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Dont you wish
Every thought would go away
Every sign that you have mental problems
Every sign that your upset
It would all just disappear?
Don't you wish that someone
Someone close to you
Would comfort you without saying
"Its your fault!"
Wishes Wishes Wishes.
Someday your wishes might come true
We all feel down but it will get better
We might all not feel like it will
People like you
People like me
But it will
in the end
Poems are a wonderful way
to get your thoughts out
One simple word at a time.
A Story From Nam

We were seventeen or eighteen in Nam
we became friends forever.
No more than friends.
Soldiers get closer than wives.
We went to sleep saying
I love you man.
We switched letters
For our girlfriends.
In case… well just in case.

The bullets rained
in the clearing that night.
I can still see the tracer lights.
Guys fell down all around me.
Crying everywhere.
Air power cleared them away.

I looked for Joe he was lay there.
I held him close
like a baby as he left us.
His last words
I love you man.
I whispered to him
Not as much
as I love you Man
.
I did not notice I had been hit.
After six months I returned home.
In West Virginia his beautiful girl
Opened the door of a small trailer.
She had a baby boy in her arms.
Her blue eyes welled with tears.
I passed the unopened letter to her.
I lied and said the blood
on it was mine.

She passed the baby
to me to hold
As she read the letter.
I kissed his tiny forehead.
And said see buddy
You’re not dead at all
I love you Man.
The notion that he could
not be fixed was held over
his head like an
abyss
and
I could not fathom why
in the **** no one
pulled him from
his own thoughts,
he was drowning,
couldn't you tell?

That boys eyes held
the words
“save me”
in every native tongue

The impending death of hope
was
a familiar song in his bones
and
I wanted to be the one
to excavate it from
the marrow of his existence

Everything about this
boy was synchronized
beauty;
right down to his
very name,

a ledge that he had
been dancing on for
far too long. -DDF
Whispers of wind
Tickle the grass
That tickles my toes
That crunch the leaves
That disturbs the peaceful air.

The hum of crickets
Then reaches my ears
Along with the musical
Chirping of birds
To bring this untouched
Wonder to life
And as full of energy
As of the squirrels that jump around.

The smell that is sweet
And fresh
And rejuvenating
Invigorates me
As I watch in awe
As the sun’s glistening rays
Caress the trees
That stand firm and bold
And strike the leaves
That are intricately placed.

This kingdom of peace
Is then slowly disturbed
As the sun begins to set
When the bugs are free
To come out and play
And that was bad news
For me.

Like silent thieves
They came to me
To steal that which
Flows through my veins.
But that spot
That makes me itch
Is evidence
Of their evil deed.

But the day is not
Ruined
Nor the serenity
Forgotten
As I leave this spot
And wait for the day
When I am fortunate
Enough
To enjoy the beauty
Of this nature scene
Once more.
“I love you.”

Yet,
You do not know
the idea of pills in
unknown bottles
Or the blade
waiting for the whisper
of crimson
nor
The hopelessness and
abandonment of a God
your stomach can
no longer swallow

You do not know
the stale hours
of quiet sanctuary
I took within the
night
to grasp why my
thoughts always ran
to oblivion
Nor
when I was so close
to making Death
my
murderer

I have never
told you any of
this,
baby.

Because
a problem
is still a problem,
and you've always
told me,
“I'm a problem solver.”
but I know
this is one without
a solution.
-DDF
(I'm proud of this)
Take heed fellow traveler...

For inside the mind of every man
There is a saboteur
Wreaking havoc in your head
Filling you with dread

This saboteur is silent
Only you can hear its voice
Pounding in your senses
With every single choice

Do not lock yourself away
With a scheming saboteur
Or place yourself within its path
Or attempt to cure it of its wrath

You may think to follow it a while
That selfish saboteur
A word of caution:
With every mile, room, and tile
The saboteur holds your very soul on trial

While you suffer from the stress
Of trying to be your best
The saboteur is the one who stirs
Giving you no rest

However...

If you still struggle to seek it out
Or make this picture clearer
To learn the face of a saboteur
You need only find a mirror
Realizing I am slipping away from her when she didn't text me happy birthday this year. Even though we haven't talked in four years, the very least we could do is say, "I thought of you today, and I hope it's going great." The absence of that sank its fangs into my throat.

Sipping a hot cinnamon dolce latte while sitting on the second floor deck of the student center. Watching students stream in waves to classes, and wondering what their story is.

Hearing the three chimes in 'Cassy O' and the guitar's chaos at minute 6:47 to 7:45 of 'Freedom' live at the Hammersmith Apollo, 2007.

Gazing at the sky when the sun is on the other side of the world, but a shade of crimson tinges in a terrifying drench.

Conversely, when the sky is so white, all one smooth blanket, I wonder what color will I see when I finally go to sleep- or will I be stuck in a black film?

Knowing a boy is near me so I stretch my neck, straighten my back, and hope he notices everything I want a person to notice and grow to love.

The disappointment people have in me swallows my whole body. Sometimes it's an act of cannibalism, and I can't push away regret faster than it starts to lick its lips at the sight of my glistening blood.

Seeing a picture of my younger self from sixteen, and it seems I have changed far too much to connect with the person in the image. She didn't know anything. I still don't know anything.

I stare at myself in the mirror, sometimes fully clothed and sometimes naked, and I wonder, "Who the hell is this? Who is she?" I detach my soul from my frame, and my face does not match my mind.

My eyes can just take a picture. I know the quality and the subject, my camera does not. I see angles and perspectives differently, and it frustrates me that I cannot get my vision out.

Some days my hearing does not affect me whatsoever. I don't even think about it. But others, particularly when I make mistakes, I blame my disability. And I hate to make excuses.

I want someone to film my passing moments, catch my laughter, study my ****** expressions. Expect me to glow and beam when I hear my favorite sounds, know where my dialect comes from, smile when I mention my friends.

One day someone will hold me and reach intimate places, and I'm afraid I will not be sufficient enough.

The scariest thing, however, and I absolutely have no way of explaining it, is life after death. We live for a fraction of time. We will forever live in white space, and not come alive again. Doesn't that terrify you?
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