k-david-mitchell
American
In the beginning, God created the earth, and he looked upon it in His cosmic loneliness. / / And God said, "Let Us make living creatures out of mud, so the mud can see what We have done." And God created every living creature that now moveth, and one was man. Mud as man alone could speak. God leaned close as mud as man sat up, looked around, and spoke. Man blinked. "What is the purpose of all this?" he asked politely. / / "Everything must have a purpose?" asked God. / / "Certainly," said man. / / "Then I leave it to you to think of one for all this," said God. / / And He went away.
i really did love you
thats why i let you into that
dark wet spot inside of my chest
and thats why i let you
choke my veins and arteries
until the lack of oxygen
left nothing but a dizzying
imprint of your face
burned into my brain
should you ask me now
(not that you would ask,
pride was always your
gravest sin)
i would tell you that you
were like a drug to me
and like most drugs
the crash was a nightmare
i have detoxed every part of me
that you poisoned
and the imprint you left on me
is nothing more than a scar now
an ugly reminder of the final
bullet you put through my skull
should you ask me now
it would surprise even me
just how much we
never happened
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 10:59 PM UTC
i used to marvel
at the palpable love
between two souls
who were rooted
in each other
but that wonder
has been replaced
by sickness
**** it all
i will say it here and now
for myself and all
those who cannot
admit it themselves
i am deeply ill
and nothing short
of salvation can mend
my shattered spirit
i am adrift in open water
waiting for you to
throw the life preserver
but i know you have
already promised
redemption for another
so it is here i will float
until my body cannot
take the beating from
the waves any longer
or until the cold
saps all my strength
and i sink mercilessly
into the jaws of the deep
having the ocean
eat my bones
sounds better than
leaving them
to be worn slowly away
by hope
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 9:19 PM UTC
what is it about love
that makes a man psychotic
and fills his eyes with darkness
and endless hunger
as if a demon has come
and taken hold of his soul
to bend his mind toward
things he would not dare think
they say that time
the great conniving thief
takes everything away in the end
but the only way love can decay
is when the last drop of blood
leaves our cold bodies
i wish i could tear off my skin
and have it over and done with
but i must bear this madness
though it breaks my very bones
and rots me from the inside
i must tame this demon
though it would see me bent
and bowed and broken
this is a war that cannot be won
by exorcism or by force
it is a war that is fought slowly
each day a new battle
until the very last day
and they put me cold in the ground
i just hope when that day comes
she doesn't show up
at my funeral
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 12:11 AM UTC
there are these moments
these moments of pure delirium
that happen as you wake from a dream
when everything around you
seems like its alien
as if its all still part of the fantasy
and you are bewildered
right up until the alarm sounds
directly in your ******* ear
and shatters the illusion
but insomnia is what happens
when you just cant sleep
you are not allowed to dream
or to have peace from the insane
quibbling of the thoughts
that have miniature wars
inside your head
this is when delirium becomes reality
when you can no longer
distinguish imagination from truth
you are a slave to a perpetual
waking nightmare from which
you cant escape
i am a zombie now
i am delirium itself
i feel like i am watching myself
like my life is some ****** sitcom on TV
and i all i want to do is change the channel
but i cant
i just wish i could fast forward
to the part where i finally
find peace
Apr 8, 2014
Apr 8, 2014 at 1:27 PM UTC
she is out there
somewhere in the fog
that hovers over this city
so damnably silent and dark
while in my head
there is no quiet to be found
my thoughts clamor as if
they are an army sent to destroy me
and again i find myself awake
so cursedly awake
beyond the witching hour
oh what witches are out there
hiding in the fog like her
waiting to whisper sweet nothings
into the ear of the next poor soul
who is betrayed by beauty
beauty that burns the eyes
and scorches the soul
and turns what was once a sane man
into a howling animal
for here i howl into the fog
like a lunatic escaped from the asylum
cursing and shouting her name
with disgust and desperation
with remembrance in my heart
and painful lessons in my brain
