I'm always happy
Let nothing bother me
Cause I'm warm, loving and embracing
like your good old nearby tree.
I want to know more than your middle name and your favorite breakfast cereal or your favorite color I want to know who you are and what made you that way.
Do you ever consider suicide? Why or why not? Have you ever attempted suicide? Do you know what it's like to be shaking and take a gun to your head almost pull the trigger? Have you experienced the sick feeling after you swallow the fifty second pill? Whats your favorite song what's your favorite lyric from it does it represent who you are? Do you know who you are? Will you show me? If you don't can I help you find it?
Do you want to know where you came from? Do you believe in god? Where do you want to travel do you care about others? Or are you content where you are why don't you like change? Has a loved one passed on and who was it did you scream when you found out? Have you ever cried so hard you couldn't breathe why tell me who did this to you? What do you feel late at night are you scared of the dark?
Do you know what it's like to take a cold blade to your skin? Do you like the look of blood is your bedspread stained red? Have you been molested have you been raped? Did you go to therapy for it? Can you tell me the reason you shake? Would you ever be able to take a life? Would you be able to take your life? What drugs have you done what'd you see while you were on them do you love to be high? Do you love it too much can you ignore the craving at all?
Do you love yourself do you even like yourself? Do you know who you are? Do you know who you are? Do you know who I am? Can you help me find out?
"The problem is..."
"that it is'nt us who see people differently from you,
but you see things different from us. We are not the problem you are.
You see the basest humans when we paint majestic creatures,
we tell stories of superheroes with no faults,
we expect our boyfriends to mirror night skies in their comfort,
and speak like Kerouac. Kiss our scars like white girl tumblr pictures."
"People like you," he says;
"...Dont ever kill yourselves. You're used to the disappointment. Your used to kissing your boyfriends sweaty upper lips and smelling...just that. You clean up the puke on bathroom floors without complaining because you know what people look like from the inside. That's why your art will never be good. Thats why today in class when i asked you to paint a human body cut open, you drew a colorless man with his organs splaying out of him, and goddamn" he laughs..
"I have to fold petals into my boyfriends armpits just to stand the sight of him
our fucking is'nt fucking,
its lovemaking. Supposedly.
When I tell this story later,
I'll leave out the spit and saliva and how the human body
aint that pretty, especially gay sex. Even 6 ft 3 chiseled muscle of it, ill write metaphors about his eyes and similes to his fists,
you will tell us about the human-pess of his breath and how
it annoyingly kept you up at night,
you will speak of storms but not of the ones in his eyes.
The ones in your belly
when he farts during sex and you will
describe every putrid detail, like the fact that waking up in the morning aint so pretty,
morning breath is something we dreamers leave out in movies. And, it must be exhausting
living here seeing things how they really are, but atleast when you expect disappointment, theres room for surprise.
People like me expect the good and our disappointed when its pissed on."
Like a thief in the night the days fly by in a soft blur of nothingness.
Each day blends into the other until they form a pool of time
Unmarked by purpose, fulfillment or worthiness.
Like a slap in the face, reality presses hard into the soft cocoon that envelops me.
I'm forced to sit up straighter, focus a little more strongly, dig a little deeper.
Now the challenge is here; the time to slap on a mask of happiness and hope,
While busy hands and mind prepare to immerse me into someone's else's normalcy.
The normalcy of which my dreams are made of.
A jet will whisk me across the world leaving behind that deep pool of nothingness
And landing in a meadow filled with colour, song and joyfulness.
So for a brief period of time I will not be alone, I will feel love and purpose.
My dreams will seem to come true, but all the while that little voice whispers ...
Soon you will return to the cocoon of isolation and despair, this is not your reality.
I've had people in the past
who i could call my friends
and people who I truly thought would be there
but it's different with you
you know me just as I know myself
and I know you more than you think I do
I sit and watch as you feel the same feelings
think the same thoughts
and look at people the same way
that I know I do
and it scares me
because I would never wish upon anyone
what has been done to me
but I'll never leave you
like you're just so used to
and I hope you'll stay
and we can fight together
this incliment weather
Risk taker and I'd risk more if you trust me with your kind heart.
I read poems this morning and wonder how anyone could be so mean.
I like what I like and know who I like nobody should worry about me.
I don't feel used, abused or the fool for seeking out who I like.
If I'm lucky and have the pleasure of getting to know you better in the real,
I would feel happy and honored and it would be what I want.
What you want is important to me so no hurry on meeting.
I'll be spending time getting to know what you care to share.
Would be my pleasure to gift you a ton of presents and sit
with you and watch your face as you open all.
It would also be nice to spend time with you in a cabin sharing
time reading the real Christmas story from the good book.
Whatever makes you happy and at ease makes me happy.
I learned something from posting all the poems about you.
If I want you to know it's about you, I must post your name.
This one is about and for you and hope to get to know you Betty Ponder.
This church is haunted,
so they say,
the sanctuary possessed,
filled with the melancholy
like the echoes of
cheap communion wine
and halfhearted Hail Marys.
Those who think that
sitting in a pew
is next to godliness.
So they stay here-
too afraid of hell
to ever embark for heaven.
I wonder who cares
Forget it; Life isn't fair
I try to dodge all of their stares
In which they claim, is only a glare
Evil is lurking
And, the devil is smirking
Maybe I can find solace within disaster
When I think of it; I suppose that’s like hoping death comes a bit faster
Paranoia, my greatest defense
It is my impenetrable fence
Although, there is a kickback
As well as an unruly setback
The kickback is I will never let you hurt me
And the setback is I will remain forever lonely
Do you all, yes you; understand me?
Or do I rival a spirit's transparency ?
I know you know the answer
It is not hidden like cancer
I know that I know the answer
For I am the one who contains the cancer
Am I hitting home yet?
Are you done speaking?
Are you all set?
I haven’t even spoken, yet, I am still speaking
This is a twisted little game we are playing
I said it anyway
Though it goes without saying
But who really cares anyway ?
To me you're like a breath of fresh air
I've been trapped so long in a room polluted with hate
Hate for myself and hate for love
You found me in this room and you opened the door
The pollution came pouring out
And so did I
I fell down at your feet
And you lifted me up
You hugged me and told me everything was okay
And I believed you
I could see it in your big blue eyes
"Keep me safe" I uttered
"It's the only thing I know how to do"
Like the sky.
Filled with winter rain drizzling finely
Waiting to be released.
Why on earth words of truth.
Became contorted into lies.
Lifted as haze over the morning stream.
Hovering as heavy vapour.
Weighing on her troubled mind.
The lady thinks.
Maybe much too much.
A timid touch.
Her gloves are violet velvet.
Streaked with stripes of sun's touch.
Not so long ago.
Oh so cute.
He was so damn cute.
She the dame, whose tongue now muted.
The lady for who,
His love for her, he disputed.
Was so vilely refuted.
Words spoken and wrote.
Fell onto eyes and the ears of the stubborn old goat.
Such spite shown.
Think she needs a drink.
He's making her sick.
Maybe she's mean.
Afraid she's not.
She sports a smile.
Masking the tears.
Sometimes she's mellow.
Sometimes she's not.
But rare moments of magic.
Such magic never will be forgot.
All she has left is a heart.
A beautiful heart vacant and hollow.
© 2013 ladylivvi1 (All rights reserved)