caidyn - Hello Poetry

all too frequently there are days you could spew the most blatant lies “George Washington never existed” “Two plus two is twelve” “I love you for you” “There’s no reason to rebel” and I’d believe you It’s not that I’m gullible it’s that I’m stubborn. I have to be right but I’m full of self doubt. So when I can’t believe my thoughts and I think I’ve forgotten my name you can tell me I’m bad and I’ll take all the blame. I know nothing. I believe not at all. I could recite you all the qualifying characteristics in the diagnostic statistical manual volume five for depression and narcissistic personality disorder I can explain clinically chemical dependency and I can recite the twelve steps from memory. Hell, I remember some math formulas and my teacher’s name from fourth grade but say “tell me about yourself” and all certainty will decay. I know nothing. I believe not at all. Karl Marx said religion is the ***** of the people I never believed in god maybe that’s why I turned to the needle. You’ll say everything happens for a reason which in my proper mindset I won’t believe in but blaming my overt destruction on third party destiny I know deep down is false, but so comforting to believe. I know nothing. I believe not at all. Did I love you? Did I even feel at all? It doesn’t even matter it was still me that took the fall. I still have no self-assurance or any concept of who I want to be no god, no friends, I beg no lover will figure this out for me. Maybe this is who I am, metamorphosing ghost with a crooked smile shaping who I am today knowing it'll all be gone before I can say I know I believe what my brain is telling me not so desperate to please no longer begging on my knees for the false ideal of certainty because I’ll know I know with confidence the simple facts; I know nothing. I believe not at all.

0

Feb 19, 2018

Feb 19, 2018 at 11:09 PM UTC

I Know Nothing

all too frequently there are days you could spew the most blatant lies “George Washington never existed” “Two plus two is twelve” “I love you for you” “There’s no reason to rebel” and I’d believe you It’s not that I’m gullible it’s that I’m stubborn. I have to be right but I’m full of self doubt. So when I can’t believe my thoughts and I think I’ve forgotten my name you can tell me I’m bad and I’ll take all the blame. I know nothing. I believe not at all. I could recite you all the qualifying characteristics in the diagnostic statistical manual volume five for depression and narcissistic personality disorder I can explain clinically chemical dependency and I can recite the twelve steps from memory. Hell, I remember some math formulas and my teacher’s name from fourth grade but say “tell me about yourself” and all certainty will decay. I know nothing. I believe not at all. Karl Marx said religion is the ***** of the people I never believed in god maybe that’s why I turned to the needle. You’ll say everything happens for a reason which in my proper mindset I won’t believe in but blaming my overt destruction on third party destiny I know deep down is false, but so comforting to believe. I know nothing. I believe not at all. Did I love you? Did I even feel at all? It doesn’t even matter it was still me that took the fall. I still have no self-assurance or any concept of who I want to be no god, no friends, I beg no lover will figure this out for me. Maybe this is who I am, metamorphosing ghost with a crooked smile shaping who I am today knowing it'll all be gone before I can say I know I believe what my brain is telling me not so desperate to please no longer begging on my knees for the false ideal of certainty because I’ll know I know with confidence the simple facts; I know nothing. I believe not at all.

