Drip. Drip. Drip.
It’s almost soothing to listen to the nothingness.
Is this what death feels like?
The final release of all of your problems and responsibilities.
Is it really this peaceful?
No. There’s something....missing.

Drip. Drip. Drip.
There’s nothing here.
No comfort, no acceptance.
Just empty space as I look out into the black.
How did I not see it sooner?
This place is maddening.
Where has everyone gone?
Where is the love? The joy?

Drip. Drip. Drip.
Happiness is a facade.
A wall easily broken through only to find the truth.
Darkness, loneliness, hatred, regret.
Why am I like this?

Drip. Drip. Drip.
I wish I could go back to innocence.
I wish I was beautiful.
Why am I not beautiful?
I never chose to be a hideous monster.

Drip. Drip. Drip.
Why am I not white?
Never accepted for not being pure.
Always leaving dark handprints on the fair skin of this earth.
Polluting the air every time I exhale.
I’m disgusting in the eyes of the clean.

Drip. Drip. Drip.
What is this noise?
Oh. I see. There’s little time left.
The blood no longer pours out like a fountain.
Just drips likes a broken faucet.

Drip..........drip.
There’s not much time.
Lucy is close, hands extended.
Ready to grasp me into his mighty hands.
I feel myself slipping.

Drip.....................drip.
I want you to know I did my best.
I’m done struggling. I’m ready.


Drip...................................drip.
....
...
..­
.

Drip.

Death.
That’s all there is in the end.
I’m empty.

By: Jesus Johnson

She will hold you close to her heart even if not close in her embrace.
She will nurture you and bring you up the best she knows how, even if that's by hand.
A mothers love is not always the easiest to get along with nor will it be the easiest to accept.
Groundings and arguments are part of that, scoldings are a part of that, beatings are a part of that.
Mothers raise you to be the best you that you can be and sometimes they make mistakes and get frustrated.
They see you growing up and get frustrated with the independent choices you choose for yourself and the way you stop being so manipulative under their control.
The lessons they teach you are from the mistakes they had to learn the hard way and they don't want to see you mess up like they did.
You are all the goals they had as kids and teenagers and hope that you will live on with a legacy they dreamed of.
What are moms for?
Moms are the rock of the family who stay strong for you at any point through any struggle you have.
They are the heart that beats along side yours as they too feel your pain and your suffering as they see you struggle.
They are the therapist that you can confide in and tell your problems too.
They are the smile because if mom isn't happy, nobody is happy.
Moms are for loving, for caring, for cherishing, for sharing, for flaunting, for believing, for hugging, for everything.
Mothers are there for anything and will do anything for you in their power.
Mothers teach you beauty.
Mothers teach discipline and what it means to be a man or a woman.
Mothers love you unconditionally and teach you the hard lessons in life.
Mothers are there for you.
Anywhere, anytime, anyhow.
They sacrifice so much to be there for you and your success.
Mom,
I may not be the best son in the world.
I have been foolish and made many mistakes.
I've disregarded your teachings and advice at times and for that I am sorry.
Patience ran thin at times and I now understand many of the lessons you have taught me.
I now understand what your intentions were with making a man out of me.
I feel shame and guilt for not always listening to your words and not taken in your advice closely.
Through everything that we have ever gone through I have nothing but the upmost respect for you and your presence in my life.
I love you so very much and as time goes on I understand how heavily those three words weigh and how deep you can be with someone.
You have made a man out of me and prepared me the best you could for upcoming challenges of adulthood.
I owe you my life.
You are a perfect example of what moms are for.
And that impression will never fade from my memory or from this earth

