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David Hasselblad Sep 2019
Why do you hate me?

I hate you because I see what I used to be,
I hate you because I am weak and insecure,
Because if I didn’t.. love I might see,
Because my childhoods impure,

I hate you because I lashed out on others,
It burns and I try to help me, myself and I,
Shifting my pain to another,
Anxiety twisting my guts to cry,

The child who spit and bit,
Who tore emotions to shreds,
Always alone, in a fit,
Knotting my brains threads,

Suffered like my brother,
Abandon fills my soul,
Even when my hearts a flutter,
Relationships a fanatics parole,

Childhood lessons, are a lack of love,
Behind progress of mental bars,
Abandoned faith, in I and above,
Til all I taste is hell and fallen stars,

I hate that it’s unfair,
Irreparable damage, I’d rather forget,
A twisted, burning nerve to care,
Feeling, letting you in, I’ll regret,

Can’t help but feel,
That it’s all some ****** manic coup,
Always believe I’m letting myself heal,
I hate, otherwise I might love you.
David Hasselblad Aug 2019
The Funeral of Daniel Adams

We gather today,
Under granite sky,
To mourn and pray,
To celebrate and cry,

Daniel was a haunted soul,
Who loved his friends and kin,
Weight of the worlds toll,
Who bottled it all within,

An keen eye for art,
For beauty, music and life,
A large, giving heart,
Watercolored with strife,

Last time we spoke,
He promised he was okay,
Even ended on a joke,
Thinking it a good end to the day,

Daniel thought everyone was lying,
Wanted him around to use and pity,
Inside he was crying,
Hours, absently cruising the city,

Always answered his phone,
Any hour of the night,
Forgiving, but not one to condone,
Always had my back in a fight,

In the end,
He never sought care,
Only others he’d defend,
His plain truth, life isn’t fair,

Given this world a lot of good,
Even lost, he was there,
Lost in would’ve and should,
A dreamer, one to dare,

He dreamt of peace,
Of distant shores and bays,
His demons shackled, no cease,
Screaming at them in empty hallways,

I wish he sought someone out,
Reach out, when he was drowning,
Backup in his mental bout,
Before dark thought started crowning,

I would’ve listened,
If you needed aid, or to cry,
Now our eyes glisten,
You didn’t have to die,

You left a hole,
On my phone but not here,
Not just your own time stole,
Leaving us sorrow and a tear,

Celebrate your life, weep your death,
I wish you decided not to leave,
Shaking under my breath,
We love and grieve,

Just another year...
Instead we sing your song,
Thinking you’d always be near,
We’re confused, scared, hurt, we were wrong,

You were a good son,
A good brother,
Quick with a joke or pun,
Preaching peace among one another,

But drowned in his demons screams,
Droning out the song he sung,
Haunted in fever dreams,
When he turned his own gun,

Daniel, you know me,
I don’t easily rattle,
Just can’t believe I didn’t see,
Grieving you lost your battle,

We’ll always have your memory set,
Venting, emotions to release,
Know we’ll never forget,
Wherever you are, find your peace,
David Hasselblad Aug 2019
Picture frame on a shelf,
Dreaming the baby I never got to hold,
In my arms, I wake holding self,
Each time taken leaves me cold,

The dream ends the same,
The black eyed demon takes her away,
Tears the goal in it’s twisted game,
Pleading to let her stay,

Laughing, holding her like a doll,
Rattling her at me,
Only groveling makes it stall,
Seconds added, more pathetic the plea,

Awakened in shuttered breath,
Flashes of running with her,
Her memory living an undying death,
Gone when I wake, usually all a blur,

Feeling guilt for trying to move on,
I didn’t give her support,
Didn’t notice love til she was gone,
I never gave her comfort,

Excuse of military doesn’t cajole,
A seed of guilt was sown,
Sprouting into a hole,
Emptiness I hone,

This nights dream was clear,
Vivid as day,
Demon drags me drowning in pit of beer,
Where the demon likes to play,

Submerged, I grip my child,
Feeling strings attached to her back,
Demons laughter running wild,
Swimming up, under attack,

Clawing onto shore,
I can’t cut the strings,
Details lost before,
I turn her over examining the things,

I pulled at one,
I hear a coo...
Arms flailed a ton.
When I pulled two,

She was cold,
Light in her eyes were out,
Truth began to unfold,
What the whole dream was a about,

Demon is of my own making,
Not my baby in its hand,
It is its hand, makeup flaking,
Beginning to understand,

Gestated by that hole of guilt,
Abomination of self blame and woe,
An altar of pain is what I built,
A demon catching my in the undertow,

I wasn’t there, I won’t pretend,
I blamed myself for her end,
Ridding this demon felt like killing her again,
Memory of the call crying for godsend,

In tears I begin to walk,
To starve it of my pain,
The demons cries echo and stalk,
Tearing down altar, the stain,

