You never know do you?
Don't you get that feeling?
Where you think you're walking
Working all day and all night
Everyday with no motivation at all
Unhappiness, Awkwardness and Stressfulness
But never moving forward
While the others are already at the end of the finish line
You're still at the start of the line
Still alive but I'm barely breathing
Next thing I know I'm falling to pieces
What am I going to do when I'm all
choked up and you're okay
When the best part of me was always you
I'm falling to pieces
Brokenhearted, Loneliness, Heartbreak
I'm gonna get a heart attack soon
And going to die slowly
I let all of this happen
I let myself cause my heart so much misery
I will not break myself
I've learnt the hard way
to never let it get that far
because of you
i find it hard to trust not only me,
but everyone around me
I am afraid
I lose my ways
I cannot cry
Because I know that's weakness
I'm forced to fake a smile everyday of my life
my heart can't possibly break
I learn to play on the safe side so I don't get hurt
But, I'll move on, stay strong and move forward
I don't need those silly boys
I don't need a man
I can live by myself and
I don't need any friends
Forget about them
They're not worth my time at all
I can do it
I am strong
I should , I should just move on
Get on back with my life.
What a beautiful thing
Back when Papa was a super hero
Mama tucked you into bed every night
And getting high, was something you did with a swing
Everything was exciting and new
Imaginations ran wild
That run down shack in the woods?
A castle, perfect for games of war
Adolescence was miserable
Such a horrible time
Papa wasn't there; the bar was his domain
Mama smoked to much and cried herself to sleep every night
And pills were popped every night, just to survive
It was so hard to find a smile
Everything seemed empty and fake
And that shack in the woods?
Used now only for the least personal kind of date
High school's end was a blessing
Though its a surprise you made it out alive
Papa was gone, he never even called
And mama was drunk, she couldn't handle it all
Living such a burden, so hard for you to do
Life seemingly hopeless, no joy around for you
So you went back to that shack in the woods, for the very last time
And left this world behind you, one pill at a time
I'm right here
Ready to forget
Ready to concede
Ready to believe
That all you say is true
I mean nothing to you
I'm right here
But all you see is dust
As if I've given up on trust
And run away without a word
If only you heard
What God told me
So very different from what you speak
And strong resolve
I can no longer fake it
My hand is right here
All you have to do is take it
Is it possible that the emptiness is alright
that the darkness that we fear the most
holds the most light
that the days we count hold no weight
that the relationships we share are fake
that the love we give is endless
that the smiles we show are a reflex of conditioning
that the lives we lead are reflecting nothing
that what we live for is meaningless
that what we seek may be worth nothing in the end
that who we depend on the most are as brittle as castles made of sand
what is there to expect
we make it what we make it
we create what we create
we do what we do
with or without others
we carry on
you got to
you got to fill the gaps with some kind of meaning
you got to drown the grieving
you got to carry on
when things change
it is just a reflection of how uncertain everything is
we cannot predict the future
just hope for the best
the beer in front of her is just about empty and she watches the foam slowly sludge down the inside of the glass with thinly veiled disgust...she manages a fake smile as someone nearby is telling a group of giddy faces another embarrassing story about her...she crushes out her cigarette so clumsily a spark of tobacco coal leaps out and lands on the floor...voices are traveling around the room and screwing up the lighting, sweeping the ceiling and splashing through the windows out into the city night...fairly drunk she steps outside and tries to remember what had she been thinking a moment before clacking down the stairwell in her most comfortable high heels...the early summer evening air is cool in the back of her throat and the breeze pulls the newly dark lime tree leaves spreading that indescribable scent of mature summer green down the empty street...somewhere down the block a car alarm finishes it's cadence leaving the lone barks of a dog...the feeling she had about not deciding what to leave behind she'd lost somewhere at the beginning of this party...she'd find herself crying about this new regret long before she knew why...another addition to the myriad topics for insomnia that she'd write on the bedroom wall with her eyes...recalling the painful parts of the past with so much more depth perception than the good...like her happiness was an instant suffocated in years of desperation and insanity...she had to convince herself that she was happy with him...that she could be again...that she would stop wishing for him to disappear and leave her blameless for not loving him back...as it would turn out the wreckage was so minimal and she was the one forced to disappear...it took her two hours to pack and she was gone...
