5 years of faded eternity,
a secure mirage of schedules and deadlines--
blurring into one irrepeatable experience,
one pasty mirage that materialized a diploma.
Years staring back, I can see
from this same porch I remember, just home from college #2, staring through eyes unteared hearing a proclaimation of Failure.
"Did you use drugs?" father asked. "LSD? Grass?"
The lie split in half through a comedown from a hazy green laziness. A directionless fog. Explain failure? Why, I saw nothing worth fixing.
What future? What future? Today.
I saw no future within a year, when the dreaded dropout stigma stung all will. My refuse decayed, hardened rough, and shaped in fervent heat underground.
Failure is my forming pressure--
to disbelieve is naive:
Failure exists to transform;
its driving heat must purge
Reflecting luster on unearthed
Materials. Polished from
Adversity, a woman or man
may realize potential more rare.
I chased my tail back
to a place I was fool enough
to leave--I received a degree
conceived from restlessness,
grown from focus,
a claiming of self
I now know exists.
I cannot hide from the sleep that
These eyes need to rest
Yet write I must as my life hope
Fades into the dusk of dawn
They are after me
My soul is a wanted man
They know where I am
Let their master plan unfurl
As united they be
United to rule our world
In old of days life was better
Time cared not for my rest
This terror had not begun
So my rest fell to
Leaving no ruin to this world
Ripping red oozes from eyes
No longer focused
They wait behind the door
Whispering ,shouting ,wanting
In breath I fail
The time to leave is now
My turn to fight is lost
The wall is written
Blood rushes to your head
And your face is turning red
And every word that you said
Has a double meaning
But no one can see it
And they sit in the seats
As you stand on the stage
Just performing a play
But it's real everyday
and they just applaud
Say, "you act so damn well for your age"
And you reply “yeah I know”
But you're spitting with rage.
You stick to the script
And say thanks for coming out
And you cry on the inside
But don't make a sound
Because whenever you do
Sees it as a show
You're trying to rehearse
And in each verse
Cries the pain
That you don't deserve,
But you land face first
At the bottom of the pit
And you cry, and you cry
Like the other kids
When they saw you on stage
And they watched you perform
While you cried
While you screamed
You wish you'd never been born.
Only you know
That after the show
Was when the acting began
And when you really performed.
It’s rare to find love in a place like this,
Devoid of true feeling, a heart lay near.
Tattered & scarred it is not hard to miss,
Under the wounds though hid a creature; fear.
“Will someone ever find love within me?”
“Am I a lost cause? Not worthy enough?”
Is it possible that no one can see,
Or have the nerve to even call my bluff?
I crave what is scarce in this hopeless place,
Someone that I alone can call my own,
One who will make this dead heart pound and race.
I know though my passion will stay unknown.
So here within this empty void I stay,
Praying that Charming will take me away.
I never want to hurt,
yet it seems there is a
two edged choice.
I either seem to hurt or
And to be hurt is pure
slow death with
But somehow hurting
because I know what it's like.
I don't want to give up on
but I don't know if I can
play this 'game'
When all that prospers
are my tears.
Too scared to love, yet terrified
I feel done.
The angry words you spit at me
Don't mean anything, I know
So stop saying them.
Wind around me instead.
You begin to think yourself only worth one night
twenty dollars in your hand that you hold so tight;
it's all evidence of your vagrant life
and you don't want yourself
And you could hear your heart as you looked right through
each new woman that you saw or did she see you?
no surprise that you always sigh at truth
and you don't like yourself
You won't say a thing 'bout the last two years
you can't tell it through the shroud of your unshed tears
you've given in to the sway of fear
and you don't understand
you don't understand.
so what if that's what you think?
this is what I know:
that I am better than you will ever be
and that I am strong enough to banish my demons
(everything that is rooting against me
as I persevere on through this horrid world)
I know that I will defeat you
The suffocating love of a hundred people
They want you, what’s best for you
What’s best for you, what is best for you?
Rejecting them means rejecting love,
but you are in short supply of you
As demand increases, so does price
the price of you
the price is you.
Sanity sets in, escape’s let out
every night let it out,
beats staying in
Some are in short supply of love
The suffocating love of a hundred people let you know
Across the room, across the country
a hundred people can’t help
shedding ‘bout one sixty does
only, you have to shed it
anchors only work when attached
it pulls your judgment, mind from its foundation
wants to make your choices
wants to make your coffee
you start to save you,
in a container with a seal
the shiny latch makes a pop noise
You can see through the otherside
No one can get in,
Not with the pop noise
Its where you keep you
in the house, Close the door
let it out in
thoughts and blood
watch it heal, know you’re better
lets you know,
you are better, you are better
You are Better,
better isn’t with help, it doesn’t come with age
it’s a choice you make
the suffocating love of a hundred people
they pile on blankets, keeps you warm
but at a hundred blankets deep you aren’t moving
Don’t think about me, don’t think about him
Just move and keep moving,
roots and anchors
Learn which is which
Remember which is which
Act on which is which
you grow roots, anchors are placed upon you
usually around the neck region.
Box up all the memories, store them if you like
But don’t stay attached, burn if necessary
Anchors only work if they’re attached
You can’t ‘be ready’ for something that’s already happened
It’s the past in those boxes,
the fond death of past nothings,
Life only exists in the future,
Not to be too dramatic but we’re dying, right now
in the present
we breath out life out as we speak
Only the future has life, stored as potential
just take the steps
cut out the cancer
if you want to be ready for something, be ready for what’s next
It’s the third of April and I was there
Sitting still, wondering
Observing the lifeless environment that surrounds me
And I simply couldn’t help but think
How did it all come to this
It was exactly a year ago, during April, too
A blossoming sense of the beginning of new life
Little did I know
There was something even more beautiful than the flowers and trees
Something more serene than the feeling of crisp air and bright yellow sunlight
Little did I know that such a lively season
Was above, beyond, and even better than the liveliest things combined
Within three months after, it was mid July
And by then things only got more astounding
“Breath taking”, even
I’ve come to known this cheerful atmosphere’s smiles
Laughs, and confidence, and everything that makes it the amazing familiarity within me
And it was charming and it was lovable
Just like the warm breeze and chilly nights
What a wonderful thing to learn true happiness from the happiest surrounding itself
At this point all it ever was, was everything but sorrowful
Oh and November rolled around
And as leaves started to hit the bottom
Trees started to give up, and flowers started to disappear
So did it
So did it
This vicinity, of all the happiest vibes
The sweet turned to bitter
Just as the blossoms turned to gloom
It fell into a million little pieces
And all they could do was shatter it even more
And all they could blame was itself
All they could judge was nothing but the setting
And the thing that was once like sunshine
Turned into ice cold
Who would’ve guessed
That the happy atmosphere they once knew
Was this dark hole sucking itself into it
And who would’ve guessed
That the strongest, too, break
It was February and
It was the most similar thing to an incomplete thought of train
It was February
And everything was completely gone
The fragrance of what were once the roses
The scenery of what were once the moving lakes
The warmth of all the components of happiness
They were gone too
Too soon, and too fast
And now it’s the fourth of April
I’m still here I’m still rationalizing
I’m still thinking over
Why am I the only one left
Is it really fair to leave me the same
Just when everything else had changed