Words of molten lava burst through my head as if it's the earth's crust.
I am angry today.
And long past the self pity of my own depression and moved to a stage of allowing the bullets to burn into my skull red hot.
The smell of gasoline and lighter fluid fill my nostrils as I stand watching my feelings and emotional connections to life go aflame until they are no more than small embers in the black soot filled in my heart.
Hatred takes over as I am a marionette for the devil as he pulls my strings allowing me to dance blindly, succumbing to his diabolical quests ruining my stature of being a human being.
Can you tell I'm troubled?
I shake with rage, finding myself curious of why I am so angry only to allow my curiosity to feed the flame of my madness.
Madness as in both my insanity and my rage.
I am a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.
Waiting to fill the world with black.
Waiting to leave a stain on this earth that is not cleanable.
Waiting to leave a message bigger than the memorandums I write to myself to not **** anyone or myself today.
Oh how I will hate myself when I am in a good mindset and regret these words.
But these are the words that are true that lie under the surface of a smiling face.
A facade long worn out, now faded and cracked.
A bonfire lights inside me as my blood boils, skin melting off until I burst into a ball of flames.
Destroy. Destroy. Destroy. Destroy. Destroy.
My patience has long since run out and I am hurting.
I cry out loud and people just walk past.
I hate you. All of you.
I originally only wished to help and feel your pain in understanding of your trials for connecting with you through empathy and sympathy.
Now I just want you to hurt.
You just allow me to hurt and watch me self destruct, an innocent bystander who meant no harm.
Our world is selfish and people will always have their self interest at first.
I have lost my mind.
My world is burning around me.
Nothing is left.

Words shouted out, a crying call echoing Into vast nothingness.
Everyone hears but no one listens.
This cry of negativity goes unnoticed and is blown over because it doesn't matter.
I have screamed until my vocal chords will no longer make sound.
Why can't I be happy?
I am continually saddened by the fact that every time I go to write another poem tears fall on the page and turn to ink.
The poems of my pain and my depression write themselves.
But I am frustrated by the fact that my poems never are happy.
My life is a continual tragedy of failures.
I am once again at someone else's mercy as I am a marionette, repeatedly handed off between dictators as they aggressively pull my strings.
I am old, I am battered, and I am once again thrown Into the closet at the end of the day with words of disgust and disapproval as my company.
I am in a world of black for not being able to trust anyone has left me alone and depressed.
Bottled up emotions spill out in these words, this is the true ink of suffering.
Yet the ink is invisible to others for they have not seen what I have seen, nor felt what I have felt.
I no longer rest when I sleep.
I shut my eyes only to find myself awake in another reality where I am hunted down and tortured vigorously.
I scream silent screams of pain as I wake up in a cold sweat at the beginning of the bewitching hour.
3 am comes too soon every morning as Satan sits outside waiting to crawl into my head and take control of my body.
I have been strong but days of recent leave me feeling weak and his strength may one day soon take over mine as I succumb to his darkness.
Why?
I have gone through hell already.
I have felt so much pain and lived through so much trauma.
I forgave those who hurt me.
I loved those who needed to be loved.
I have done everything I can to be the best me.
Why is it still there?
Why am I still depressed?
Why do I still want death more than anything?
Why do I still feel darkness even though I am trying to be the light?
These are words I ask myself everyday.
Life continually leaves me hovering a few inches above rock bottom.
The scars will heal, the blood will clot, but the memories last forever.
I am haunted by a past I never asked for and I just want to get away.
Allow me one peaceful sleep.
Allow my wounds to heal.
Allow my mind to be free and open.
I just want to be happy so please by all means,
Allow me to be.

Beauty.
Noun.
A combination of qualities, such as shape, color, or form, that pleases the aesthetic senses, especially the sight.
I am not beautiful by definition.
My body and mind have been too far deformed by the hands of others as if I am a blob of Play-Doh for other people to play with.
My body covered in scars and broken bones healed incorrectly, limbs gnarled , jutting out through my skin.
My mind too pessimistic to see the beauty of life.
The darkness creeping into my mind, taking shapes of crippling depression and anxiety.
I am ugly.
But the first day I ever saw her I knew she was the complete opposite.
Every hair on her head was perfect.
Her skin perfectly smooth and vibrant.
Her eyes full of life glowing from underneath a beautiful set of eyelashes.
Her smile giving off such radiant light that I stand blinded by her brilliance.
She was gorgeous, absolutely stunning in every way.
The definition of the word “beauty” was her.
I never came to realize that she never felt beautiful.
Never realized that behind the illustrious presence that exuded from her, she too, felt like a blob of Play-Doh.
Never realized that at home she was a punching bag for her parents both physically and verbally.
Never realized that she on a regular basis was called fat and ugly by members of her family.
Never realized she was called stupid by her father, never earning his respect and approval.
She was a 4.0 student.
She worked so hard to please her parents.
Please her friends.
Please her classmates.
She was called selfish to the point that she feels bad to do anything for herself, the pain is too much.
She has been broken, over and over again.
But through all of her problems she still gets up and smiles at the world.
She still makes whoever she talks to feel like the most important person in the room.
She still finds the positive in any situation no matter how devastating the tragedy.
She still makes you feel special.


