Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
the dead bird Sep 2021
What am I supposed to do with all
Of this
Unhinged
Passion —
Okay, calling it passion is a stretch.
It’s boiling ******* anger
For my own existence.

What am I to do?
Share it? With whom?
Who might appreciate?
Even if they do,
I’d probably be dissatisfied
About something.
I’m sure of it.

Why am I so
Existentially dissatisfied?
At what point will I think
Anything is enough,
Or worthy of my
Approval?

Does it need to destroy me in order for me to respect it?

I’m making myself sound like a *****.
Really, I am
But a self aware one.
Like, I realize that I’m a pretentious *******
And I hate myself for it,
So that you don’t have to.

Why do I long for attention,
When I am so
Disgusted
By it

Just pathetic,
It’s like I think
the window which I’m looking out of
Makes me better
Than those who have a different view.

Sometimes I wish I was stupid so that I wouldn’t think I was better than other people.
Or at least stupid enough
To ignore my own hypocrisy.
Why the ****
does it always come back to
That story about
The flowers for that dead ******* rat

Is it too late to get a lobotomy?
I hate myself for hating myself for hating other people. Also yes I did really want to be a nihilist when I first studied Camus & the three schools ****. I settled on exestential nihilism for awhile. now, me and the Absurd sit and smoke blunts together and laugh at my pathetic existence
the dead bird Jun 2021
“You look like my daughter”
The man says to me,
As he’s ordering me a drink
Looking my body up and down.

I laugh,
Look away,
Try to pretend he didn’t say that

Oh but don’t worry
He made it a point
to mention
T H R E E
              M O R E
                           T I M E S
how my body
Resembled his daughters,
“Tight, perfect, the right kind”

Oof.
Idk y’all
Idk that I can do this.
I walk away
I dont make that money.
Even though I know **** well,
I fit his ****** up fantasies.

Not to mention I’m triggered,
Thanks to my childhood trauma,
By all of this conversation,
But it doesn’t really matter
Anyways.
Just a product of my environment
Just an object to fill
The desires
Of hungry eyes.

**** it
Let me be
An empty *** doll.
Just take my intelligence with you please.
Flowers for Algernon ,
And I’m wilting.
I’m too aware of my place in society.

Why strive to peruse my education,
When I know no one will hire me
Because of my background?
Why stay sober,
When my ******* flashbacks
Only stop when I’m drunk?

I hate my life.
No I don’t like the job I have;
But this **** ain’t easy.

And none of it is my fault.
It isn’t.
None of my trauma is my fault.

At least At the end of the day
I have the comfort
Of knowing,
That I matter just as little as the next person.
My life,
In all of its glory,
matters just as little as john f Kennedy’s
I am nothing
And we are nothing

Our suffering is eternal
the dead bird Jun 2020
If I’m trying to fix myself,
logically speaking,
I should start at the source of the problem.

If hell is just a state of mind,
then demons are my open wounds,
and the devil lives inside certain humans.
He’s usually disguised with a smile,
the perfect words you want to hear,
bearing a trojan horse that looks like trust.

The first time I met the devil,
I was eighteen.
The physical wounds he caused healed fast,
leaving only one small scar.
It was his emotional scythe
that tortured my soul;
with slices that cut deep
and left me wounded.

My demons are the still-gaping wounds
that I thought bandaids could fix.
But I’ve found that substances
don’t silence the demon’s hellish screams -
they only drown out the noise
for a little while.

In order to free myself of these demons,
to escape my own hell,
to fix myself,
to change,
to heal;
I must peel off the bandages,
treat the infection at its source,
and let my wounds breathe.

I guess that means addressing
the emotional pain
that he carved into my soul.
I must process the pain I still feel,
the feelings of shame,
guilt,
worthlessness,
and dehumanization.

Real talk though?

Religious references aside,
fifteen years isn’t enough.
I don’t think any prison sentence -
no matter the length -
could account for the irreversible damage
he caused not only to me,
but also countless other young women and girls.

He doesn’t deserve my words.
But they are not for him.
These words are for me.
legit ramblings, on a mini vacation with my girlfriend  and  he still finds a way to haunt me. I won’t let his poison taint me forever
the dead bird Apr 2019
my worst habit is my tendency
to binge
on absolutely everything.

“moderation”
you remind me, constantly.
to that I say,
my precious
as I consume
   consume
        consume


i don’t like my sober mind.
i feel too much like
my mother,
whose worries eat her alive.

inebriation gives me
the power
to not give a ****!
something i lack when in sober thought.

****,
it’s like anything and everything
causes a stress and worry
i just want to be away from it
for a little while.

that little awhile
being every day
at every chance i get.
do you think addiction is a mental illness? asking for a “friend”
the dead bird Mar 2019
Officially,
the calendar now marks
that it's been over a year
since I've last had your taste.
I should be proud
of myself
- and I am -
but more so, I am
surrounded by frustration.

I cannot write code like I used to.
Neither can I
find the words to write poetry
like I used to.
With you,
my creativity and passion
came effortlessly:
like turning on a tap
from which the essence
flowed,
whenever I took
my next hit.

Now, it's been
over a year from you;
and the passion from which
you robbed me of
is starting to come back.

I refuse to let
my memories of you
taint
that which I love.

My subdued passion
for programming,
video games,
and literature
shall not be dull forever.

With every new moon
that passes,
the fog in the mirror
continues to fade,
as my reflection
becomes clear.

And with it,
I feel (more than anything)
the ambition
that which you stole from me
ever-so-slowly return.

I so desperately
searched for my soul
while in your grasp.
Clouded by your embrace,
I lost myself,
and saw only the image you painted
in the mirror.

In time I will find myself again.
Fully.

