Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sour Patched Kid Oct 2015
Solemn, somber,
do you ever wonder?
What dreams we've lost
what was the cost?
We gave up all we had.
to our hearts we played faithful
to our hearts that were frail.
I'm smiling but I'm sunken
seldom slumber, awakened
these nightmares, we will shake them.

This haunting will fade,
this everlasting, forbade
from the grand sleep
a phantom, a shade
Whispering, a wick
burning slowly in the dark

Minutes mumbled
seconds slurred
time was timid and blurred
furlongs faded
miles masqueraded
and light years - what's the word?
4,5
Sour Patched Kid Feb 2015
4,5
I fought from fear
fought for it as well.
Quarreled with love,
in hatred I dwelled.
Hiding in smiles,
always laughing last.
One can never
shove too soon; steadfast.
Sour Patched Kid Dec 2018
we both see red,
but my red isn't your red,
and the doctors tell me there is no "red" at all.

i'm counting the days.
my numbers make them numbered,
and i'm just growing number.

i'm calling on the angels
to have faith in something more than memories.
suffering from loss because i remember "me"

the end isn't far.
i can't tell "end" from "END",
but right now i would settle for either.
Sour Patched Kid Feb 2016
Sometimes when my pencil does scurry
Inside me stirs a worry
Is this mine or not? It is, surely.
Finished is the flurry.
Sour Patched Kid Dec 2018
we walk in darkness,
faintly but agile,
dodging puddles
and strangers
whose gaze is uncomfortable

we play games
with ourselves
that we just can't win.
we try to bend the rules
but instead just bend ourselves.

we lose ourselves in art:
the only thing that's real.
because the connections we make
are hurried and fake.
affection is *** appeal.

we inquire and murmur
hoping the other has an answer
to our questions of self doubt.
we jump off the bridges we build,
and hope they burn with our regrets.

we search for souls
replete with love,
knowing **** well
love is an empty concept
to all the broken people
Sour Patched Kid Mar 2018
it doesn't matter the quality of the day
letting it fade out was one of my favorite past times
staying awake doing nothing
until your mind and body slipped into that foggy state
and it felt like seeing the world through
amber sunglasses
Sour Patched Kid Nov 2014
To store
your pain
to savor
it near.
to cradle
it close
to nurture
your fears.
to harbor
the worst
and label
"For later"
To welcome
the sorrow
to be
someone's savior.
Sour Patched Kid Mar 2018
Prayers balance my regrets
All I've forgiven
I've not done yet

Tomorrow looms
Its shadow casts a spell
Where it leads I cannot tell

Love is change
Change is to be lost
Adventure comes with a cost
Sour Patched Kid Jul 2021
winters used to come and go
now all's draped in sheets of snow
trailing wherever the wind blows
clutching tight all of my woes
where's my way with most doors closed
trapped in a maze, seeing ghosts
phantom limbs and phantom whims
can't turn to books, songs, or hymns
switching to a diff'rent dose
hoping, to death, I come close
i can't ever tell friend from foe
guess I'll have to go alone
Sour Patched Kid Sep 2021
To think so differently that you fail to relate to most people
To feel so alienated because your emotional palette is so diverse that it has to be supported with reinforced scaffolding
To be so strange that absolutely no one understands your suffering

Nobody ever told me that in such genius there was such loneliness.
Sour Patched Kid May 2016
His head was caving in
  the way an aluminum can does
  when stomped with your heel.

The crunch cackled through his crumbling cranium.

The irony mocked him like
  a self-deprecating comedian
  who was all too sensitive.

He laughed at himself
(and cried inside)
His smile was a shelf
(on which he held his lies)

If he keeps holding
                                    he
                                          will
                                                  break.
Sour Patched Kid Jun 2016
they give
their blessing
ask if
you're alright
not really
wanting to
know the
answer
because the
answer
might be
just what
they fear
and what
they fear
is that
they don't have the time
to hear
your cries
and not
be sunken
by them
they don't have the time
to lend
their compass
and not
lose their
own way
they don't have the time
to heal
a friend
a lover
a flesh-and-blood
who might
just feel
the same
as them
but
more gray
they have the time
to attend
a funeral
Sour Patched Kid May 2018
i've tried
to find
the light
flick'ring
it leads
again
nowhere
wond'ring
where does
this end
do i
create
the end
the search
to be
happy
is so
pointless
to me
because
it fades
to coal
we work
for cash
to pay
bills and
take pills
matter
is all
that does
matter
but to
me it
doesn't
matter
at all
i have
no faith
in gods
or gems
no joy
in tales
or hymns
there is
no love
to be
felt here
like a
dog I
only
see in
shades of
grey now
no high
is worth
the climb
no words
are worth
the rhyme
i will
soon be
saying
goodbye
for the
last time
Sour Patched Kid Aug 2015
I took your
Favorite food
Favorite artist
Favorite ev'rything

And buried it deep.

