Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
289 · Jul 2018
boggled chapter
Elliotoats Jul 2018
the stems of fresh cut grass simplify my mornings to bliss,
but the echo's of unwanted confrontations have myself asking whats going to come of this.
The hums of arguments hitting the walls of the house,
Have my mind and my heart chasing each other around like cat & mouse.
Feeling un-wanted in a place I need to call my own,
I can't find any place anymore to even consider my home.
The only savoir to my mind not imploding is the possibility of it coming to an end.
Don't know whether to get involved but to scared to even press send.
Messages being wrote and then being demolished by the back space,
I need to get away, I need to find a good place.
Elliotoats May 2018
Once I was a little boy, full of dreams & hope
But the bullies words and nicknames were kicked into my brain until pulp,
Hope of freedom and dreams of perfection,
Seeped through my tears untill froze of efection.
Memories of summer breeze yet filled with no worth,
Winter times the only times I wish death upon birth.
Bitter seems, terror dreams & everything in between,
Strong mind, overly kind yet it’s never as it seems.
Suicide at 6 years old had my life expectancy almost cut,
BUT.
Stubborn as I may,
I lived to see another day.
And to the loved ones I’ve lost and the cold heart covered with frost,
Has me ending every night giving the lord my daily prey.
171 · May 2018
Less striking.
Elliotoats May 2018
Poems less striking,
As my thought patterns weaken
Less sleeping,
more creeping,
measuring up death and adding up my mishaps.
Doubling the moments up where I slipped up or stumbled,
Mumbling words as my soul crumbles,
Asking myself all questions
Suggestions on conceptions of miss-conceptions of pass times.
Thinking to myself why?
Why be so forgetful
Mind stumbling, as my weak stomachs rumbling
Crumbling up words,
Digesting everyone's verse
But not taking in my own
I feel like a clone of what I ones was
Mixed with satan
Contemplating
My life being taken,
Salvations passed
I'm masked
Emotions surpassed
Feelings never connected
Subjected to life's underworld
Humanly neglected, true minds speak unkind sentences
Testing my intelligence,
Rumbling words with no meaning
Subsequent healing of the ones I've broke
Poetic justice for the words that can't be rightfully spoke
Freedom of speech tarnished in my demeanour,
Ora diminished by negatives
Wanting to make a positive
But not putting the will into wanting to live
Is subsiding the love I want to give.
For the righteous ones.
I'm done.
151 · May 2018
Beginnings.
Elliotoats May 2018
Meaningful words slurred, as I intoxicate my verse
Thoughts shading my actions, as I re-create the worst.
Brain-washed, time flicking my watch ticking, If my time was toxins
I'd be washed up in the seconds I spent thinking. Hours drained slipping out of suppression, Noticing my sorrows,
crippled in my depression.
Thinking of the time I had a good day,
floating emotions
with potions of commotions as I levitate.
Stuttering feelings of the righteous ones who I've lost,
The cost of burying my feelings in compost.
Shattered dreams,
as I scream for salvation through my actions.
Adding up sorrows,
subtracting my tomorrow's,
dividing my Heroes as I medicate my ego
While Whiskeys hitting my blood,
needing my hit like ****** from a needle.
Depositing my thoughts and inner mind,
to my conscious I seek inside
Hiding wisdom in my mind as co-inside my rhymes,
with the things I seek when to the light of life blind.
Reckoning my behaviour, will this spark be my savour,
passing suicide notes to the ghost beside me,
as I collide with danger.

— The End —