One year clean
is something to celebrate.
been clean from speed a year and haven't wrote anything because it's hard for me to come up with anything of remote quality without the drug. at least that's what it feels like on my end. ah well, one year clean celebration poem.
Dec 2017 · 884
REASONS WHY I HATE MYSELF
the dead bird Dec 2017
I wake
from dreams of you
like ocean waves
that crash
upon the shore

forgetting
a second
before I remember
you're
no longer mine

I don't want
to be

awake

maybe,
if I
keep my eyes shut
these waves will swallow me again,
drowning me
in memories of you

but memories
become regrets -
and my mind is a hurricane
with rain like
a storm of thoughts

thoughts like

how
this could have
been avoided
if I didn't let my emotions
play me
like a puppet

how now
our days together
will be replaced
with somebody else
and the sun will set
all the same

no longer
a person
in your life
but a story
you tell

I'm
trying to say,
I’m sorry and
you're right
it’s my fault
I was wrong

I'll be here
when you want me
i didn't mean what i said when i was drunk and i'm sorry i acted the way i did towards you
Nov 2017 · 576
CYCLES
the dead bird Nov 2017
Clouds like smoke fill the sky,
Pearl white ash becomes grime.
Sleep beckons me with its embrace,
Dreaming to strangle me
Under blankets of black.

Time devours feeling,
But death consumes everything.
I am the dirt underneath your nails,
Leave me to rot.
I want to decay with you.

If you know the words, sing along:
Indifferent hands control us all.
Chaos, destruction, escape -
As it begins,
So it will end.
Jul 2017 · 727
foreign
the dead bird Jul 2017
I make jokes about how I starve myself because I am starving myself

if I didn't make it look
this good,
someone might think
there's something wrong
this doesn't count
Jul 2017 · 1.7k
pretty little hate machine
the dead bird Jul 2017
My desire:

When you danced your way
into my life,
you brought with you
a light;
one which illuminated
the scene around it.

A world -
which was previously
burdened
by imperative darkness -
now exposed to my sight.

Your magnificence
consequently
revealed
the beauty in my own world:
one which I had forgotten,
one which I had
closed the doors upon -
deeming happiness
impossible to find.

I suppose,
what I'm trying to say
is:
you are the light of my life.
But somehow,
those words don't serve justice.

None of my words
serve
justice
to how I feel for you.

Those
nights,
the
music,
mood,
dancing -

are what
I imagine
my heaven
would be.

We could be anywhere -
I could have
nothing
to my name
except black lipstick
and a tenacious heart -
whenever
I'm with you,
I know it's the only place
I need to be.

I wish I could tell you
how you take me
out of this world -
but habitually,
I find it
difficult
to communicate
the music of my heart.

Perhaps,
it's because
alongside
my poor choice of words
and
jumbling of sentences;

whenever
I look into your eyes
the only thought
I can be sure of,
is that
you have the most beautiful face
I have ever seen.

And when you smile -
forget anything
I had on my mind -
your smile
is the kind you read about;
one that makes people
want to do right,
one that
melts away worry;
one
that makes people
fall in love.
a little too intense but ya digggg
Jun 2017 · 685
if I could say how I feel
the dead bird Jun 2017
the sun rises
above me:

a display of vibrance;
colors red,
pink,
and orange
sink into the sky,
pouring into it
a new day

my world
changes before me,
from one of darkness
into a world
spilling with light

a performance --
a transformation --
fleeting, yet
always
a humbling experience;
one as wondrous
as it is
consistent


the sun rises
above me,

and

honestly?
I feel irritated
that it had to come up
at all


I think if heaven is real,
then undoubtedly,
mine
would be our night
if it never had to end.

or,
it could be
any night.
honestly,
it's anywhere with you.


fruitless?

maybe,
if it were lust
calling me to you

it's like,
I could care less
about the fruit -
I just wanna be with the tree
they grow from,
maaan
Sep 2016 · 2.1k
TALES FROM THE EMPTY SHELL
the dead bird Sep 2016
currently wishing
my uber driver would shut the **** up for half a minute

I just want to listen
to Joy Division
in silence;
with nothing
but the pressure
of my inescapable apathy

please shut up;
I really don't care
that two children were hit
by a tractor trailer this morning,
only a bit jealous.
I never thought I'd meet
someone as lonely as me,
but the continual conversation
that you regurgitate
proves otherwise.
I wish I could be
taken out
by a tractor trailer -
at this point,
I'll settle for anything.

uh-huh
yeah
really
no way

I feel as though this trip
is a metaphor
for my waking life:
just a blur of scenery
flying by,
while a stranger
makes noises at my depression -
and I just,
uh-huh
yeah
really
no way

I hate how
I hate everything

hate
how lonely I am

how regardless
of who
surrounds me,
        comforts me,
                loves me,
I still feel like I'm alone

welcome to the void
Aug 2016 · 1.3k
FUCKING HELL I'M A BAD JOKE
the dead bird Aug 2016
hatred
for every human
that's ever existed
how pathetic,
naive,
stupid

they fill me
with disgust
and pity

isn't it ironic
how my
pretentious
view of humanity
is matched
by my inherent desire
for their company?

making me the
most pathetic
most disgusting
most pitiful
one of all

I'm ******* lonely as hell dude

can't stand to be around anyone
but even more,
can't bear to be alone with my mind

intimacy and conversation -
regardless of quality -
serve as a distraction
from the feeling of dread
which won't leave me
ever

in my solitude
it feels like
something is laughing
at my existence:

a cockroach
with a superiority complex
pretending to be dignified
like it won't be crushed
immediately
when stepped on

SOMETHING OR SOMEONE
PLEASE
END MY LIFE
at least depression brings self awareness!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
the dead bird Aug 2016
my day -
a chaotic
downward spiral
angry, entitled faces
glare at me
expect me to juggle
thirteen flaming tennis *****
while running
full speed ahead
to their every
beck and call

like,
when your computer
gets a virus
and fifty-five million tabs pop up
careening out of control
giving no chance
to even close out of one -
a clusterfuck of stress

when I finally get
my ten-minute break
I sit outside -
alone -
can't deal with
one more ******* person
just let me
smoke my cigarette
calm my anxiety
***** my head back in
in solitude
before walking back
through the gates of hell

don't smoke those,
you're killing yourself.