I took your
Haunting holdings
Haunting thrashings
Haunting ev'rything

And buried it deep.

I took your
Lasting laughter
Lasting impact
Lasting ev'rything

And buried it deep.

With such depth I dug
With hopes to never repeat
I'm reminded nightly
In dreams and restless sleep.

Like telling words I choke on
A secret, seething, breathes
I gathered all your mem'ries
And
I
buried
you
deep.
Sour Patched Kid Apr 2015
Take a puff
it's just once
finish me
lit quickly

Another
I'll smother
Open lips
closed eyelids
Burning fast
this won't last

Put me out
before you're burnt
put me out
before I turn
Sour Patched Kid Feb 2015
I spilled
my coffee
while it was hot.
I was
cold
and the contrast
was staggering.
It warmed
my
hands and not
my heart. My nerves
were jarred
sparse
they parted.
No one
knew my familiar brew.
No one ever told
me such
genius
came with such
loneliness.
Sour Patched Kid Mar 2018
pick me apart
like one of your spongy, sparkly, buds
put me out
like a cigarette in your
ash tray soul
stir with me your second favorite poison
Regret me the day after
And swear this swine you'll quit
The next Monday you remember
Sour Patched Kid Jun 2016
a celestial calm
entwined with
daylight veins
of
madness
sitting silently
no occupation
but to
wind and wind
my
clockwork motor
madness
just to grin stupidly
as it
waddles
'round the room.
Sour Patched Kid Mar 2018
i am my father's lost cause

to lose something one must first be in possession of it

to possess something one must be able to afford it

how can one afford what one does not know the value of?

how can one afford someone whose values they do not know?
Sour Patched Kid Sep 2021
a hue deepening from the baby blue
of the desperate sky to the midnight
blue of the harrowing ocean floor

i had forgotten what it felt like
to sink into the opaque depths
of despair and drown as my deep
sea monsters watched and laughed

even with my feet touching the
ocean's core, i still can't tell
which way is up
we lie in each other's arms -
our only truth in the world.
you comb your hand through my hair...
you lie to me, saying, "everything will be alright,"
and i believe you every time.

i look forward to nothing more
than bear-hugging you low around your waist,
and you tracing the ridges of my back with your lips
while you death-grip my hand in yours.

we'll dine here and there and everywhere,
looking at each other like we're the only two people left in a world no longer cruel.
and you'll constantly remind me,"i am yours and you are mine."
and once again...

once again... everything will be fine.
Sour Patched Kid Feb 2015
Sometimes I wondered if my heart
fell asleep
the way
my limbs would
when I would put
too much pressure
on them,
its awakening spurring spurns
that punished its daring ascent
Until the pressure had passed and so had time.
Sour Patched Kid Nov 2016
pour your heart out
like the last 'fifth'
you've had too much
where's home from this?
Sour Patched Kid Nov 2016
I am just as evil as you are.
That damming claws at my ev'ry choice,
but steadily I will hold the bar
and 'member my inner sound, my voice.

The call rings. I answer with virtue,
recalling reasons not to hurt you.
You spout your hate and project your pain;
pain - that chorus I will not refrain.

Sometimes I wince and curse the earth
and others I rinse and find rebirth.
Sometimes I lie the dead night awake
to try to burn before daylight breaks.

The saga lives, I'm tired of its tail.
I'm using all my strength to prevail.
The serpent slowly slithers around,
but again I bring the giant down.
Sour Patched Kid Sep 2021
If you would just
Set aside your pride for a few minutes
And do a few clicks or taps to reach me...
I'm only several fingertips away.
Sour Patched Kid Sep 2021
games are played, activities
to pass the time

games are played with hands
and often the mind

games are played, your band
shouldn't knock the rhythm of mine

games were played, your sands
are lost in the depths of time
Sour Patched Kid Jun 2015
How do i fill this void?
Habits die hard, good or bad;
i haven't decided which of those descriptions best fits the habit i held,
the habit we held
together.