68

To adolescent girls We know infatuation as love. A cute boy, paying attention and being kind Unlike our mothers and fathers. Or a handsome young man Showing just enough distance, and disinterest, That it is familiar, but we do not yet know why… So the starving soul craves more, more, more. So our stupid hearts say love, love, love. I do not know about you, But in retrospect I do not think that I loved these boys. I would sit up late, plagued with an insomniac’s depression. Thinking of these boys that had left me in the dust, Commercials playing loudly over an old box television. My impressionable brain unaware of the absorption of utter ******** But the logical fallacies of consumerism and capital leaked into my psyche, As I begged to be noticed. Rebranding myself every so often Once even under a different name. Always new labels; A cheerleader, an emo, a stoner, a scholar Trying to find some sense of self, Trying to sell my soul (subconsciously) for acceptance. No one ever understood me like you, And I dare to say, perhaps out of ego, that no one has ever understood you like me. You've had friends for longer than me now, You are happy, without me, clinging to your side. Maybe you are understood once again Maybe you are the chameleon that I once was. Either way, I want you to be happy, do as you do. Although I can no longer be the chameleon, I cannot change my colors as life goes on around me, fitting in whatever life throws at me. I feel old, I am deeply tired. I know that I am young, but I have seen too much. I threw my life away for a self-titled happiness extract, Isolation and degradation became all I knew. Cynicism rose up inside of me, and when I heard the commercials I once fell asleep to I decided that not only the advertisements, But the world was ******** I remember young adolescence, I recall kisses and uncomfortable fondling in basement bathrooms and crawlspaces with these boys in which I thought that I loved, That never cared for me like I cared for them, Even so it was infatuation and not love. I remember a kiss in your bed. I remember the absolute terror when it occurred to me, years later. I never loved anyone softly, I loved viciously, desperately, and even loved just to cling on for life. I loved you softly, I loved you dearly, I loved you deeply. I always told myself it was platonic, but it was neither platonic or romantic. I just loved you, like I had never loved anyone else. Without fear, without sacrifice, without dereliction. I did not realize this Until a state-assigned therapist pointed out in the basement of the facility I resided “When you speak of her, I see love in your eyes that I don't ever see.” I hated her for that, “Dumb ***** I love writing, I love music, I loved Xander, I love my family!” “But Caidyn,” she said “I have not ever seen this kind of love in your eyes.” It occurred to me then, and not until then That when I held you, as you slept In a hotel room after a concert As infomercials bellowed violently into my soul That I will never feel that sense of warmth, happiness and belonging ever again. Not to say I won't find love, But the innocence and naïveté The faith I had, that we would escape side by side And always remain side by side. I know now, That your first love Never works out like that. I dream of days where ridiculous advertisements filled my sleepy brain without judgement, Because for any glimpse of hope I get I am devoured by longing. I remember how “everything is ******** And feel guilty for my bitterness. I realize I am no longer young in spirit I am not the demographic for any meaningless advert. I am a forgotten human, not an outcast, but a memory to those I cared for. I can no longer avoid it. I think of when I held you, and didn't even think anything of it.

0

Jan 25, 2018

Jan 25, 2018 at 9:42 PM UTC

Commercials

To adolescent girls We know infatuation as love. A cute boy, paying attention and being kind Unlike our mothers and fathers. Or a handsome young man Showing just enough distance, and disinterest, That it is familiar, but we do not yet know why… So the starving soul craves more, more, more. So our stupid hearts say love, love, love. I do not know about you, But in retrospect I do not think that I loved these boys. I would sit up late, plagued with an insomniac’s depression. Thinking of these boys that had left me in the dust, Commercials playing loudly over an old box television. My impressionable brain unaware of the absorption of utter ******** But the logical fallacies of consumerism and capital leaked into my psyche, As I begged to be noticed. Rebranding myself every so often Once even under a different name. Always new labels; A cheerleader, an emo, a stoner, a scholar Trying to find some sense of self, Trying to sell my soul (subconsciously) for acceptance. No one ever understood me like you, And I dare to say, perhaps out of ego, that no one has ever understood you like me. You've had friends for longer than me now, You are happy, without me, clinging to your side. Maybe you are understood once again Maybe you are the chameleon that I once was. Either way, I want you to be happy, do as you do. Although I can no longer be the chameleon, I cannot change my colors as life goes on around me, fitting in whatever life throws at me. I feel old, I am deeply tired. I know that I am young, but I have seen too much. I threw my life away for a self-titled happiness extract, Isolation and degradation became all I knew. Cynicism rose up inside of me, and when I heard the commercials I once fell asleep to I decided that not only the advertisements, But the world was ******** I remember young adolescence, I recall kisses and uncomfortable fondling in basement bathrooms and crawlspaces with these boys in which I thought that I loved, That never cared for me like I cared for them, Even so it was infatuation and not love. I remember a kiss in your bed. I remember the absolute terror when it occurred to me, years later. I never loved anyone softly, I loved viciously, desperately, and even loved just to cling on for life. I loved you softly, I loved you dearly, I loved you deeply. I always told myself it was platonic, but it was neither platonic or romantic. I just loved you, like I had never loved anyone else. Without fear, without sacrifice, without dereliction. I did not realize this Until a state-assigned therapist pointed out in the basement of the facility I resided “When you speak of her, I see love in your eyes that I don't ever see.” I hated her for that, “Dumb ***** I love writing, I love music, I loved Xander, I love my family!” “But Caidyn,” she said “I have not ever seen this kind of love in your eyes.” It occurred to me then, and not until then That when I held you, as you slept In a hotel room after a concert As infomercials bellowed violently into my soul That I will never feel that sense of warmth, happiness and belonging ever again. Not to say I won't find love, But the innocence and naïveté The faith I had, that we would escape side by side And always remain side by side. I know now, That your first love Never works out like that. I dream of days where ridiculous advertisements filled my sleepy brain without judgement, Because for any glimpse of hope I get I am devoured by longing. I remember how “everything is ******** And feel guilty for my bitterness. I realize I am no longer young in spirit I am not the demographic for any meaningless advert. I am a forgotten human, not an outcast, but a memory to those I cared for. I can no longer avoid it. I think of when I held you, and didn't even think anything of it.