no
*******
way
I
had
no
idea

do I know you?
you're certainly not family,
nor a friend
definitely not
someone who gives a ****
about my health
or well-being

what if I want
to **** myself?
what if that's
my goal?
who ARE you
to tell me what to do?

maybe,
you think your input
will resonate inside of me
*******, he's right
put down the pack
for good

maybe,
you just want to feel
like you're a good person
boost your ego
thinking
you did something nice
helped
in one way

all you do
is make me want another
leave me the **** alone
a cigarette
is not an open invitation
to talk about my health
to comment on my life
****
off
I don't care what you say
your words
aren't important to me
just like I
am not important to you

mind your own
*******
business
angry, mean, cranky, what-*******-ever people need to learn to keep their mouths shut
Jul 2016 · 1.4k
BRUTALLY HONEST
the dead bird Jul 2016
I crave your presence

the energy
which follows you like a shadow
electrifies my body
magnifies
my awareness
which is always
fine tuned
to you

you are
my personal drug
the high
you give me
is unlike any other
excites my body
and my mind
putting me in a daze
so that I
stumble
over words
embarrass myself

you never fail
to leave me
with a colorful
imagination

one filled
with thoughts
of you and me

passion
and lust
paint the scenes
in my mind
tempting me
to tell you to
get to know
me
let your hands
be your eyes
and see
how my body feels
exploring
new territory
relieving
tension

I am hungry
for you
but I wonder
if I ever do
get to have you
will it
spoil
my appetite?

will I
grow accustomed
to your taste
after a few bites
and become bored
discard you
like a half eaten
apple
no longer
hungry
at all?

alas,
I crave you still
you wave hello

and in return
the smile I give you
screams all of this
Jun 2016 · 1.2k
ONE AND THE SAME
the dead bird Jun 2016
I wake
from dreams of you
like waves of the ocean
that break
upon the shore

a persistent feeling
of dissatisfaction
hovers quietly
above me
making no sound
but

always falling
always dripping
always coating me
so that every damp
footstep
I leave behind
reminds me
it will never leave me alone

the wetness
from my raincloud
and
the water
from the ocean of my dreams
become
the same liquid
that permeates my being

interchangeable
undistinguishable
from one another

tell me -
why do I dream
of disappointment?
Jun 2016 · 959
SMILE FOR THE BLADE
the dead bird Jun 2016
take a scalpel
to my emotionless face
cut me a new smile
an open wound that stings

razorblade grin

and as the blood
stains my skin
and
soaks
my work clothes

maybe
I'll believe
that I'm real
maybe
it will show me
how to feel

carve me a face
to make me
human

whatever
you want me
to be
as long
as it's not me
Jun 2016 · 3.1k
THE ISOLATED EXTROVERT
the dead bird Jun 2016
outgoing?
I'd say outspoken
never been arbitrary
or overbearing-
just vocal

my passion runs deep
and pours out
excited
overflowing
when it finds
another soul to share it with

the energy
others direct towards me
I absorb
and like a mirror
reflect it back towards them

the energy
that rests inside me
is like water
waiting
for an outside force
to heat me up
excite
my molecules
or
to cool me down
mellow
the chaos inside me
making me stable
making me solid

if being an extrovert
makes me
popular and
domineering,
a fun-loving,
party animal
who lacks introspection,

tell me why
I always choose
to isolate myself

why
my few friends I do have
I keep at a distance
except when I force myself
to enjoy their company
once or twice
in a year

why
I am easily talked over
my words drowned out
ignored
like background noise
my input
apbrubtly halted
as others drive over it
making it no more
than the dust
their tires kick up
why I let them
talk over me
rather than raise my voice

why I would rather
read in solitude
than go to a party
or play a video game
rather than socialize
why
would I choose
to ponder existence
over
existing with others

extroverted
means I get my energy
from external events
rather than the internal

I am not a synonym
for gregariousness
clearly venting angrilly through prose
May 2016 · 1.1k
GOOD, HOW ARE YOU?
the dead bird May 2016
if everyone answered
honestly
when they were asked
how are you
I wonder
how many lives would be saved

how many friendships made

as for me,
I'm depressed
exhausted
anxious
crashing
but still smiling

and one of a million

though
considering
I'm asked this question
at least two hundred times
during work
maybe it's better
we aren't honest
rhetorical question
generic response
maybe it's better
we hide
May 2016 · 2.0k
THE SEDUCTIVE SMOKE
the dead bird May 2016
breathe me in
my bittersweet taste
encompasses your tongue
the memory
of me
lingers
on your tastebuds
crave me again
crave me always

breathe me out
exhale
as I pleasure myself
I arch my back
inside the curls
of your white smoke clouds
enchanting you
to have more of me
begging you
to play with me again

I am the best
you'll ever have
I'll send waves
of *******
throughout your being
more than anyone else
without me
the *** will always be a bore
I am your delight
the tighter my hold on you
the more you need it

I'll never leave you
my body is yours
you couldn't get away
even
if you wanted to
May 2016 · 1.4k
MONDAY MORNING
the dead bird May 2016
my tears
remind me
I am real

my emotions
have frostbite
exposed to
such coldness
they shut off
so I feel nothing at all

then misery comes around
and warms them up
just enough
so I can
feel
the true pain I am in

how critical my state is

it's ironic
how major depression
can make me
oblivious
to how depressed
I really am

like floating inside
a storm cloud
living in gray
experiencing
nothing
but blandness

until I fall
just a small amount
and realize
I'm inside
a torrential downpour
big enough
to sink Noah and his ark
big enough
to swallow this planet whole
Apr 2016 · 1.8k
A TRIBUTE TO NINE INCH NAILS
the dead bird Apr 2016
everyday is exactly the same
there is no love here
and there is no pain*

every single day
consists of only
gray
though my sight
is not colorblind
I exist
in a monochromatic world

at first
when I discovered
my true self
hiding
in my shadow
I found I was
drowning
in the deepest sea
of dark blue misery

anchors of shame
sunk me
to the depths
unable to pull myself
back up
my soul died while submerged
and since then
this sunken vessel
has been empty

sea of sadness
I am
one with you
the pressure
is no longer
overwhelming
it has become
unnoticeable
as with
all else

no joy
no sunshine
can touch this
void
myself
immune to sadness
immune to all
the colors of emotion

please make me real
I just want to feel
the dead bird Apr 2016
you turn me
into someone
I am not-
but-
the only time I am myself
is with you.

