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Logan Cestare Feb 2019
I always knew there'd be times
Where I'd cry one day
Look back a while later and laugh.

But I never knew there'd be a time
Where I'd laugh one day,
Look back later and cry.
Logan Cestare Feb 2019
The music is never loud enough
The cuts are never deep enough
The bruises are never hard enough
The blisters are never severe enough

To silence the screams inside
To **** the monster inside
To make him want to leave
To make him suffer what he makes me suffer

I want to be free from him
I want to leave him
I want peace in my bones
I want rest in my soul.

I can't fight him much longer
I can't win any more battles
I can't take any more blows
I can't keep living like everything is alright...
Logan Cestare Feb 2019
We never really appreciate things
That we use every day,
Do we?

From the shelter we live under,
The internet used to read this very poem,
To the companions by your side.

We take our **** for granted.
We think, "Because It's always been there,
It'll always be there, no matter what I do."

But when you miss on rent,
Miss a bill or two
Or break someone's heart,

You lose those things.
The things you thought would stay by your side
Are suddenly gone.

Empty chasms occupy the spaces they held
And you search for something to replace them,
But nothing ever really fits like the old stuff used to.

You learn the hard way
Don't take your stuff for granted
Appreciate it while you've got it.
Logan Cestare Feb 2019
I realized
I do a lot of dumb things
That hurt me more than anything
For little to no reason

This weekend camping by itself
I’ve blistered my hands
I fell on my back swinging on a pull-up bar
Because I was careless.

Other than that, I cut myself every night,
I put off work unnecessarily
And I let myself love people.
Carelessly.

Over
And over
And over.
Every time,

I pour my everything into them
And they play along with it
Until they decide
They’re over me.

And **** man,
Let me tell you.
Heartbreak can be a major cause
To carelessness

Because in that moment,
Your world comes crashing down.
And you don’t care about anything
Except for them.

So when they leave,
You
Have
Nothing.

I’m even doing it again
Right now.
Falling for people
Who don’t give a **** about me.
Logan Cestare Feb 2019
Love is like a minor form of Quantum Entanglement.
You’re bound to the other person
Emotionally, Mentally, Spiritually.

Your wins are their wins
Their losses are your losses
Pain they have is yours as well.

And it’s scary,
You could be doing fine
Until the ding on your phone

Something could happen to them
That destroys you.
They could have that power.
Logan Cestare Feb 2019
You know that moment,
When you're writing a story or poem,
Where you're just burnt out?

No new ideas to materialize,
Your own hands working
Against your mind

I'm burnt out on life.
Vibrant colors turning gray
Muted versions of what they once were

It gets boring, really.
A sequence of events
Looping in on itself infinitely

Step 1: Wake up,
Step 2: Exist,
Step 3: Go back to sleep.

At least with writing,
You can do something else
While you wait for inspiration

But with life?
The only way to break free
From this gruesome monotony?

I could end it all
Break the chain
Cut off step 2.

Sounds like a good idea,
Right?
There's just one issue with it.

There is no
"Coming back
When you have inspiration to do so"

It'd be like taking a break from writing
And never picking up another pencil
No matter how much you wanted to

I don't want that.
I also don't want to be stuck at the desk
Until my story is complete.

What do I do?
Logan Cestare Feb 2019
The puffy white clouds
The clear blue sky
The laughing friends all around
The crisp spring air

Heartbreak doesn't wait
For stormy days and windy nights.

Heartbreak is ironic.
It can happen at any time
From the brightest, happiest day
To the stormiest, darkest days.
And when you're blinded by the brightness of day
It becomes a little harder
To pick up the pieces

And in the moment
You realize that you are in your own bubble
Your worst day could be someone else's best
And in that moment, you are alone.
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