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As I sit here by myself,
I try to write these words.
I try to force them into sense,
and make them not sound absurd.

I used to transfer pain,
through the tip of this pen.
Pouring out the poison,
so that I could think again.

I used to bask in the hollow,
that the transfer left behind.
Breathing in the silence,
of a defragmented mind.

Then one day I wrote something,
and set back to enjoy the peace,
but the transfer didn’t happen,
and the noise seemed to increase.

It was like instead of hitting transfer,
my mind hit copy instead.
It was there on the page,
but it was still in my head.

I began to panic,
with every poem I wrote.
The poison wouldn’t leave,
and it was coating my throat.

I began to notice teardrops,
and that my words were blurred.
I never even knew I was crying,
but my brain was slurred.

Whatever this is,
it’s taken hold of me.
It won’t allow me the pleasure,
of setting my thoughts free.

So I’m slowly filling up,
and tipping more each day.
One day I’ll crash over,
and this debt will be paid.

I think that’s the reason,
that I can’t force it out.
I have sins to atone for,
ones I can’t forget about.
Unmasque! Unmasque!
I think Poe said it best.
The masks are hiding us,
only showing our best.

What if, let’s say,
I was to take this mask off?
Would you scream, I wonder,
or would you simply scoff?

Underneath this mask,
is another you see.
So how many layers until,
you get down to me?

I think at the base,
that person’s ceased to be.
I’ve suffocated him slowly,
masking insanity.

I’ve welded the doors shut,
and hid away inside.
Praying that the Red Death,
would simply let me abide.

But now the party’s over,
Unmasque! Unmasque!
The insanity has grown feelers,
through these layers of mask.

One by one they’ve fallen,
and been swept aside.
Revealing the damage,
I tried so hard to hide.

Now the air has grown thin,
through this last mask I wear.
I can feel it pulling away,
and starting to tear.

Forgive me please,
I knew not what I done.
At least I’ll be at peace,
with my true face in the sun.
Whispering sadness,
is calling to me.
Dreams become nightmares,
and won’t cease to be.

It’s like I’m running dead out,
and then it’s a forty five degree wall.
Then no matter how fast I run,
I’m destined to fall.

I’m fleeing from something,
but I can’t get away.
It only keeps gaining,
with each passing day.

I know if I was to stop,
to simply catch my breath,
then it will be upon me,
and that would mean my death.

The weapons I had,
to keep this beast at bay,
have slowly been lost,
or have been stripped away.

That’s an apt description,
of depression I think.
Eventually the ground will turn soft,
and I’ll start to sink.

It’s just overwhelming,
this sadness i feel.
I try so hard to fight it,
but I don’t want a pill.

I guess the terror of death,
is nothing compared,
to losing who I am,
so that I won’t be scared.

So I apologize,
for not being alright.
Just remember I’m struggling,
with things I can’t fight.
Once upon a time,
is how fairytales begin,
but Happily Ever After,
is not reality before The End.

Take anguish and grief,
and sprinkle it with some spite.
Add a dash of self hatred,
and some pain till it tastes right.

Don’t forget betrayal,
to give it that bitter note.
Maybe just a pinch of love,
to bring the sweetness to your throat.

And you can’t forget addiction,
any one will do.
Maybe a touch of insanity,
if you want some zest to this stew.

Now, Once Upon A Time,
you tried this meal,
and Happily Ever After,
was certainly not how you feel.

I’m afraid that if we keep eating,
then we’ll all be dead soon.
Because what we’ve made is poison,
and hope is our spoon.

So now it’s your choice,
eat up, or start again.
I’d suggest starting over,
cause if you don’t it’s The End.
Brad post Oct 3
Why is it so hard,
to simply let you go?
It feels like you just left,
but that was three years ago.

How can it still hurt,
after all of that time?
I’m so far from ok,
even though I say I’m fine.

I miss so many things,
that you brought to my life.
I miss your laughter and smiles,
and calling you my wife.

I miss running my fingers,
through your ***** blonde hair.
I miss being happy,
it’s just simply not fair.

Now the person I am,
has changed so ******* much.
Now I just go through the motions,
of living and such.

I try to be angry,
and hide behind hate.
I try to rhyme you away,
but the pain won’t abate.

I just really miss you,
and I just don’t feel whole.
You took my heart when you left,
but you also took my soul.

You were, and still are,
everything to me.
Now I love you from afar,
and that’s how it has to be.

Maybe one day,
I’ll finally let go of you,
but not today,
today I don’t want to.

So I’ll see you tonight,
and in my daydreams today.
Maybe you see me too,
but if you don’t, it’s ok.
Brad post Sep 29
Where are you going,
and where have you been?
How long have you traveled,
never finding the end?

How can you keep moving,
towards the nothing you see?
How’d you become a prisoner,
yearning to be free?

When did you realize,
nothing mattered anymore?
When did the clarity hit you,
that it didn’t matter before?

When did the hate,
take control of you?
Guiding your actions,
and all that you do.

When did the darkness,
begin to creep in?
Consuming the light,
that used to shine within.

When did you decide,
to stop living your life?
Each day as painful,
as a fresh cut from a knife.

There has to be more,
I’m just afraid that there’s not.
My hope has dried up,
and I’m scraping the ***.

So what do you do,
when your mind kills your heart?
When you’re so overwhelmed,
you don’t know where to start.

If you should find answers,
then please let me know.
Until then I’ll keep in the hurt,
and try to not let it show.
Brad post Sep 28
This ****’s been going on,
for far too long.
It took me talking to him,
to know something was wrong.

It started as a whisper,
so quiet and weak.
I could force it to silence,
without having to speak.

Then my mind and body,
started to waste.
He started to gorge,
and fell in love with the taste.

My slow decline,
was the foothold he needed,
and his tendrils grew,
where I didn’t know they were seeded.

His control grew bigger,
till it shadowed my mind,
and the whiskey fog I was in,
had simply turned me blind.

Then one day I was through,
enough was enough.
I was going to take control,
I had to be tough.

That was the first time,
that he spoke to me,
and that “no” was enough,
to finally make me see.

I tried and I tried,
again and again,
crying through his laughter,
trying to pour him out through a pen.

He was poison,
like a cancer you see.
He was killing us both,
but everyone just blamed me.

Then one day I realized,
I couldn’t get rid of that voice.
To do that meant death,
and that wasn’t a choice.

He’s a part of me,
but disconnected too.
A bystander to the hell,
that he’s putting me through.

Now every day is a struggle,
to quiet his voice.
Trying to convince myself,
that I do have a choice.

So he’s here to stay,
the monkey on my back.
The ominous stranger,
who calls himself, Jack.
We all have that voice, some are stronger than others.
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