you are the sunshine:
with a small taste
I feel
radiant,
effortless,
full.
with too much,
I get burnt.

like a moth
to a light-bulb;
I seek you.
I will fry myself-
I will burn-
just to feel your warmth.

the hot sunshine
in the desert
forms
a mirage,
an oasis,
a luscious stream of water
to quench
my endless thirst.

when I am close enough
to reach it,
I realize there was
nothing.
all along-
my paradise-
nothing
but the hot,
dry sunshine
and my
never-fulfilled desire.

engulf my planet,
fatal fireball,
disguised as an
angel from afar;
I want my skin to melt
in your
blistering light,
like a candlestick.
I want to
melt into a puddle
of who I once was.

I don't know how to live without you.
Apr 2016 · 892
DREAM INTERPRETATIONS
the dead bird Apr 2016
in my dream last night
my favorite poet
Sam Pink
wrote a list of reasons
why I ****
and why
he hates me

reading it
was probably the coolest thing
that's happened to me
and it wasn't even real

I've been saying
my depression has been
getting better
but has it?

does it matter?

does anything matter?
(nope)

why do I care
about my emotional health
when everything
that occurs to me
has no value nor importance

the only impact
I will ever have
will be
to other people
other
mortal sacks of flesh
whose lives
are equally as meaningless
as my own

all of my words
and thoughts
and lack of emotion
exist for less than a nanosecond
in the entirety
of the universe

I'll just continue
distracting myself
from humanities
inevitable fragility

each human life
each of our
manifestations of consciousness
are as irrelevant
as a grain of sand-
tiny
bland
and irritating

together we form
a beach
the kind that nobody wants
to spend a day at
scattered with trash
and a pungent smell

bury your head in the sand
and ignore reality

write me a list of reasons
why my existence is pathetic
I will agree and nod along

everything that is in myself
is inside everyone else

death is inevitable
so get used to it
why do people act like they are better than other people when we all end up dead anyways their bodies will rot and decompose just like mine and yours and everything else that lives
the dead bird Apr 2016
I am the ocean-
from an objective glance
one might say
I am predictable
my tides
my moods
are just a reaction
caused by
my moon of emotion

I inch closer to you
then pull away
the moon is my master
and I am but a puppet
to her

wade in my shallow waters
before venturing further

for your own safety
study me first
before exploring my depth

I have swallowed innocent people
whole
when they did not
know what to expect
their bodies will always rise
but I have drowned their souls
in my darkness

not something I am proud of
but they
should have known
what they were getting into

inside me there lives
demons disguised as sharks
lurking
until you show your
vulnerability
once they smell it
they will hunt you down
and abuse you
for their own advantage

but when you get to know
my secrets
my waters
my soul
I promise there is
beauty
in the underwater foliage
I can show you sights
you have never seen
as long
as you remember
when to pull up for air

just bring a life vest
and don't say
I never warned you
not
to swim too deep
Apr 2016 · 778
EAT ME ALIVE
the dead bird Apr 2016
caress me with your words
they are honey
that drips over
all of my existence
coating me
turning me into something
more sweet

I am tastier
when dipped
in your sugar
savor me
devour me

but often
you enjoy me
raw
Apr 2016 · 7.6k
CRITICAL THINKING
the dead bird Apr 2016
critical thinking
as you call it;

that which
I seem to lack.
need to
improve
upon.
and I agree in ways.

you said,
it is observing
the situation,
the pieces,
I have at hand,
and deducing
the best possible way
in my knowledge
to make them
fit together.

sounds
quite simple -
common sense.

simple,
if my mind
ran as smoothly as your own.
a trait of yours
I admire greatly.
a trait of others
I am envious of.

but critical thinking
is different when
my mode of
thinking
is not the same

I do not see
my surroundings;
my life,
my reality,
as cogs and gears
that progress
this existence.

I admire
the way you,
and others
pick up on the
little
small
hidden artifacts
that allow yourself
to discover
the best
possible way
to proceed.

if I were to say,
you noticed
the overlooked
and finer details,
I would say
I notice-
no-
I experience awareness
of it's entirety.
how it feels
to me
and how I feel
about it.

if our
individual
thought processes
were placed
in an ever changing river,
whose currents
vary
and are unpredictable?
yours
would be
picking up the driftwood
the sticks,
and objects in grasp.

and as the current carries it,
it would be constructing
a raft
to stay afloat:
safe
and
in the most
comfortable way,
so it could eventually
construct
something suitable
and sturdy
to rest upon,
and relax with content,
while enjoying
the splashes
and warm sunlight
from a safe spot.

instead of
deducing the situation
as yours did,
my thought process
would drift along
the same river,
letting the current
take it under -
if that is where
it felt like going.
finding logs
and debris
to hang on to
when the current
became too much
and it needed a break.

yours may be
high and dry,
but mine has felt
the pebbles
along the bottom
of this river -
the depth and pressure
almost frightening,
but the experience
in itself
always beautiful.
mine floats upon it's back,
like an otter,
enjoying the sunlight
as yours does,
experiencing
this journey through
the rivers path.

and maybe,
if the current gets rough,
if mine is struggling,
it will find the hand
of yours
lifting it up
to keep it safe
until the rocky waters
have passed.

