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Andrew Crawford Sep 2024
Wind sweeps me
off feet
away from
eden's weeds,
ankles buried.

Gaze momentarily peeks
overhead scenery
between steepest
seas of greenery
so clearly breached,
sun beams cleave
trees' canopies
as they breathe.

Grieving the reasons
seasons recede,
summer's heat retreats
before fall will weep
each and every red leaf.

Beneath bark
heart still beats
like machinery,
arteries bleed
and release debris,
branches secreting seeds
til winter's freeze
renders
timbers' limbs empty.

Arms that reach
for sweet reverie
of the breeze
but instead
creaking knees disagree
as body pleas for relief,
searching for
fleeting serene peace
in frigid degrees.

Featureless creature
seized by defeat
no safety,
plagued by diseased
vulnerabilities.

But time's slipstream
reality the
only guarantee;
though no belief that
letting go means I'm free
with nothing to keep
yet memories
heavily weighing down
beleaguered dreams.

So I still seek;
each piece of autumn
melancholy potpourri,
fragrantly reminding me
as I sleep.
Original ending didn't quite sit right with me so I completely changed it (and did a handful of other edits throughout the rest of it)... something about the crisp fall air has always evoked nostalgia but seems like today thats finally just turned into melancholy, maybe that's just what happens after a while 🤷‍♂️

Initially came up with this snippet then never ended up working it in, guess it was just too literal for my style lol... maybe stands alone as its own poem?

Why do I still see you
when I sleep,
in my dreams?
I said goodbye so
Why won't your ghost
leave me be?
Plagued by memories
Andrew Crawford Aug 2024
Last call
for a shot of medicine;
out the doorway,
jettisoned-
street eddied,
car horns blare
in discordant reveille;
resurrected revenant's
footsteps stumbled,
met cement unsteadily.

Emotionally bankrupt,
emptied and spent of sentiment;
debt, tremendous,
weighing heavily;
penniless gentleman,
beggar prince unmentioned,
last possession
only paltry poetry expressed
in signature sanguine,
saccharine,
and left stretched pencil thin.
Andrew Crawford Aug 2024
Floods raze,
earthquakes shake,
locusts plague,
lost sheep astray,
and my stomach
is a knotted pit of snakes.

My pain cascades in waves
while you pray
to the angels
and patronizing saints;
it's not God's grace
testing faith
but a mind erased
as brain deteriorates.

It isn't fate
but a baby languishing,
afraid of danger,
drained,
trauma ingrained
so I must vacate
because mom
I can no longer bear the weight
of being brave
and maybe I can't be saved
but I can't stand
to see you in this state
and I can't stay
so please just remember
all the love I gave-
I love you always
and I'll take that straight
to my grave-
I never placed the blame,
I'm just exsanguinated
and i bet you'll never even realize
today is my birthday
so i guess I'll see you
at the pearly gates-
please don't wait.
This one is definitely my most personal/raw (and i dont know how I feel about airing this publicly) so not sure if I'll even keep it...

My mom has schizoaffective with religious hallucinations/delusions and is very much in denial... ive tried to figure out how to get through to her for years and in a couple brief moments of lucidity thought I had a couple breakthroughs... but her mental health has rapidly declined to the point where just trying to have a basic conversation is impossible (and made me realized how traumatized I now am because of her, what it still does to *me* because i cant even talk to her without shaking now, etc) and she refuses to ever get proper treatment so I finally had to cut her off (because it would be too heartbreaking to watch her suffer and continue deteriorating, isn't fair to me to let her drag me down with her just because I still care, she won't get help, etc)... I wrote her a letter trying one last time to get through to her and gave her an ultimatum whether or not she wants to keep me in her life and now i have to just know I tried all I could. It took me a week to write... but unfortunately untreated bipolar and schizophrenia are also neurodegerative conditions (and the brain loses gray matter over time) so it eventually becomes a pretty serious impairment as heartbreaking as that is to watch, so im not sure I'll have much luck...