Teens are drinking,
Kids are swearing.
Cities are bombed,
Skin is cut.
Meals get skipped,
Guns get shot.
Hearts get broke,
Tears get shed.
Pills get popped,
Knives get used.
Lives fade away,
Friends get lost,
Virginity is stolen.
Eyes get lined,
Cheeks get blushed.
Hair gets curled,
Lips get lush.
Reality turns to fake,
Dreams turn to reality.
We roll our joy,
And light it quickly.
Well done, society.
America, the beautiful
Home of the brave
Or so it used to be
Before it became
Home of the selfish and lazy
From sea to shining sea
Once a cape of good hope
Until the tidal patterns shifted
And eroded the shores
Of her dignity
Born American, patriot by choice
Is how the saying goes
But what's a patriot really
If patriotism is measured
By the size of one's collection of faded bumper stickers
(As if bumper stickers would revive us)
Land of the pilgrim's pride
But on this trajectory
We'll soon be
Land of the pilgrim's regret
From every mountainside, let ignorance ring
I cringe to think of what we're reduced to
A hollow shell
Made of fashion and fake money
Nothing keeping us truly alive
Each generation weaker than the one before
Please, no more.
Someone speak for all that's good
Do what our leaders never could
My country, 'tis of thee I plead,
Awaken, open your eyes, and see.
Day three of my A Poem A Day project. Written 5/16/2013.
I am sometimes sad because
Surely churches should be
Shelters for the homeless?
Or because pockets jingle
And we are deaf to the jolly clatter
Whilst others hear the call of god.
Or because people with
Paper cuts leak bitterness
And not human empathy
And we leak and leak and
No one cleans up after us,
Until jokers mutter 'revolution'
And the day dreams of a burning city
Are believable when the cries for
Are from muted peripheral spectres
In our Utopia.
Mostly I am sad because my words
Are void by lacking action but
My mind refuses to stop spilling out poetic waste.
Today you gave me a fake flower and
Most likely a lie but the flower is on my wall
Shiny yellow thing in foil bright like my eyes, you said.
I hope our exchange gave you hope.
(If I were writing this to anyone else, especially and most probably a woman,
it would go something like this:
I would like to unfold you one layer at a time;
I will peel off clothing
until I hit bottom
until there is nothing between
my hand and your drumming heart
except trembling skin.
But writing you right now is different; those soft words would feel forced, fake, hollow and pretty and attractive and wrong. I can’t tell you why but I know my heart has a song of its own
for you and if I get it wrong you know you can laugh at it.)
Do you know how overpowering you can be?
Do you know what it is to draw a breath,
one tiny insignificant breath,
and feel my entire body throb to
To run my fingertips across your skin
(not necessarily gently)
to press my hands into your skin until the impress -
like a flower pressed in a book -
I don’t want to peel your clothes away from you,
slow and confident and assured, (not right now).
There isn’t always confidence in want, is there?
I’d rather tear them away from you,
quest for your beating heart and the shape of
your hip and the long line of your spine attempt,
with my lips on yours,
to take your breath and make it ours.
My hands are hungry;
they feel empty, grasping, needful.
My lips are wet.
I love you.
(I ask what I am saying and I wonder if this is weak: I want your body against mine.)
Boom boom boom
I’m in the firing range
But how I love this doom!
She’s saying I’m blind
I’m deaf and mute
Her tantrums I don’t mind
I know her heart is cute!
Her words I don’t take
Pretty sure on my part
Her anger is a fake
She loves me from her heart.
She curse me day and night
Says can’t stand my sight
But I can vouch it true
Without me she can’t do.
Whatever she says
She isn’t parting ways
I know it she can’t disguise
Love for me in her eyes.