I experience
as I feel,
which may not
be the best approach
all of the time.

but with this,
I am able to
feel
what I believe
is the best choice,
based
on my experience
of the whole.

you make me
feel
and want to
try
new ways of thinking,
new ways
that may help.
you are always pushing
pushing me
to do more
to be more;

which is just one
of the many reasons
why I love you.
umm idk I kinda started writing and then went with it!
Apr 2016 · 2.1k
SHADOW PLAY
the dead bird Apr 2016
the shadows of others
which maliciously
dance
upon the walls
point and laugh
at my human body
that sits in my room
watching

they use their
shadows
fragments of their
true self
to shame and degrade
this person
my self
because I do not hide
my flaws
in darkness

the teasing
shades of human
criticize and belittle
myself and
the other few
who openly exist
as exactly
who we are

these shadows
fueled by
fear
spite
negativity
make every observation
of exposed flaws
I can only imagine
that the humans
who are casting these
shadows of hate
to be
biting their nails
and looking away
as their
shadow
becomes them

while I was
openly
exposing my true form
I began to hate
that of who I am
taking the shadows critique
to heart
when they are too weak
to expose
who they truly are

their shadows
came for me-
as did
shadows
of my own

instead of
hiding myself
becoming
the same as them
using my
insecurities
as fuel for hatred
to burden
upon others
when
the darkness began
to encroach upon me
it fueled
to make me hate myself
instead of others

now,
I have begun
to understand

my own shadow
will no longer
swallow me in darkness
as it is just
my own
embodiment of hatred
a version of myself
that isn't real at all

and the
shadows
from others
who spit fire
to try and burn
my flesh
will fail
as I now know
that if they exposed
their true self
as I have done
everybody
would be able
to see
that the faults
they accuse of
only exist
within them

and I
am just simply
me
I'm so sorry I haven't written in awhile I know none of you care but I finally got a job again and have been so overwhelmed I simply forgot to write. this piece is about others who critique and shame people for traits that they openly accept about theirself.
the dead bird Mar 2016
your hands
tediously twist
and pull
the rubix cube
not to impress
others
with your
speed of completion
but for your own
satisfaction
it will sit on your side table
for years
the mountain
you will never climb

before
your older brother
gave it to you
he rearranged
the stickers
an impossible puzzle
his prank
forgotten by him
amongst hundreds of others

your arms
scrub painstakingly
to wash away the
dark stain
on your
kitchen floor
which never fails
to catch your gaze

it has become
your routine
to spend an hour
every Sunday
cleaning
the persistent spot

curse it's existence
imagine life
without it
even though
it has become
a safety net for you
the only thing
you can count on
being there for you
when you arrive home

still,
your efforts
never cease

you will never discover
it was a fault
of the painters
a careless flaw
ignored
as they completed
the top coat

it does not matter
how much I try
to heal this
loneliness
or how many
different ways
I try to fill my
emptiness-
it is a bottomless
hole

swallows
everything thrown in
the hunger
is never satisfied
I do not think
it will ever
be full
do not think
I am able to feel whole

but
that doesn't stop me
from trying
Mar 2016 · 801
DARK DREAMS
the dead bird Mar 2016
in my dreams
something is always
chasing me
that something
changes
sometimes
a malicious ghost
sometimes
nothing definitive at all
just something
to run from

I spend most of my
dreams
coming up with plans
to escape
to hide
if I crawl inside the
computer
and become one
with the technology
the lady ghost
will never
find me here

until
she decides
to use
the computer
she always does

if I sneak into
this auditorium
maybe
I can blend in
and whatever
I am running from
will give up

climbing
over rows of unoccupied
seats
think I am
safe
until I look around
surrounded
by amish women
I am like
a bright red button
in a mound of dust

my attempts
always futile
I will
never succeed
never get away
it will
find me every time
but what will?

the dream
changes
as soon
as I am found
my eyes
open
before I can ask
why

five years
dreaming
of constant pursuit
it's no wonder
my
waking life
is filled
with exhaustion

when I dreamt
of an armed man
chasing me
through fields of wild grass
I turned on him
grabbed
the gun
and shot

one
two
three
still trying
to grab me
hundreds
of bullets
pierce his
dreamt up flesh
and he does not stop

I've been told
in these dreams
instead of
running
to ask
what they want
why am I
being pursued

I dare you to try
my dreams are nightmares
if I ease my flight
for a second
the darkness
will consume me
Mar 2016 · 1.6k
AND THE DANDELION WEEPS
the dead bird Mar 2016
the garden holds
an aromarous display
of flowers
sprouts of tulips
with their
caressed petals
bringing life
to the dirt they were
grown from

all planted
with a purpose
someone wanted
to see them bloom
wanted to see all
but the dandelion
the pesky
****

I am the dandelion
plucked
by the child's hands
given a purpose
for I sprouted without one

here, mama
look, I brought you
a flower
I thought it was
just as pretty
as you!

smacked
to the ground
"youre saying
I'm as ugly
as that hideous
****?"

the one
that never goes
away
the one
that shows up
when you want it the least
stealing
your sunshine
stealing
nutrients
from the tulips
and roses

in the garbage
with an old
banana peel
and empty containers
of yourt
I hear the child
cry

I am sorry
to only be a burden
I am sorry
I could not impress
your mother
I am sure I will be
one of many
unsatisfactory
gifts

I did not ask to be here
a mistake
a pest
never appreciated
only causing
trouble

I am the dandelion
the child is me
won't you let me
grow
freely
growl I haven't been writing as much why why why
Mar 2016 · 2.2k
WHAT AM I
the dead bird Mar 2016
the dust
that collects underneath my
bed
flakes of old
skin
are more myself
than I am

the person I was
when I was seven
is not me
nor
the person I was
on my fourteenth birthday
the person I was
yesterday
is not
the person I am
in this moment

the cells
the building blocks
of this body that carries me
are constantly
changing
they die
and entirely new ones
take place

how can I say
I am the same
person
that I was at fourteen
when every particle
of myself
is completely different

what is it that has
kept me the same
person
throughout my regeneration
is it my consciousness
is this my soul