My dearest love,
Words cannot describe how much you have done for me.
Your optimism has shined such a bright light in my world of black so I can see.
And all I see is you.
I never realized what it meant to be committed to someone but being with you is all the commitment I will ever need.
I want to grow together to be what everyone wishes they were.
You are a gem.
As you take ahold of my heart I promise you that I will do everything in my power to make you happy.
I will be there in your times of need when you feel alone.
I will protect you from harm and hold you up when you feel you cannot stand.
I will always have the door open to hold you when you feel pained.
You have made me feel beautiful.
You have opened my eyes to allow me to see what good is inside me.
I will never let you go as long as you let me.
As we go on in life I want you to know you are everything to me.
I love you with everything I have and will continue to do so.
But with all of this I want you to know,
With everything you have ever given me,
With your loving kindness and your care,
With your gorgeous looks and your charming charisma,
With your genuine happiness and the pureness of your soul,
You are beautiful.

Jesus Johnson

It all started with a spark.
Oh look at how beautiful she is! This girl standing before me as she is interested in me.
I am baffled as I never thought I could ever catch the eye of someone this beautiful.
This spark lit a bonfire into my soul, making me feel things I had never felt before, how brilliant it was.
This spark lit a flame of loving emotions as she became one of the most important people in my life.
This spark lit a burning need for her and her care, she made me feel like I could do anything, no matter what people told me.
She was what I needed, what I wanted, everything I had hoped for.  
We connected beautifully she was everything I was looking for and gave all the right answers, did all the right things.
But I lost control of the fire.
I watched it burn as it fed the anger in my soul that I didn't even know was there.
The fire continued to grow and I was swept into it.
I became the fire.
I rampaged around lighting everything aflame, but I went too far.
She was standing right there.
I ripped through her, I breached her trust, I didn't love her enough.
I broke her as this fire went right threw her.
I saw the light fade away from her eyes.
The fire that I was engulfed in distinguished in an instant.
I saw her collapse to the floor in pain as she screamed in agony.
I shattered her heart but it didn't come out in pieces.
I burnt her whole world down.
Now there are only ashes.
Ashes as I didn't give her everything I had to love her.
Ashes as I allowed my anger to push her away.
Ashes as I wasn't there for her.
And it's too late.
Now I just watch as the ashes pour out.
It will never happen again.

They always say goodbye before I can say hello.
Always walk out of the door before I can open it for them.
Always check the message but never reply.
Hahahahahahaha I have no chance.
Not today. Not tomorrow. Not any day.
Yet should I continue to try?
These thoughts run through my mind like a warped record, playing over and over again.
Yet each time it plays there are new memories that run through my mind making the record sound a little different each time it's replayed.
It seems you're giving all your love to someone who will never want it from you.
They update their social media and talk to others about wanting to be loved, just wanting someone to care about them.
But you go and show them your love and support, tell them you'll be there whenever they need it.
But they don't want it from you, they want it from someone else..you're…….not enough…
Yet you know you'd still give anything to have them, you still love the unloveable.
You're not the one, as much as you try to be, all because there is no chance given.
You ask them out and get stood up like they never made plans..no call or text of the reason they never showed..
You...Crying into the cloth napkin of the fancy restaurant that you made a reservation for.
Now A dinner for two….halves.
An empty body in one side, and a shattered heart In another.
One eating A-class food...that's tasteless.
The other eating the emotions …..weeping silently as the two sit together.
Both halves stand up and go separate ways, the date is now over.
You know you'll call again tomorrow, send another message attempting to try again.
You leave roses at the doorstep. See them later that day in the trash.
No chance...not enough…
I'm sorry for trying to love you with everything I have...I'm sorry you don't want it.
But if you ever decide you do...the door is always open.
Just like my arms.