all at once i feel it
i feel the war that rages on in my veins
between hatred and love
and for the life of me
i cannot make up my feverish mind
i cannot seem to understand how
there is a witch roaming freely in the fog
and yet i am the one
being burned alive at the stake
Mar 31, 2014
Mar 31, 2014 at 10:10 AM UTC
i have never seen a blacker night
than the night that i stood at the edge
of the boardwalk in one of those
sleepy new england coastal towns
i peered out into the freezing darkness
expecting to see lights up and down
the harbor but there were none
that wanted to be found
it was winter
the time when things should be dying
or at least on their way out the door
and there was not a soul walking about
only a solitary fishing boat was moored
with its blinding headlights on
but no one sat in the captain’s chair
for a moment i wondered what it would be like
to steer out that metal monstrosity
into the absolute darkness and solitude
that is the sea
so vast and unforgiving and wild
where fair weather can turn to **** on a dime
where the waves can swallow a man whole
all in terrible silence
for a moment i wondered what it would be like
to be that man trapped beneath the surface
of the blackest water without a lifeline
but then i remembered
i dont have to be underwater to drown
so i put out my cigarette
got in my car
and drove home
Mar 13, 2014
Mar 13, 2014 at 5:05 PM UTC
do i really have to wear a sign
so you know what im feeling
or does the hunger in my eyes suffice
i wonder if can you see me at all
if you can see the facade of a heart
that ive placed on my sleeve
the heart that was made from
too many mistakes and
too many lies
but if you look close enough
if you and only you look close enough
you will see that it is frayed
at the stitchings
that it has been worn down from use
and abuse
if you cared to look close enough
then what i would show you
would not be a sham of a heart
i would rip myself open
and show you the real one
the one that breathes your name
the one that pumps desire
the one that truly beats and has been beaten
and god has it been beaten
if you asked me to
i would do that for you
but i have a feeling you will forget me quickly
much more quickly than it took you
to climb into bed with him
Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 3:54 AM UTC
the road seemed to stretch to infinity
as i squinted to brace my eyes against
the falling snow which stung my cheeks like needles
it was a graveyard of bicycles and cigarette butts
and for a fleeting moment i saw a discarded
bouquet of red roses rolling down the street
petals began to peel away in the bottomlessly angry wind
joining the eddies of swirling flakes and being tossed
into the air in a dance of such sadness and beauty
these are the nights i will remember
the cold nights of bitter walks deep into the urban tundra
the endless nights i spend searching for an answer to my call
which seems to freeze in my throat before it leaves my lips
the nights of hoping that someone has superhuman hearing
and wants to find me and read between the lines
where there is enough space to draw me a map towards home
i only wish it were as simple as falling apart
and being picked up by the wind
Feb 16, 2014
Feb 16, 2014 at 1:57 AM UTC
an unbearable icy wind is plowing
down the darkened city streets
i pull my coat tight around my neck
and fumble for my lighter
for some reason i think the embers
smoldering at the end of a coffin nail
will keep my body warm
my hand doesn’t seem to mind being
chilled to the bone because now
i seem to live only in those spasms
of fire and giddiness in hope
of being brought to the edge
and having the courage or the stupidity
to jump off
but all the streetlights jeer at me
flickering as i stumble homeward
and i cannot help but feel that i too
am slowly being burned
around the edges
Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 11:59 AM UTC
it seems so hard tonight
to let my blood drip onto the page
words turn to ash in my mouth
and i am left with nothing
but the sickly taste of tobacco
and a bitter pill to swallow
the walls of this tiny room seem
like they are closing in as fast
as the madness that guides
me through each dark night of the soul
i am surrounded by the bottles
that sing the songs of all my failures
and if i listen closely
i can hear the taxis buzzing by
the taxis that cart off one-night stands
and lonely hearts and drunken fools
and fools for love and the ones
who were much too late to the party
or too sober to enjoy it
but still i envy them
i feel old
as if the pages to my story
have been written already
and the cover says nothing except
he tried
Jan 18, 2014
Jan 18, 2014 at 12:09 PM UTC