I'm addicted to
The drug called happiness.
A simple addict
Of fantastic phantasm fantasy,
In ecstacy.

I always heard that things peak.
What goes up, must come down.
Am I at my come down?

Why can I not forever feel
This happiness?
Will I wade in the shallow
Ocean soon?

Can things just only keep getting better?
These days I glow
In a radiant beauty
And I have never seen myself
Glow before.

Is this feeling just the now?
As I become a ***** to the
Good feelings that my life
Is suddenly bringing me.

I like to think that my life
Is paying me back with good luck
For all the times I missed a four leaf clover
Growing in a meadow
Or didn't glance at a shooting star long enough to wish.
And this time I don't need a good luck charm,
Or a wish.

But now I come to.
Is this my peak?
Is this as good as things will ever be?
What we built upon could fall,
And I grow afraid of tomorrow.

2018 brought me growth,
2019 brought me happiness and stability.
Oh, curse this new year bringing me fear
Because chasing after a stillborn dream
Is beyond my ability.

This dream, I never want to wake up.
There is a person I love.
A family I built.
An internal balance I perfected.

Would life be cruel to rip that away?
But worst of all,
I could never prepare for that
Because that's how life is.

I became happy gradually,
Without noticing the changes
Because becoming stable and feeling loved
Became my normal.
So, will I never notice what I will lose?
Can that hurt me more than noticing at all
And trying to stop it
At a demise?

Simple fights,
Sleepless nights.
I can make her hate me,
I got that in my sights.
So,
What is right?

I'm here, on a plane,
Miles away-
Ready to cry because
I can't be better.

I disappoint
And disjoint
As a way to
Disrupt, destroy, destruct
Our happiness.

This is the suicide
Of a good time.
My emotionality
And neuroticism
Is the cyanide.
Swallow down the pill;
Drink, drink, drink-
Don't spill.

Pull apart me,
Limb from limb
Because the pain I hold
In my heart each day
Is worse than what any
Torturer could have in store.

My emotions haunt me,
Scare me,
Caress me,
Love me,
**** me over,
And **** me.

I am the one who kicks
Myself when I'm down.
I have an internal battle,
A war
Of the mind,
Heart,
Soul-
Psychology.

I am a bit imbalanced.
I make people hate me.
I hold this in everyday,
This simple fact-
Something that can make me blow up.

I am the nuke
And this time, I explode
Like a kamikaze,
I take myself.

Sadness overwhelming.

I am cold
With a stone body.
Rugged,
As a rock.
I am a sculpture of
Myself.
Blank face,
Carved slate.
I am hard to love,
With no embrace
From this faceless rock.
Tuned to stone,
And a heart so cold.
You flail your arms
And wrap them around me
And wail.
Because, I failed
To maintain my humanity.
As the worst body to love,
I become a rock,
And stay stone faced
And hard to love.
As a sculpture I stand,
Not as a human,
But some terrible stone creature.
And I wear away,
Erosion.

Who am I.
Someone
Who attempted suicide
Maybe took one too many psychedelic drugs.
My brain is ****** up now
I lost my smarts.
I once was intelligent.
Now I'm nothing.
A depressed,
Obsessed mess -
Straying from the path
I originally had.

I once was straight edge,
And took my life seriously
With a goal,
With a proactive mind.
Now I try
To be fine.
Turmoil comes in many ways
But it's different when among the days
You think about how you
Could die.

Maybe I still want to.
Who am I.

I forgot.

I don't even know how to write poetry anymore.

Goodbye.

I got these
Stale wounds,
Cut open -
Mispoken -
Blood soaked in,
Subsume.
I don't feel
What's real
Again.
Slip by and just pass
Like a sail with no mast,
And you're trying to get past
The past
Because it hurts more
Now in the present.
My brain is more dead
And insane
To refrain
And reframe -
Just to end up more poor than a peasant.
I pleased myself,
Released myself.
Just lost the keys
To free myself.
Chained up,
And bound
By my beautiful face
That only keeps its frown.
And I want to die now
Here's a ******* countdown
To a new year,
Play it by my good ear
Sit here,
Right there,
And contemplate
The insurgent hate
I have for myself.
This is the depressive lock down.
Lose it.

Witch hazel memories
Flood my conscious -
And I wish
I couldn't feel,
And be numb
Like astringent.

They say
Depression and obsession
Don't mix well.
I'll see that day.
In a way,
We scar up our hearts
Like cutting veins
And talking insane.
An insanity calamity
Of the mind.
But I sighed,
And said
"I'm fine"
Instead.
"Today was a great day"
But I'll soon be dead -
I swear -
With poison in my head.