Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Psychostasis Jun 1
Thank the Gods you didn't come back from the dead to haunt me again today

I may have actually believed you
I may have actually taken your word again
I may have taken you back and done more damage to myself than there already is

I hope you stay dead
But when a ghost is in love with you, well
Sometimes they just come back for you
Singing love songs and whispering sweet nothings on the wind

It's terrifying, really
Psychostasis May 10
I don't know how to admit to myself that I miss you.
Or that I still love you.
Or that I hate you.

Every time you come to mind, I find something to distract myself
Something to sober my mind
Keep my hands busy
And my thoughts from running rampant

I've reclaimed my life now
And things are going to be better, yes

But I can't help but think about it
Replay it in my brain like an old VHS tape
Study it all, moment for moment

So I'll stay in my shell
And I'll feel my thoughts and feelings in private
And I'll wear my smile and tell myself
And everyone else
That it doesn't hurt
That I'm fine
That I know it's for the best
That I'm doing better without her

But the minute I close that bedroom door
And I steal a couple of minutes for myself
It all begins to crumble.

I think about when it's gonna end a lot these days
Only most of the time I don't know what "it" is
Life
These thoughts
These feelings
This cursed heart on my open and welcoming sleeve has to stop it's drum beat eventually, right?
And once it does I'll be safe. I'll be free.
And I know carving this Great source of power from my body will leave me weak

But I'd rather be weak than be vulnerable
Psychostasis May 9
I killed myself pretty recently.
It wasn't like all the other times.
This time was more embracing.
More comfortable.
More needed.
I managed to shed my old mold before it could cause me any further pain.

It feels like the first breathe of hot desert air after being buried beneath the sand.

It feels like the cool, salty rush of sea water hitting your eyes after free falling for an unknown amount of time.

It feels like the shaky release of heavy chains from my flesh stripped ankles and wrists

It hurts
It hurts so ******* bad
The freedom
The release
The memories
The new possibilities
And the old, dead ones
The fear
The anger

And as I stand in the road, waiting for these emotions to pass
And realize
I am the endless fork in the endless road and the sole nomad walking it
Psychostasis May 6
I was a giant.
One day while running, I spotted you atop a tree.
You were waving. Smiling. Barely able hold the branches from my ground shaking footsteps.

I don't know why but I picked you up, gently. You sat upon my shoulders and told me of your dreams of one day building your own home.

I showed you the place I called home, yet it was too big for you.
So we went back out.
I gathered you stones of love to act as a foundation.
I plucked mighty oaks of trust from the ground to provide lumber for your walls and security.
I cleared a spot for you in my home, and allowed you to construct yours.

And all was well.
One day, you came to me in the night.
You whispered into my ear that my footsteps were too loud for you
That my movements disturbed your peace and shattered your dreams as you slept.
I tried to crawl.
Tried to slide across the ground on my belly.
For a while I just stopped moving.

Without my massive footsteps to crush the forests, and stunt the mountains
The forests began to become an overgrown thick brush
The mountains toppled from their own height and destroyed anything around them

But I sat. Quietly. And watched.

And then it became my breathing.
My heartbeat.
The pounding sound of blood rushing through my veins.
My laughter.

My very existence was too loud. Too disturbing to your peace.
So when your walls started to rot
And you slept through,
I wasn't sure what the correct course of action was.

When the wind began eroding away the foundation, and collapsing the home around you
I was sure you'd awaken

But you didn't

Your home is gone now
Replaced by a pile of rotted wood that was your security and trust from the outside
And stones so heavy, only I can clean them up now.

And I will. Slowly

And once the pile of rubble is gone, and your corpse is located and buried

I will swear the vow that under any circumstance,

I will not let anyone tell me my existence is too powerful for them.

I am a Giant. And I will not falter from running any longer.
To Bri. My final poem to you.
Psychostasis Mar 27
I have poor vision.
Whether that's an ironic twist of life, a coincidence, or a sick joke being played through the universe's morbid sense of humor,
It's a fact.
And in more senses than one.
I've been short sighted since the age of 12
(On my left anyway)

You know how they say other senses sharpen when one takes damage?
It happened.
Not to my hearing, or my good eye
But in more subtle ways.

My sense of deduction blew through the roof.
My instincts when it came to social interaction became so sharp I could tell you what would happen to someone before it happened with 80% accuracy
I could tell people from smart apes almost instantly
I figured out how to use will to forge and shape my future

Then I met someone
Someone that was so amazing
So awe inspiring and raw and real
That I decided I wanted
No
Needed them in my future
And the game started

We started slow
Friends, smoke buddies, bar buddies
We shared secrets, problems, and great memories
And over time I started to fall for you

One day
While hanging out and smoking
And sharing stories and opinions
There was something in the air
I couldn't take my eyes off of you
Every word you spoke sounded like a songbirds call,
Beckoning my soul gently
Grabbing my attention with every word

That's when I realized I was falling for you.

Every time I saw you after that
Pushed me further down the land slide of surpessed romance
I hid my feelings under the heart on my sleeve

Then came the day we had our first kiss
I needed to know if there was anything there.
A spark
A bad feeling
Warmth
Anything.
So I asked if I could kiss you
A simple request to you
But a test of chemistry to me
And what I found was something so welcoming
So warm, and electric and natural
I needed it in my life for as long as I could have it
Then you told me you liked me
And I thought,
"Wow, I lucked out"

Now we're building a future together
Using an unbreakable bond and determination
And watching each other's backs

And now
We've reached a new peak
And as the sun rises and kisses your cheeks every morning,
And the sky reflects your brilliance and beauty with cloudscapes and sunsets
I'll take each day to appreciate how much you've improved my life
I'll take each snuggle session
Each passionate kiss
Each embrace and secret
Each warm night
And I'll cherish these memories until the day we can reminisce
And look back at the road we've traveled
And smile
And cry
And accept every blessing and tragedy
Every mistake and accomplishment
Every dodged bullet and heated discussion

Today I started working on my vows to you.
I'm sure they'll change a lot over the time it takes to present them
But so will we.
And I've never been more excited about change
Than I am when I think about the changes that will come to us,
With you by my side.

Together, we'll look back at our sweet past
Through rose tinted, candy speckled glasses.
To Brianna
Psychostasis Feb 25
I never realized that sobriety would become a personal hell.
I played with fire.
Hell, I laughed at the first spark
And as the days grew shorter I began to wonder
How many sparks till I get a flame?

The fire started and no help came
I lost my hands and eyes to collapsing beams
Yet no help came
I thought, maybe it would be better to let the flames take this home
But the ash and dry wall coated my lungs and nostrils
I screamed for freedom
For release
For a hero of some kind
For water, even a drop to bless my dried and cracked skin
For some ******* air
And as the fire claimed my home
And my body
And eventually, my mind
I grew silent.

The fire is gone now.
I can't feel the sun kiss my skin over the scars that encompass my roasted corpse.
I can't sing. I can't speak.
My screams are a whisper in the wind of a storm already passed.  

And as I recover my footing and senses
I am forced to remember what my own personal hell was
And face it
Psychostasis Oct 2020
Do you tell me you love me with sincerity
Or is it out of guilt
Or is it out of pity

The scariest thing about life is never knowing who's saying those three cursed words
And who genuinely means it
Next page