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mal monson Jul 2019
the stars
heavy with despair,
strangers
brought to rest,

"lower sails
drop anchor"
as children.

the pendulum of a recovering darkness

some hope of rescue
                            maybe

        help
                      maybe                  maybe

                                     maybe-


clatter of anchor chains

the new sick
mal monson Jan 2019
to all those
that ever wonder what it's like
to have delusions
or hallucinations:

touch your nose
or your lips
or your hair
or your ears

touch anything.

you know that your nose is real
right?
you know that whatever you decided to touch
is real.

now
imagine everyone
and i mean everyone
is telling you that it's not.

that your very
very real nose
isn't there.
that it's fake.

some people will scream
others will treat you
like a baby
some will pretend with you
for awhile.
but all of them
their goal will be at first to convince you
that your nose isn't real.
and when that fails
it will be to make you feel so ******
that it doesn't matter
because they don't care about you at all.

and one day
maybe
you'll break.
like me.

you know your nose isn't real.
it couldn't possibly be
it makes no sense
it's stupid
it's just in your head.

but you also know
that it's still there.
that it's still very very real
and you know
it has to be.

so
next time someone
confides in you
or slips up and you see inside

don't say anything negative.
we know.
it hurts.
we just need comfort.
  Jan 2019 mal monson
Meghan
hello,
have you been
well?
i guess not,
for your attention
in my poem
could tell
sorry if this nurse
took so long
in finding
the perfect words
to cure
your soul
first,
strip your clothes
and
stand at the mirror
gaze at the
creature with
the foggy figure
there's
a sinkhole
in those eyes
and a temporary
stitch whenever
you would
smile
the collarbone
which hides,
suffocates from the
blanket of skin
with
sickening lies
it penetrated
and
corrupted your mind
ignored the
fact and just
romanticized
the beast
will **** you,
please
don't find
it ****
the chaos is screaming
later on
you'll be
empty
i know how
a reflection
cries
you lost yourself
you lost you
it's like
having a stray cat
beneath your
tissues
a wandering stranger
sails from
the memories
of truth
overflowing blood
choaked
your dilemmas
too
it mimicked the
fire of hell
in those
shoes
the greatest harm
you'll ever
cause you
but why a
nurse
and not a
doctor?
listen here,
you are your
fighter
the cure and the pain,
which decision
will define?
all i can
say is,
save yourself
from death,
because
it hasn't
deseved you yet
go ahead
and fight your
way to life
I suffered from these issues. And I don't have to wait to heal completely so i could serve my people.
  Jan 2019 mal monson
Ooolywoo
you are the most wonderful thing that has not happened to me yet
You are my sight of relief
But only when I close my eyes can I see you
you're the one I come home to after a long stressing day
but I only get a taste of your warm hug when i lay in bed with my eyes closed
you are my thousand splendid suns, my poetry
who knows how long I’ve loved you
Will I wait a lonely lifetime?
mal monson Jan 2019
i carved your name into my thigh
because you asked me to bleed
and i would not

i carved your name into my thigh
because i wanted to bleed
but you did not

i carved your name into my thigh
and then i left you
or you left me
i dont know

i carved your name into my thigh
but it is gone now
and so are you

i am better for it
but i will never forget
how i carved your name
into my thigh
  Jan 2019 mal monson
Colten Sorrells
ever thought the grass
might be a little greener
because you're not there?
  Jan 2019 mal monson
stranger
but darling
i'm telling myself the same critics
never change anything though
                          °
darling I'm trying to find appellations
for every other meaningless thing
but in my world of correlation
meaningless seems to have a meaning
                           °
i'm a hideous liar
meaning i'm a pretty face selling words of fire
meaning that I deliberate about being shallow or loyal
meaning that i'm dying but I'm quite the survivor
                         °
I'm just as broken down as my whole generation
because we're all the same just deadlier situations
but I'll lie myself through since it's what I'm good at...
you know denying myself isnt that bad
                         °
I've built myself a cursed regime
where my wounded hands reside
because when I decide to hide
no-one will ever find me
                         °
                      
I'm still the same unchanged, colorless and steeped of secrets
still part of the sick game of saving and killing heartstrings
                         °
but in the world where everyone's the same
in a world where you're a complete idiot if you go astray,
in this sick world I'm ready to embrace my "idiocy" _
                           °
with all due respect to the human race
I'd like to go on with my hypocrisy
I'll ask no-one else
If they approve of me_
I am part of this world
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