79

I used to chase needles without thread Perhaps lace, laced strongly and surely No doilies for spoiling souls My mouth an overflowing ashtray Arms a fracking site deeply polluted But today I had a taste of freedom Not full liberation But unrestraint in the chill of the night air Immunity in the damp grass Elbowroom in the dimmed night sky My brains puppeteer must have taken lunch Now that I’m not being dragged and pulled In every which way at full strength I hope he never comes back This limpness leaves behind my limitations.

0

Dec 27, 2017

Dec 27, 2017 at 8:19 PM UTC

Taste of Freedom

I used to chase needles without thread Perhaps lace, laced strongly and surely No doilies for spoiling souls My mouth an overflowing ashtray Arms a fracking site deeply polluted But today I had a taste of freedom Not full liberation But unrestraint in the chill of the night air Immunity in the damp grass Elbowroom in the dimmed night sky My brains puppeteer must have taken lunch Now that I’m not being dragged and pulled In every which way at full strength I hope he never comes back This limpness leaves behind my limitations.

15

Once a lover said to me “I’d like to pick your brain,” “You’re a beauty darling, but I think you’re quite insane.” I did not doubt a word he said so I opened up my mind I think he got a little scared when he realized what he’d find. Empty bourbon bottles, littered in my head Crumpled up old ***** notes, wishing I was dead. Then one of the voices that once belonged only to me Snuck into his consciousness out of curiosity It whispered scary sayings right into his ear He clutched my hand tightly, said “Never leave me, dear.” I looked into terrified eyes with sincere empathy But felt nothing but relief that the terror had left me. Before it could crawl back to me I shut my mind quickly, I will be ****** if I’m the one living life sickly.

0

Dec 27, 2017

Dec 27, 2017 at 5:28 PM UTC

A Sonnet For Self Preservation

Once a lover said to me “I’d like to pick your brain,” “You’re a beauty darling, but I think you’re quite insane.” I did not doubt a word he said so I opened up my mind I think he got a little scared when he realized what he’d find. Empty bourbon bottles, littered in my head Crumpled up old ***** notes, wishing I was dead. Then one of the voices that once belonged only to me Snuck into his consciousness out of curiosity It whispered scary sayings right into his ear He clutched my hand tightly, said “Never leave me, dear.” I looked into terrified eyes with sincere empathy But felt nothing but relief that the terror had left me. Before it could crawl back to me I shut my mind quickly, I will be ****** if I’m the one living life sickly.

14