Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Azrael-Always Jul 2016
Sometimes it's better to bleed
Than from starvation die
Sometimes it's better to feel
Than to admit defeat
Giving up before you even try

Being torn between hope and feeling
Embracing the emptiness of cold hard facts
-However unwilling
To touch the past and hold memories
While desperately hoping
There's a future out there
For the broken toys
So damaged by life and living

It's a struggle
To wake up
To work
To smile
To dream
No matter how tightly held
To close your eyes and not cry

So chew the ashes in your mouth slowly
The terror of living isn't the whole story
There's hope we hear
Behind some mountain
Out there
Beyond today's horizon
Azrael-Always Jul 2016
Nathaniel was a man with a big and warm heart
He believed in people and answered with kindness
It was the work that wore him down
It was the world that wore him thin
It was the world he rejected
When the world was done with him
He was done with all of them

He was the best of us
But with such a big heart inside
He felt an over abundance of compassion
Of others up's and down in life
So of course, he had little time for himself
In putting others first
He ate his pride
Then he ate his life

You still inspire me to this day
With your quiet strength
Kindness always put first
You're genuine nature so frank
Everything about you I can't describe
I just
You were still here
You never heard it
But you were the best of us
I think of you often
A good angel with a sense humor and joy
Pointing out the better alternative
Helping me be a better man
I'm sure I'll see you again
Then we'll laugh
And be our better selves
Hug each other like long lost friends
Azrael-Always Jun 2016
Reasons are clouds
Transient things
More shaped by our apprehension of them
Then external knowledge of them
Over and apart
Independent of ourselves

Clouds are just like clouds
Reasons are ephemeral
Inexorably linked to the perceiver

Reasons are reasons
Perhaps, we can say more about how they are owned
How they are used
Wielded like roses
Given like bouquets
Than what they really are
Azrael-Always Jun 2016
Brother, you're a bastion in this maelstrom of life. It's just so **** hard to keep a cheerful demeanor, replying with a smile, while each day I wear thinner and thinner.

I don't know what I'd do without you to go over our sad tragedies... we laugh together at our capricious destiny, fly the finger back when fate's ******* us over repeatedly.

There's never enough time and meager words to communicate what it's like to be understood and accepted by you.  

As long as we have each other, we can keep quietly thinking that it's them and nothing is really wrong with our day to day lives of silently crying at the unrelenting tragedy of living while we just can't die while the other keeps keeping on.

To my brother and brothers everywhere, who know what it's like to carry your wounded kin everyday, while you yourself are bleeding everywhere but just don't give a **** as long as you can drag them forward another inch.
If you've never found meaning you might find a reason to keep existing
Azrael-Always Jun 2016
Up Or Down
White Or Black
I turned wrong
Instead of right
When I left
Awhile back

The same sun
Shines over head
I don't see the light
But shadows instead  

The weather is warm
With oppressive humidity
I can't feel the heat
But I can feel the cut
Eventhough I can't see it bleed

If happiness is living in the moment
Why does this dread always stalk
Whispering soft notes of melancholy
When even the future has turned its back on me
Azrael-Always Nov 2015
Caught like a lost deer in the headlights I try to stick to the highlights of my sleepless nights
Tossing and turning over and over all of these misshapen memories of the past
Looking so intently in desperation at these fractured pieces of the former present
Reviewing and reassessing and renewing and reopening all these old wounds
Putting them under the microscope and peering down at a thousand times magnified
Like looking closer at these recollections of misplaced memories can somehow get me inside of the past
A little closer to the truth that confuses me
Perhaps I'm trying to skip out of this cycle of eternity
Look at myself and my life from the outside
Try to get some perspective on what little nuts and bolts and frayed wires and cables
Make up the messy piles of what I think is me

So I'm just crying and raging at the past
Fist pumping and knuckles white
Cursing at the wind that tears through these tattered clothes

The truth is I am cold
Alone with my fears
I'm scared of everyone
Scared of myself

I lost my faith in me
I don't believe my own stories anymore
They are half-hearted
Feeble attempts at trying to understand and rationalize things that are so warped it would be a disservice to call them lies
I don't know where I end or where I began
A speck on the ocean looking at the stars
I cling to my little lost boast of hope
Yearning for the farthest shore
Where I have finally run away from myself
Where the inner voices of shame speak no more
Where I walk on the beach
In the light
Azrael-Always Nov 2015
A draft of light was falling through the elms, winter splendor splashed across the landscape in sudden fury
Winter's icy tendril drawn across your back, prickling every pin in every hole with every hair rising on your skin
Breath exhaled slowly like graves exhumed solemnly, all to the plaintive wail and urgent cry of those left behind

It's the stress of life that breaks us, the inevitable tide of rising and working like the sun's little clockwork children, bent, prostrate to another protestant work-ethic shoved down our throats
Being force-fed dreams like a living waterboarding, vomiting and choking but never with enough force to make a difference
Accepting our fate with the dying light of the sunset reflected in our eyes, still hoping for a better day but knowingly resigned to our fate

They tell me the definition of insanity is doing the same thing, over and over again, and hoping for a different result
If that's all the truth we have to hang on to, in the white snow-scape of endless winter, stretching from horizon to horizon without break
Then we are all insane to hope, against hope, that we will change and that life will itself, along with us, bend itself into some comprehensible form of intelligible good

Things will get better today
Call me crazy, but I think it's true
There never has to be enough hope to cling to
There just has to be enough to believe in you
Feel free to comment, fellow weary winter warriors
Next page