I am a tree
grown from just a seed
every year
my leaves
shrivel up and die
and every year
I grow
brand new ones

it is still the same
tree
because it's trunk
remains the same

I am still the same
me
because my consciousness
remains the same

after a tree
is cut down
it does not disappear
it's trunk
remains

smaller,
yes
but still there
now a stump

if I am still myself
after my body
changes every molecule
of my prior self
this begs the question
will my consciousness
remain
after this body has died

if
I
am not limited
to a specific
chemical makeup-
able to transcend
different bodies-
does that mean
I will transcend
this
life
as well
not that I believe in an afterlife or reincarnation, just a theory I was thinking about
the dead bird Mar 2016
the favorite stuffed animal
from a now-grown child
lies
in a pile of mud
soaked through with rain
after one of the dogs got ahold of it
and forgot
to bring it back inside

the baby bird makes a running
leap
and tries to lift her wings
to surprise her mother
with the gift of flight
before she comes home with dinner
total failure
lying fifteen feet
from her nest
with a broken wing
and a voice thats too small
her mother will never
notice
the baby bird will decompose
and become one
with the earth

the blank journal
which was purchased
over a year ago
lies
collecting dust
under piles of
never-to-be-used school supplies
hopes of confessions
or doodles
or even notes
are lost
as it has been forgotten
no one even
remembers
that it exists at all

everything
is exactly the same
as it's always been
Mar 2016 · 584
HUMANS ARE GROSS
the dead bird Mar 2016
if I told you all of the
horrible things I've done
would you still be nice to me
would anyone

if everyone in the entire world
told me all of the
horrible things they've ever done
would there be a single person
left
that I still liked

are we all just
lying to others
and ourselves
painting on our fake
masks
everyday
careful
yours is peeling off
and I don't like what I see

please **** me
Mar 2016 · 816
HOW IRONIC
the dead bird Mar 2016
the sun
which finally brought an end
to the teeth chattering
winter
the warmth
I feel on my skin
the reminder
that summer comes
again

is blinding
my *******
eyes

seeping through
the window
no matter how many
different ways
I adjust the shades
or how many
sheets
I drape over the window
it still manages
to burst through
it's brightness
the most annoying
pestering
obvious thing

that which gives me life
I curse
and wish didn't exist at all
the dead bird Mar 2016
endless pacing
of these
subaquatic halls
almost catatonic
until I remember
how to think
and then
I cry

I should be
dead

I was dead
free from this
painful
existence
until something -
the WAU -
brought me back
in it's skewed mission
to preserve humanity

the WAU
stitched me
back together
with its gel of life

hardly human
hardly conscious
but conscious enough
to hate what I am
and cry
over my own existence

misery
then
anger
I am half
myself
half WAU
angry
craving to ****
hurt
end
whatever
stumbles across
my path

in my habitual
walks
through these corridoors
I see him

something else
another
who is aware
oh what I wouldn't
give
to have another
sentient creature
to curb my loneliness but-
NO!
STAY AWAY FROM ME!

the WAU
starts talking

**** him
he doesn't want you
to exist
he will
prevent you
from being with me
you need me
we need each other
he wants to end us
to end
life
he must be
extinguished
for the sake of
preserving
humanity

find him
chase him
**** HIM

in my pursuit
of the sentient
diving suit
I recognize
his fear
and my humanity
comes back to me
and I weep

he is
so afraid
of who I am
the Frankenstein
the predator
seeking prey
I cry
because this
is who I am
I cry
because I don't want
to hurt him
I cry
because I am
alive

constantly torn
between animalistic
rage
and the
self aware
misery
of realizing what I am

I want someone
to hold me
and make me feel
human
but
I don't want
any conscious creature
to get near me

for the WAU
is controlling
the strings of this puppet
it is the reason
I exist
it gives me the
sustenance
I need and crave
to keep on
hating my own existence
it will make me
****
anything that crosses my path

I think
and I weep
one of the enemies in the video game SOMA that really stuck with me. wrote it from her perspective. if you haven't played or heard of the game this won't make any sense to you, so ignore it lol
Mar 2016 · 4.7k
MY OWN WORST ENEMY
the dead bird Mar 2016
no one can make me
feel worse about myself
than I already do
if you're gonna insult me
better put
some ******* effort
into it
the dead bird Mar 2016
body and mind
without soul
I search for her

no trail of breadcrumbs
for me to follow
to find her hiding place

no reply
when I call "marco!"
just empty silence

left me cold
like
being broken up with
by having
your calls and messages ignored
cut off from their life
with no reason or answer
as to
"why?"

I search for her
in my writing
in my hobbies
I know our interests
are the same, at least
I have comfort
in that

hoping
she'll show up
on my doorstep
with a smile and a hug
explaining
she just went
on an unexpected trip
but that
she always planned
on coming back to me

to us

how do I live
without her
I am nothing
without her

calling her phone
to no avail
answering machine
turned off
if I could
leave a message after the tone
I would say:

dear soul,
without you
my life is autumn
and I am the
dead leaf
that has fallen
from the tree of you
the breeze carries me
but I have no home
I will be crushed
by a single step
swept up and
incenerated
when I become
a bother

please come home
please give me
a call
let me know
what I did
what I can
do
to be with you again

until then
I'll be looking for you
around every
street corner
I walk in the
daytime
and in every
shadow
the moon casts
upon my bedroom
while I am
lying awake
wondering
how to do this
without you
searching for the souuuul of me but shes gone
the dead bird Mar 2016
what are some of your skills?
besides
hurting those who
love me
I'm exceptionally good at
not
eating
for extended
periods of time
and have
plenty of experience
with avoiding
responsibilities

why do you want to work with us?
so I
can continue
living
while wishing
I were dead?
so I
can have money
to buy
food
I won't eat
games
I won't enjoy
clothes
I'll never wear?
so I can
buy
indie authors
books
and make myself
broke
by supporting their work

why should Gigantic Corporation Inc. hire you?
you shouldn't
I'll be late
frequently
and
probably
slack off
every time
I get the chance
but please
hire me?
I need
money
and something
to do
sleeping
in bed all day
only
anchors
my depression

what's your least favorite part of each day, and why?*
what kind
of ******* question
is this?
is this a joke?
my least favorite part
of each day
is
waking up
going to sleep
and the time
in between

how about
I ask you
a question?
what's the excuse
you tell yourself
every day
to make yourself
feel human?
do you
make
a persona
create
who you are
a fake
personality
formed out of
tv shows
and
books you've read
other people's
traits
that you admire
and think
would make you
admired
by others?
or are you
exactly
who you are?

what's
YOUR
least favorite part
of each day and why?
is it lying
to your wife
when you tell her
that you love her?
is it lying
to your children
telling them
that it will get better?

or is it
getting up in the morning
to go to work
to the same
******
job
that you're stuck in
but you have to
do it
because you have
a family
to support
necessities
to purchase
prostitutes
to buy?

