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Q Aug 11
Ive never been a believer
Not in the preternal, supernatural entities
That command our lives.
When chaos errupts
Or the ensuring peace in the eye of the hurricane
The feeling lingers
a want, a need arises.
Suddenly when I look at myself
In the hollowed reflection of the mirrors gaze
I have never prayed more fervently
To a god that I don't believe in
That thinks my life a sin
I pray, postrate and beg,
Til my tongue is full of blisters,
And my lips are cracked
That I could be welcomed into the silence

Give me peace.
Give me death.
Give me quiet.

For it must be hard to love someone
Who loves death more.
Q Aug 2019
As the days heated up and the weather turned warmer..
We found ourselves and discovered the world was ****
I talked you listened..
You made me think of things I never thought of before.
I realized the things family did in the name of love was wrong
We talked about religion, and how things should be yet they weren't
We talked about the future and our lives that were yet to be.
Past loves, heartbreak, and fun were always welcome
You told me I wasn't an ******* or a bad person
Even though you were good cop, and I (all things considered) was bad cop.
For the first time I had a best friend
The kind they write movies about.
The kind in the stories that stick with the protagonist through it all
This novel was a tragedy though.
You ended up going away, through taking your life
And now I'm here - wondering where you went
Why you left
Why I hadn't seen the signs
And why in my own beast of a sadness
thought you were my friend out of pity (and so ignored those texts)
And what could have been had you, had we, continued.
Should I have been worried when you told me about the gun?
Or when you had that sad expression (the same as mine) on your face?
I should have sensed you thought the same morbid thoughts as I
That we may fly away on higher wings to another place to avoid this wretched life.
It's up to me to be good cop now but that was your role wasn't it?
On the day the earth swallowed you and we lay flowers on you, your mom asked why I hadn't talked to you.
She thought my words could've soothed your soul enough that we would have made it through.
The thoughts don't stop. And that particular one acts like a plague on my mind.
One that is shoved into me as a diseased hand of depression grips my skull.
I'm lonely without you.
To my best friend. I miss you.
Q Sep 2018
Tell me there's more than this
Because god I feel so stuck now.
The stars are bright
Then they dim in the night
Gift me with those eyes
Eyes that seek a purpose.
Life shouldn't be being stuck
In the frames of decisions and consciousness.
This isn't it. This isn't what I wanted.
Let me choose my own heaven and hell.
Let me dig my own grave.
Because these ruts and paths to nowhere are all I got.
And is nothing all it's chalked up to be?
You got me wondering
These nights where I stay in the hidden place.
Or those days infinity found us.
Just remember those days you say.
The truth is I can't remember one particular thing about them.
Try to grasp onto any fleeting feelings.
I'm trying to catch a ghost.
Let these feelings wash over me.
Let me bask in my glory
Or frown in my unhappiness
And yet I silently scream.
Unable to express what I feel
Because the people who need to hear are deaf to me
And try as I might nothing can change a heart that's set in stone
Q Jun 2018
Maybe it's where my head's at
But I've been interpreting things weird.
Things are not as they seem.
The thoughts reappear and disappear
Not at will
Not at will
What does that mean?

My head's not where it's at
It's drowning in strange thoughts
Drowning drowning
Draining
then down the rabbit hole
We fall
Q Jun 2018
Dear Damien,
It's been awhile since we met
I'd like to ask how you've been
But all I get is the empty silence
And the stillness of your heart.
I thought we could reconnect
But time is so cruel.
Where have you gone?

We used to play in the summers
Then in the fall of seventeen
Something changed us that would never be the same
We fell apart we broke apart
And even though we're 28
we feel the loss every day.
Dearest Damien
Where have you gone?

— The End —