Burying double edged sword of abandon,
Just taking the lesson to learn,
Only way to fill the land in,
Away my head I turn,

Straying from my numbing revel,
To walk and let go,
Self made campaign, long and slow,
Dissecting a demon from my mental devil,

I’ll never forget you,
I can’t change that your gone,
Letting go, this will be new,
I think I’m ready to move on,

So true healing can begin,
More demons, quest after quest,
Seeking the light within,
To find peace and maybe find rest,
David Hasselblad Aug 2019

Three thousand two hundred and forty tiles,
Three hundred and twelve hours, thirteen days,
Ten thousand steps walked, five miles,
Eight by eight, padded room, orderlies patrol hallways,

Thoughts patterned over, over and over,
Wits dull, under pharmaceutical pills,
Feigning defined sanity in isolated den,
Seeing different then ‘aids’ with weak wills,

Not fitting the social norm,
Emotions and thoughts invalid,
Indoctrinating those who won’t conform,
Not codependent on a screen or new salad,

Sitting cross legged, muscles sore,
Straight coat hugging me,
Arms, torso, numb, like the day before,
Staring up, the barred light is all I see,

Rocking to engage my core,
Listening to helps, words, drone,
Dying to see water upon a shore,
Here for safety yet never so alone,

Sloppy with medicinal chemicals,
Padded walls permanently stained,
Where people tried to bash their skulls,
From boredom and too much sleep attained,

Isolated torture is a maddening pain,
Socially rejected now a product of an insecure hell,
Painting their lines, difficult to abstain,
Each day, reliving how I fell,

Walking the halls, ‘I’, can’t come out,
Coming out in the room I’m trapped in,
In silence, fore it’s insane to vent by scream or shout,
Judged and charged for every mental sin,

Imprisoned, I never feel rested,
Exhausted trying to keep my mind sharp,
History forgiven, but I’m not accepted,
Seconds, hour, as I mentally cry and carp,

Days on end getting bested,
Drugged, my traumas they pierce and poke,
Building walls, while my minds molested,
Individuality embers into smoke,

Cutting brain apart, they mold,
Feeling self losing grip,
Struggling to keep my hold,
All I got not to slip,

I just want to be free,
My clarity and learned self is hazy,
Gods, some force help me!
I, think, I think I’m going crazy...
David Hasselblad Aug 2019
Train Station in Autumn

A score of transports have passed,
Waiting for signs,
Held to a pains ticket gauging how long it would last,
My feet sprouting vines,

Words left unsaid,
Halted from fear and guilt,
Quivering whenever I coincide them as...
Because admitting it, is my pains hilt,

My sword as strong as my angle,
As strong as my instinct and steel,
Held pain, only creates a tangle,
Letting go, my Achilles heel,

Blood of future and past,
I wish I did more,
I didn’t know, it wouldn’t last,
Sitting at the train stations gift store,

I stay and hope and pray,
Waiting for a sign,
For a sign to move or stay,
The plan faulty in design,

To realize their train will never come by these tracks,
I still have my tickets to tomorrow,
My baggage bundled in tearing burlap sacks,
Move on from the sorrow,

I hear that train coming,
Destined for a new day,
Finally can start walking instead of running,
Maybe acceptance will make it decay,

The feeling will never be gone,
A void, where something should be,
Maybe the train will open a new dawn,
Time healed until another passing was to be,

From a reflection never born,
To someone who always checked in,
I got to pick the first bit of clothing she’d adorn,
Strength, kindness, willpower and empathy goes to my dear kin,

You vent, one listens,
Yet the folks at the train stop everyone has an ear,
A whistle blow, I hear the pistons,
Approaching the tomorrow train in anxiety and fear,

Believe, they are with me,
Holding faith in their belief in this untrained seer,
Stepping onto train, I and we,
Building anxiety as I listen to the train shift a gear,

Steel and steam pulling and coming to life,
My breath clutches, frozen,
Memories of a concerned grandfathers long run strife,
A child never to be where I put my throes in,

The compassionate, fiery soldier who was a sister who loved to discover,
Watching a familiar type of person still waiting with baggage in stow,
A familiar thought arising as they wait on another,
“Why. Did you have to go?”