I feel like your questions
are mocking me.
I feel like you're
probably
a pretentious
****

anyways,
I'm looking forward
to working
for your company
I will be
a positive
(-ha!)
and motivated
(-too funny!)
staff member
to bring
to the team
I hope you
will give me
this
opportunity

promise
I won't
let you
down
the dead bird Mar 2016
I just feel like
an empty shell*

those were
the only words I could find
when asked
to speak more
about how I've been
feeling

how can I describe
the way I
feel
when I don't even
feel
real?

an empty
egg shell
split in half
and lying in the trash
whose insides
were fried
to be devoured
by the devil

devil
or
lucifer
or
negativity
or
my own mind

all the same
thing
(being?)

the fragile
discarded
snake skin
leftover from it's owner's
moult-
the snake
is nowhere to be found-
just the shed
old skin
of who it used to be

the remnants
of the caccoon
after
the butterfly
takes it's leave

the box
that your Amazon order
arrived in
nothing left inside,
except packing peanuts

I no longer feel
like a human being
though that statement
implies
I've felt like one
before
(I haven't)

talking to others
makes me feel real
when I'm next to you
I pretend
there's something inside
of this empty
vessel

someone tell me-
what makes me
who I am?
as of right now
I feel like
all I am
is
a sack of flesh

a lump of meat
with the ability
to be aware of it's
self
unimportance
bad decisions

no soul
there's nothing inside
I have
never
felt whole

it's not just a
piece
of me
that is missing
it's the
entire
*******
thing
Mar 2016 · 1.1k
GRAVITY
the dead bird Mar 2016
I am the water
that falls
from your shower head
caressing your body
before
dropping
onto the bathtub floor
I get pulled
towards the drain
and
******
down

I am the ***
hanging on the rack
above
your stove
knock me on accident-
I will
fall
to the ground
breaking the silence
of the night
with the loudest
bang
I will wake up
your entire
household
as I plummit
down

I am the driftwood
floating along
this river
bumping
into rocks
and debris that
the current takes me through
I have reached
the peak of the waterfall
you will hear the roar
as I come
crashing
down

I am the skin that sags
around your *******
as you get older
you
curse me
every time
you look in the mirror
I am the cause
of your insecurity-
where you put the blame
for your marriages failure-
wrinkled
skin
being
pulled
down

I am the ship
with a ruptured
side
my buoyancy
broken
as I start to
tip
towards certain doom
the families and
lives
of the souls aboard me
realize
their fate
and show their true,
human
nature
as we
sink
towards the ocean floor-
as we
sink
down

wouldn't know
life
without it

gravity

bearing it's
pressure
force
attraction
inescapable
******* me
towards her
never leaving
no matter
how much
I beg

always
taking me
down
gravity is depression
Mar 2016 · 637
INSOMNIA? NOT QUITE
the dead bird Mar 2016
you'd think
in the state of mind
that I've been in lately
sleep
would be a relief

nope

guess not
'cause
I've been forcing myself
to stay
awake

two days now

it's not
that I even want
to be
awake

when I am
conscious
my loneliness
and the
weight
of my
empty
soul
are exhausting enough
that I never
want to leave
my bed

yet
I force my eyes open
drink
my eighth cup of tea
strain
my body
and mind
to keep going
without
rest

I don't want
to dream
again

I can never
seem
to recall them
as of late-
however
the feeling
of what they were
their presence
still lingers
after I
wake up

the emotions
within them
randomly
stab my brain
while I am
awake

more often
than not
the leftover
remnants
of my forgotten
dreams
make me feel
worse
than my
waking
feelings do
the dead bird Mar 2016
I used to wish I had
another life

daydream
about living
without the stress of mine
"if only,
life had given me
better cards to play"

now, I'm just envious
of others
minds

it's not
the cards I was dealt
that are the problem-

it's the constant overlooking
of plays
I could have made
continuous mistakes
my own
personal
issues
preventing me
from turning out
on top

used to think
(still kind of do)
that everyone who was
"happy"
were just deceiving themselves

lying
telling theirself
that they were happy
so much so
that they
believed it-
using
distractions
to keep their misery at bay

now I realize
that thought
was quite a bit
of self-projection

how nice it would be
to have passion again
emotion
my outgoing nature

I've been dealing with her for years
which leaves me to wonder-
has my personality
just been
a fabrication
a mask that I've worn
to hide
depressions ugly visage?
have I worn it
so frequently that
I started to recognize it
as my own
reflection?

I don't know who I am anymore
though,
it's not like I ever have

I don't know what life is anymore
I've definitely
never known
what that's been all about

for the past six months,
(year?....)
(two years?...)
(my entire life?...)
I've only had
two states
of emotion-
dark blue
or
gray

dark blue
is when I am inconsolable
with tears
absolute misery
my soul
shattered
into a million pieces

dark blue
is when I have
panic attacks
over how horrible
of a person I am
lying
on my bathroom floor
choking on my own tears
choking on my own breath

gray
is
nothingness
something
horrible could happen to me
a job loss,
a heartbreak,
a loss of a friend
and I will experience
no emotion

like an empty
void
throw whatever the ****
you want in there
I promise you
there will not be any
reaction

gray
with random
and sudden
bursts of blue

not the most
excruciating pain
just the constant
dull
throbbing
of the grayish blue
bruise
that you're always
trying
to cover up

