd even go back to when I was eleven
Because life was pretty easy
And my worries were losing friends
Or running out of people to hang out with
And having parties cancelled
Because who would even come?
It's far from easy
I worry about losing hope
Or running out of excuses of why I'm failing classes
And having plans be cancelled
Because its weird to have long sleeves on in the summer
It's the end of freshman year.
My life still sucks.
My dad hates me.
He hates me.
She hates me.
I've lost many of my friends.
I still don't have a car.
I'm failing history.
I actually cleaned my room.
I've gained weight.
I still want to die.
I still cry about Him.
My legs are fat.
I can't trust anyone.
Fuck the world.
I hate love.
What is love?
It's always my fault.
Why do my parents hate me?
Why aren't I perfect?
I remember all my mistakes.
I'm a mistake.
Aren't we all mistakes?
I hate my life.
I'm not responsible.
I have 25 bucks.
I should go buy a candy bar.
But I will become even more fat.
Will starving myself help?
That's so gay.
I will become famous.
After I get rid of my depression.
Why doesn't He love me anymore?
Because I'm a bitch.
It's so beautiful outside.
So I'll stay locked away in my room.
Not like I have anyone to hang out with.
Why doesn't deodorant work?
I sweat to much.
My family is fucked up.
That includes me.
Is my heart even beating?
Or am I dead?
These are some of many things my depressed mind thinks.
Sickly sweet and
to be in love with
when you know you
The taste of your lips
sugary and sweetened
taste of near-death
The taste of my heart
and failing against
pressing harder against
you and pulling you
I can taste it now
the flavour of my
coming death and
the sting of falling
in love with
I can never have
and it was nothing
more than a candied
dream, and it can never
But you tasted so alluring
and the feel of
your hands in my hair
sends shivers down
my fragile bones
and I miss that night
there is the world so much i think i have felt it
have felt by it
and by it felt
so much it
who in droves presses ugly Spring against me
who in heards comes dying and immortal
who in sleeping flowers laughs most
by sting invisible
impulses each rotund death
of lungs upon heaps of dying
to go out and wear more gladly it
it girls laughing
it boys sweating to be first
it arcuate of hips
it thundering of industry
it of millions tinly each
each more than last
each next than other
each the other than the next
i think and i have seen by it
and have i?
way north over the barn where goes the winter
when in neatish crimson hulking pricks comes
first small coming
then steadily gargantuan
in deep veins of failing gold
only to brittle
only to fold and tousle
only to rubble and quake
and i have thought
and i have read
and i have felt so proud to get at the meanings of poems
) but ever have i known it?
i have not been my feet to push of it a million splendors
i have not been my throat to scream so loud my body shook
i have not been amongst its people
i have not tasted
i have not been by the skinny bank of a winding stream in the middle of Summer when the cool water tickles across the span of each toe the wholeness of being
i have not kissed so long to love
i have not breathed so long to speak
what then can i say?
but do i say it?
i say it by hands between quick thighs
uncurling hurting bruises of hot sharpness
i say it in the hunched play of a girl's wetness
i say it in the calm stroke of a withered dog's scalp
i say in quiet moments as in loud moments
i speak(and i always speak)
and i think i have the world so much by it felt as to know it
and i think i do not know it
and i think it is not so much
and i think i have not felt it