Sometimes I feel like I'm loosing it
Sometimes I feel like I already lost it
But there's that little hope I have deep down in my pocket
I don't try and hope I don't try to expect because every time I do I get let down from it
So I just keep it distant from my actual thoughts
And I'll keep trying my best
but hope is what hurts me
Hope is the let down of the century
You can't hope for what you can't control
And you can't control others so should we hope?
All we do is make wishes
Hoping there's a higher being above us
Hoping we die
hoping we live forever
It's this constant cycle of hate and self loathing .
Sometimes we all feel when we're lonely
But it's you in the end and you can't hope for success you work for it
only you can change you
Only you can judge you
Only you can make yourself happy
And hoping isn't really healthy
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 10:53 PM UTC
I painted a picture
A picture for you
With elegant colors
The perfect stroke
My paintbrush
Painted itself
My emotions
Drew it all out
Patience
As I take time
With each line
The shape of your face
Seeping into the canvas
The perfect picture
In my mind
As I get closer to
The finish line
My patience become
Unnoticeable
I forget to go slow
And my lines become
Scribbles and
It doesn't look like you anymore
I spent hours
Driving myself insane
Hoping it would be perfect
When I put it into your hands
Now you'll never see it
And I wasted time again
Trying to paint the perfect picture
The perfect picture for you.
Mar 24, 2015
Mar 24, 2015 at 9:46 PM UTC
The window was my television
The carpet was my bed
The only thing I looked forward to was you coming in
I couldn't care about the food or how comfortable I was
All I could care about was hoping you'd come home
I'd cry and I'd cry
But it didn't do much
I yelled at anyone who came in my path
Because, it wasn't you.
I'm tired of this window
This carpet needs to be cleaned
My stomach is empty
I have nothing to eat
I was worthy to you
Your not worthy to me
A mans best friend
But a friend doesn't leave
And never come back.
Rip to me
The dog
You didn't care about
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 12:23 AM UTC
Overthink the things you say
I can't believe ,any day.
I can't believe what I see
I can't see the real from the make believe I just hope and Ill just see but, what if what I see isn't reality.
That's the ****** up thing you cant always believe what you see
So what is trust without proof.
What if what I see can't be proved.
I love you
Sincerely ,
Me to you
Mar 4, 2015
Mar 4, 2015 at 2:34 PM UTC
I dont even know where we are honestly.
Scared of the death of your car battery
Were unfocused
Street signs unnoticed
Though you were in the game
sh*ts been over.
What will we do with our lives
as we grow older.
Days turn into nights
it gets colder
Do you feel like a badass
always looking over your shoulder?
You have been used
so have I.
As I look out the window
just me and you
I realized all the things we have been through.
Wondering why we both take the abuse
thats what love tends to do
Gets us confused
Sometimes in silence lonely in our rooms
its never a goodbye always, “see you soon”
As we drive down the street fighting or not.
You're always going to be my first thought.
No matter how much i see you its never enough
I can never get sick of your love.
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 10:54 PM UTC
Piece of paper slowly drifting in the wind
At one point that paper had life to it.
The rain washed it away and the wind let it go
What was on that paper no one knows
You left a note, it said goodbye
That's when I realized things get left behind.
There's no need to cry
It happens all the time
Took a journey on its own
To a place unknown
With different people, different faces
Things leave to different places
I took the note you left me
Threw it in the wind
Told it to never come back again
Were you went no one knows
I'm still at the place we called home
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 10:52 PM UTC
I'm trading sticks of cigarette for a poem
Bottles of beer for a few more
Whiskeys make me forlorn
Why not a few more poems
So I scribble and scribble some more
I'm trading my loneliness for lines
Rhymed or rhymeless, why should I mind
When the please the eyes and tickles the mind
I sure will memorize and mimic them like a mime
So I'm still scribbling on this torn paper of mine
I'm trading my hearts pain
Trading it for a paper and a pen
Like a painter ready to paint
I deep my petite paint brush in a bowl of paint
Dap dap, little dots, strokes and dashes as I dare to paint
Little by little the whole picture is becoming plain
I'm trading all love's tears
Tears shade in secrecy for a poem shared publicly
Though seemingly absurd but poems brings this inconceivable peace.