I will
never
go away
upset with myself for not writing for two days
Mar 2016 · 1.4k
PARANORMAL ACTIVITY
the dead bird Mar 2016
loving this **** ghost
who will never be alive
like drinking poison

only your essence
to haunt me every day
never the true thing

I want to feel warmth
not the absence of real love
paranormal dreams
3 haikus
Mar 2016 · 2.1k
EW
the dead bird Mar 2016
EW
men
only want
to have *** with me

that's it

gross
Mar 2016 · 534
FOR FREE
the dead bird Mar 2016
I am the
ugly sofa
on the side of the street,
frumpy
with
stuffing coming out
of my sides

forever damp
from the multiple times
it has rained
in the months
that I've been outside
waiting
for a potential
rescuer
to come
and give me a home

for them to sit on
lay on
have *** on

no
rescuer
to come
only
mold
mold
mold

some kids
decide it would be funny
to drag me
to their backyard

not the living room
I was thinking of
nope

not even
a roof
over my head
just
a place to sit
while they smoke ****
and laugh
and shoot squirrels
and drink beer
and ash their cigarettes on

oh well
what more
can a
moldy
frumpy
discarded
old couch
really hope for
anyways
it's 11:30 and i haven't written anything today
the dead bird Mar 2016
old friend!
kind one,
smart one,
one with humor-
why does your mind
refuse to realize
that you cannot
keep up
with your
addiction
forever?

I am not asking you
to put down
the tinfoil
the pipe
the line
this instant

I know addiction
all too well

when it is in your grasp
when you have
your hand
on the ripe
red apple-
let alone,
your teeth
already sinking in
to the first bite-
it's nearly impossible
to release the
forbidden fruit
and climb down
from this tree

you have tasted
the knowledge
the sweetness
of the
fruit
and you will
crave it
now that you know
the brilliance of it

you are punishing yourself
you are hating yourself
you are destroying yourself
you are killing yourself
just realize
that

I will still love you
I will still be your friend
I will not
however
be around you
in your hazy
daze
after you have eaten
the fruit
of which you know you shouldn't

I promise you this-

if you
step away
from the tree
of sin

life
will begin
to look
different

find yourself
a spot
in the garden
of
life
far, far away
from the foliage
of
temptation

set up
barricades
to protect you
from the
snakes
enticing whispers
and let go

you will suffer
deeply
the first few days
without
your savory fruit
but within the week
you will begin to see
all else
this garden has to offer you

look at the way
the light dances
along the cave walls
from animals
that pass outside!

look at the way
the grass
flows
in the gentle breeze!
can you hear the wind
that is moving it?

there is so much more in life
than your addiction
so
much
more

right now,
it's got it's blinders on you

rip them off
don't let
addiction
ride you around
this garden
of life
telling you
where to go
what actions to make

be
yourself
love
yourself

no judgement
but for that
I ask
no excuses
only honesty

I am not asking you
to put down the drugs
this instant
just for you to realize
that this isn't your life
and that
you truly,
can't continue living like this
feelings.
Mar 2016 · 2.6k
WHAT'S COOKING?
the dead bird Mar 2016
could you please
preheat the oven
to 450°F?

thanks!
now
can you please
shove me in there
and close the door tightly?

I'll probably scream
and flail
but,
ignore that

I need a fire to be lit
under my ***
since I clearly
cannot light one
by myself
'bout my lack of motivation and willpower
the dead bird Feb 2016
we're all born into this river
without knowing how to swim

at the beginning
most have
family
to keep us above
the water-
be our life vest
that keeps us
breathing

as the river's
current
flows and carries us
some have been
taught
or have
learned
how to swim
how to
keep above
water
and are flowing
along
smoothly

others,
like me,
have not had
another to teach
guide
and have not yet
taught ourselves
either

simply
treading water
letting the current
of life
carry my soul
knocking me
pushing me under
with barely
a second
that I come above
to breathe

we are all
in this river
together

when the waters get cold
and my teeth
chatter
friends and
strangers
who have been
in these cold waters
before
keep me warm

when I am
going under
and start
to drown
these same people
lift me up
keep me
above
the water
so I can
breathe

others have
tried to teach me
how to swim
how they
make it through
the currents
but
I will have to
learn the best
way
for myself
to stay above

I am
building a raft
out of the sticks
and
debris
I find floating
that I latch on to
while I am
under

even though
I haven't
learned
how to swim
in this river
still
if I see someone
struggling
to stay above
I will do
all
that is in my power
to keep them
above

hold
on to me
if you are being
pulled down
I will tread water
for the both of us

and when I finish
this raft
I will
use it for myself
and when
it has done
it's job
I will give it
to another
to keep them
above
these deep waters

I'm here for you
in the same way you're here for me
inspired by one of my favorite poet and musicians song "Here For You"
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zrnngUaQZGA
RIP

if you need a friend, shoot me a message
Feb 2016 · 840
RAMBLINGS PART TWO
the dead bird Feb 2016
every year i mature
and age
feels like
a million more realizations
that this life is
depressing
and a waste

maybe depressing
is the wrong word
should use
miserable
agony
despair
like HEY
you there
consciousness
or
soul
whatever you call
the me that is me
before this body
here
latch onto this vessel
this insignificant
organism
in the grand scheme
of life
and
**** IT UP HORRIBLY

wish i had
someone other than myself
to blame
for my own sadness
the tears that fall
are not from another
hurting me
they are from
the me that is me
that is hurting
myself
daily

how else
to live
how else
can i
survive
i do not know
another way
do not think
i could learn

just
depression
with
distractions
distractions
distractions

have another ******
play another game
talk to another person
person
who is more human
than me

i do not feel
human
i do not feel
whole
i feel
like
the bottom
of my cup
of tea
just
remnants
of sadness
and bits
of
the tea leaves
the essence
of myself
only to be
washed
down the drain
not sure
Feb 2016 · 543
QUICKIE
the dead bird Feb 2016
here I am
crying again
at 5am
what a joke
how pathetic
what a waste
of existence
air
time.
better off
dead
Next page