For one I wish I had more time,
Another I wished I could’ve learned more, to see,
The loss felt for my child is prime,
So badly I wanted to trade, for instead it to be me,

I let learned principle restrain me from my mothers father,
My child I could’ve given full support and emotionally stay,
My dear kin told me not to bother,
... she promised. She’d be okay,

The train begins to move,
Breathing new air,
For myself and nothing to prove,
Keeping faith they will always be there,

The sky looks bright and blue,
Sleep was always restless and never tired,
This might be a good chance to grab a wink or two,
Finally sitting after all this turbulence I’ve mired,

I’ll still flinch at any of their names,
Time, faith and understanding,
We can’t always predict what the stars preordain,
We just hope we learn enough to cushion our landing,

With a legacy he lived long, learned, and had a life of progress,
Then our immortal fire who fought, Cared, tried,
So much to process,
I was never spiritually, but I cried,

To heaven, to hell,
Support goes a long way,
I feel I was ****** but that day I fell,
At that specific time, there was no price, I wasn’t willing to pay

The many night I so deeply cried,
Feeling as if karma has been taking her price,
“Manning up”, neglected emotions I set aside,
Nightmares, them alive only to awaken and be taken twice,

My ticket gone I feel insecure,
Clouds forming a bird with lightning in its wings,
New visions and sights to procure,
With all of the secrets that it brings,

Those passed loved me,
As I will, forever them,
From my emotions I can not longer flee,
Growing path and progress’ rooted stem,

The tracks lead me to my next stop on trip,
To learn and heal,
Listening, growing, trying to prevent others from a slip,
My lost can always be a passenger I’ll always feel,
However, I think it’s time.
For me to behind the wheel.
David Hasselblad Aug 2019
Quilt of Shade

Sheets of shadow fold,
Knitting new inches of a heavy quilt,
Nightmares and darkness to behold,
Causing love and happiness to wilt,

A horror of neglected emotions,
Each quilted square a new scene,
Pushing darkness, going through the motions,
Scalding showers to feel clean,

To feel warmth, inside and hide,
When opening to other makes you weak,
Pushing those who tried when you cried,
Counting only self when times are bleak,

Legions in a single square,
Each color a tainted shade,
Each one a devils badge to wear,
Constant weight, the feelings begin to fade,

Emotional pain, physically twists organs and nerves,
Living in the past,
Keelhauled by life’s curves,

Dead demons drone dour,
Drawing dimming desolate soul,
Crown of ruin at the top of this tower,
Devils whisper because angels would not cajole,

Wearing a mask to conceal your tears,
Painted in humor, smiles, offered assistance,
Under, a face scarred by fears,
Escaping shadow, the only consistence,

But shadow moves faster then light,
Understanding only gets you so far,
A devils hold, precise, contrite,
Changing, becoming the scar,

Labeled empty, hollow, fuckboi, or ***,
Forgetting sides, lost in a fight,
Offered hands but screaming ‘no!’
Pushing those who seek inner sight,

In prayer you crow,
To gods, devils, one to seven,
Cold, cursed, driven in flow,
To whoever will take you to heaven,

My mind these shadows pry,
Clinging to humanity,
Under distorted static you cry,
****** by hope and insanity,

Soul slipping in peril,
Through acts of good,
But still growing feral,
Those outside claim to see, but misunderstood,

Seeing self as no hero,
Hurt on levels weighing out the helped,
Karmic scales tip zero,
Tiny wounds sown but others scalped,

Lifetime member to the order of black,
Shadows that guide the annoying fly,
Showing light, deep down desire attack,
Good intentions always leading to an early goodbye,

Only oneself to blame,
Swatting hands that offer aid,
Just another piece in the devils game,
Just another lost sinful crusade,

Giving all to save,
Reflecting,  blood soaked, in a silver mirror,
Inside ones own mind, a slave,
Suddenly you’re the one your people fear,

Why children cower under the quilt,
Hero in war begins to debauch,
Confidently pushing your responsibility and guilt,
Becoming the old villains you used to watch,
David Hasselblad Aug 2019
Eaten Alive by Nothing

Surrounded yet alone,
Wasteland of desperation and despair,
Reaping rotting fruit, bloats, gnats, flyblown,
Longing, loneliness is never fair,

Lanterns and candle light to keep you warm,
Dancing shadows morph to devils,
Slitting despair bleeding, breeding ticks that swarm,
They feed and breed into hungry weevils,

Burrowing through chest to feed on carrion of rotting heart,
Also feeding on air from lung,
Heart along in solitude from ventricles shredded apart,
Alienating through truth, be still my lashing tongue,

Friends are always around,
Right until you need,
A lost letter of emotion sent outbound,
Lost but never found, devils take the lead,

Numb, in slowly boiling water like a frog,
Past scars of trauma a curse,
Can only feel so much before a clog,
Until you become cold, psychotic, or worse.

Break out the old smokescreen mask,
Smoke, laugh and smile,
Survivals your only task,
Foot in front of foot until your first mile,

Decaying down to skin and bone,
Each mile a greater distance,
Always harder when you’re alone,
Exhausted, running from the devils persistence,

Until a day you want to be alone
Quarantining spread this plagues fate of hate,
Feeling like happiness is just a loan,
Someone finally listens, too little, too late,

You hug your dark cloud,
With a thirst water doesn’t sate,
Ears covered, anxiety so, so loud,
Take a shot, a smoke, anything to placate,

An infested body no one wants close,
Insect army of traumas and abuses,
Each growing into a lethal dose,
At least for now, I still have my uses,
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