So I'm scribbling and scribbling my way to serenity.
I trade it all for a piece of poem
I may not have made the point
But I've washed clean my plough
And starring at this beautiful not-so-beautiful poem
I have read and reread it that it is starting to sound like a song.
Reading one last time, "my best trade ever".
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 10:52 PM UTC
Take me to the hospital
I think im overdosing
I couldn’t take it anymore
Good thing they diagnosed me.
He lied there and cried from those pills
Thought if he died he'd be something real
Scars are not always visible
Beaten with words, never felt so invincible
He’s quiet but, his mind is screaming
Tried to figure it out, life has no meaning
They all say its a phase he'll be better soon.
In reality he never was, now what do they do?
__
Chorus
Nobody takes him seriously
Some kind of conspiracy
When they find out
It will be too late
You cant stop
The constant beating
Of self hate
__
Give him a chance to speak
Give him a break from everything he’s seen.
If no one picks him up
He will forever be in our dreams
No more reality
Life just isn't what it seems
Another pill popper, a maniac, a **** smoker, addicted to crack.
When they’re gone you can't bring them back
The state he’s in its caring he lacks
No one gives him confidence so,
He slacks and he slacks.
No job to pay the bills, just a drug dealing act
You can't make money when you ingest all the profit.
When its too late there's no way to stop it
__
chorus
Nobody takes him seriously
Some kind of conspiracy
When they find out
It will be too late
You cant stop
The constant beating
Of self hate
__
He was too young, and it was too soon.
He can't fix what he already consumed.
Sitting all alone in his room.
He was satisfied.
For that one moment he felt alive.
He said he'd be happier if he died.
Yes we cried but, we all moved on
For people like him, I wrote this song
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 10:50 PM UTC
I am not scared and I will be strong. I’ve been lonely for ten years and now, I can see what has been gone. I am taken to a different place, far from home. The plane took me high and soared until things got low. I walked down the hallway of doom and distress. This wouldn't be a problem if he had never left. Walk into a room thats plain yet, engaged in activity. A conveyor belt and tags that say names, scrambled in my mind going their separate ways. I tell myself to focus and find my bags from here. The voices and the noises distract me, nothing has been clear. I see my name as nauseous as I can be. My stomach has taken a turn on me.
I find my bag and look around my vision is blurred and I can not hear a sound. I see his face threw the sea of people. Wearing the same flannel sweater he had ten years ago. He dominates the atmosphere with his torn up pants and his messed up hair. He looks the same but his hair is receding. His face is drooped down like paint that just won't dry. He grew tall but skinny like a plant that has withered. His face is pale but his eyes are rich brown. He has a genuine smile with teeth that had fallen out.
I walk up to this man I haven't seen in years we looked at each other and, we burst out in tears. Even though I don’t know him, I remember his face. From ten years passing by I’d imagine he's changed. He use to be plump and his face well rounded now it looks like he had been beaten by thoughts and loneliness. I can tell when he seen me his life already got better. He couldn’t stop talking like he was gone for forever. I talked right back to him because, I know how it feels.
I look back on all the years without him and realized we feel the same. The difference is he made the choice of being alone ,I had no need to be left. I felt lost my whole life, until he came back. Lost from what I can’t quite figure out. I just needed to feel the feeling of him being around. We walked out the crowded place and, went on from there. No one really changes, he still smelled like beer. You think someone would give up the little things for something so big. I left a couple days after, and haven’t seen my dad since. He chooses to be lonely and, I still suffer from it.
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 10:48 PM UTC
They all say its a phase but we know that's bllsht .
For many years we cry about the same old sh*t.
That the adults always clearly miss.
We are stuck in our minds with no way out.
Stuck in the thought of getting better somehow.
Its not a phase we just can't get over what's been in our minds so long.
We make ourselves unhappy because we can't stop thinking about things.
We can't just forget about it and move on.
Hapiness doesn't just come.
Escpecially when things that make you happy always tend to dissapeer.
We ignore things until it all builds up.
Then we cry about everything that's so messed up.
They all say is a phase but its never changed things can't always change when your not in control of changing them.
We just have to live with the fact that things can't be perfect
You can't always fix what's been broken.
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 10:47 PM UTC