Also saw the date and hadnt even realized it was after midnight so it was my birthday... checked when she texted me (because that's what prompted me emailing the letter) and it was at 12:04am (a mere four minutes into my birthday) and I can guarantee she won't even realize. Thought it was eerily fitting though...
Andrew Crawford Aug 2024
https://youtu.be/q067Au9GA-g?si=VZC-v8SnXGx5xP-X

I'm lucky enough to live in a city with a great poetry scene (and more specifically the Dayton Poetry Slam open mics) which ive recently started attending... last time i went one of the people who runs it asked if he could play the recording of this poem on the radio (which I'm beyond excited about) sometime in September (date still TBD)... bear in mind this was 2 weeks before my first visit to the psych ward and about a month and a half before my first attempt (since I was a kid), although im doing a bit better now. This is what I'd originally written to say beforehand (but got too nervous 😆):

This one isn't really my best or favorite but its definitely my most personal... I've struggled with suicidal thoughts and feelings for almost as long as I can remember, tried to **** myself when I was 9 but wouldn't acknowledge it to myself as a serious attempt til I was in my early to mid 20s cuz I didn't get hurt... then it wasn't until I looked back on it and realized that no, I definitely was trying to (which is part of how I came to realize I have bpd since I shouldn't have reasonably wanted to or tried to at that age like I did)... unfortunately the feelings have never gone away, and although I haven't tried again since then I have gotten pretty **** close. It seemed like things had gotten better for a while, then worse, then better, then worse again... but I've been holding out for things to get better again and I guess what I'm really trying to say is just that so long as you're still holding on, things can get better again. It may not feel like it for a long time and the whole time you might be asking yourself if it ever can but so long as you're still holding on things can get better eventually (in ways we may never expect), but if you give up too soon you'll never see it happen. So just hold on.
https://youtu.be/q067Au9GA-g?si=VZC-v8SnXGx5xP-X
Andrew Crawford Aug 2024
Bathed in rain
tracing emaciated frame
til sun's splintered rays
broke through hazy days of grey-
clouds gave way
and you came
like a flame ablaze.

But by the time
summer cicadas sang again
your love had waned,
entangled embrace betrayed;
pangs of anguish,
despair, and anger
as your name changed
into a stranger's face and gaze.

Dull this ache of my heartbreak
to a wraith that hangs in the shade
until you fade away,
for all ive loved has been in vain
and all that remains
are sanguine stains
and the taste of decay.
Andrew Crawford Aug 2024
Like a lonely rose
froze to stone,
heart hardened to marble
below a coat of snow;
barbed bones grow
labored and slow
but red petals
still radiate, aglow-
posed not quite open,
although not quite closed.

Warmer wind blows,
rain drops
clapping, lachrymose;
spring-lit spirit sprints
towards summer solstice, awoke;
green leaves,
emerald embers stoked,
emitting dandelion smoke.

Trophy bouquet meadows
of romanceless nosegay
and posy mosaic laying apropos;
seeds evoked and thrown
from my own torso.

Emotions
forwards flown
to almost certain vertigo
then swiftly sunk in undertow
from only breeze's uneven strokes;

No thing hallowed,
corpse bloated, decomposed;
worms hunger and burrow,
tomorrow sowing unknown woes-
soul harrowed as if I chose.
Side notes-
A nosegay or posy is a small flower bouquet, introduced in the Middle Ages as a means to counteract the strong odours of everyday life and for protection against disease, but when interest in the language of flowers peaked during the Victorian era flowers and herbs in nosegays were chosen not just for their scent but for their symbolism as well, as a way to communicate the feelings of the person who wore it or of the person who gave it as a gift. Here it has a double meaning.
Harrow means acutely distressing... or a cultivating tool set with spikes, teeth, or disks and used primarily for breaking up and smoothing the soil... here it also has a double meaning
Andrew Crawford Jul 2024
I was listless,
but my fist still twisted,
fingertips gripped
with arthritic stiffness,
grasping for
a gift misgiven.

Spirits lifted,
so my heart skipped its—
yet hands still slipped
with a vicious quickness;
ripped a rift across,
swiftly drifted.

Ill-equipped to fix this
vertiginous abyss
from my precipice,
til obsidian black eclipses
even the lips
that kissed it;
beloved blisses
left amidst
empty wishes,
beyond the reach of wrists,
which shifted;
crippled by what exists—
a distance.
Still not too sure about this one, hard to tell when adding more clutters things up a bit, hard to tell if the flow gets interrupted or stumbles anywhere (so if it does for you please let me know lol)
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