It's surprising at best how i've managed
to hold myself together without the adhesive quality that your love provided me.
You were the glue to my broken heart.
Was i the glue to your anything?
can't shake this feeling,
feel like a schoolyard boy again,
unsure of the next step after simply liking you.
i've never felt a want like this.

how can i miss someone i don't even know?
felt nervous for the first time in seven years -
a heart attack away from never being able to love you.
i'll use less tonight if it means seeing you again.

waking from a nightmare into the dream of having you beside me.
i can keep the shades closed because i'll have all the sunshine i need.
i'll keep my heart open because all my love will wake.
what do i have to do to see you every daybreak?

men used to fight wars over women like you.
and i suppose i'd take to arms to hold you in mine.
a.i. generators couldn't better picture 'goddess'.
and maybe... just maybe... they won't better picture 'love'.
Sour Patched Kid Nov 2016
i never drop my bread crumbs
when i sink this far below the skin
how can hell be humid
when naked of its kin?
i'm pawing for the walls
and grasping barely air
never bracing for the fall
i cannot seem to care

this cornerless void i alone exhale
- whatever i heir -
i resonate in the broken bricks,
this cobweb crypt to where
i drudgingly drag all my demons:
my bones - a cage, a lair

you'd reckon i'd learn
this thousandth time
that the undead
be they buried
never will they die

and never do they leave this crypt
- their home was once called mine -
how could they take residence
in all of my goodbyes?
Sour Patched Kid Oct 2015
Kind'ling, eternal comfort
eloped to my beat.
In hers I found my rhythm.
Sour Patched Kid Feb 2017
he writes limericks.
and happy poems.
and even jokes.

i don't think I like him.

so I tracked him down.
used his username
to find his real name
and found his address

i walked up to his front door
on a dreary, Tuesday evening
knocked thrice
just to ask him why.

i asked him why he wrote
limericks, bright poems, and jokes.

"to pretend I'm not sad."
Fictional
Sour Patched Kid Feb 2018
The day has come where I am no longer
looking back at the sunsets behind me,
but to sunrises beyond, in wonder.
A smile ruptures across my face
like pavement fracturing from an earthquake,
and a hearty laugh bursts from my depths
with the pent-up force of a geyser.

And my world is shaken like a snow globe,
redistributing the beauty all around.
Sometimes falling can be delightful  -
like watching a violet and amber dusk.
Beauty always lies in contrast: rise and fall.
The sunrise is where tomorrow holds my lust.
Sour Patched Kid Mar 2018
Relief is not
Too far from here
Tell me I'm not
Destined for years
Wasting my time
In all I've seen
Somehow losing sight
Of what strength means
The black 'mongst white
What must I give
To keep my might
So cheerful but grim
Sour Patched Kid Apr 2018
wait for the best day.

the best day
to
**** yourself
is
your birthday
because your
loved ones
will only be forced to think about
your suicide
once per year

(your birthday comes.

you eat cake and smile.
you drink, dance, and forget you're suicidal.
you wake up the next morning
back in the suicidal mindset
but knowing you have to wait
364 days.

you wait 364 days.)

repeat until death by natural causes
Sour Patched Kid Feb 2017
plumped down in the shrieking worn chair
pulled my hunk of life-****
  out of my pocket
brewed up a ****** poem with my thumbs

i've traded informative book reading for
  'dank memes'

i need to get lost in a dank library for a
  while
away from all the life-****
Sour Patched Kid Mar 2018
I wrote
Better poetry
When you were
Chewing on my heart
Like a dog chews a bone
Sharpening its teeth
Sour Patched Kid Feb 2015
I sat there wilting with your heart in my hands,
And it was symbolic at best the way my tears fell and mixed with the blood, a tye-dye of pain and exasperation.
Each tear fell heavier than the last as if the pain grew both inside and out.
Crying was supposed to help.
I thought it was supposed to be shedding
the pain of failure, loss, and rejection.
Instead, each drop just weaved its way into the pool of mysteries unsolved, sinking deeper and deeper until it was no longer clear exactly why I was leaking.
Sour Patched Kid Jul 2015
Speak your mind and burn ephemeral,
peace in time, a gem, an emerald,
Speak no more, your words desert you,
deep you bore, perched, they hurt you.

Words are birds, they're always fleeting.
Away they fly, at ev'ry meeting.
They cost no pay, they're often freeing.
Away they fray, from you they're fleeing.

The branches broke, they gave to nothing,
beaked by blokes, you must be bluffing,
With broken wings, you hobbled home;
withholding brings forgotten woes.

You dared to fly, you reaped the ceilings,
at dusk, "Goodbye!" - a tale of telling,
You sold none short, you bought your longing,
no silver tongue - you earned their thrashings.

In shadows, taunted, your aura lingered,
its presence blossomed, incessant it spurred,
Forever haunting, a black crow in turn,
in droves of white doves, "At last!" - you were heard.
Sour Patched Kid Mar 2015
I'm sorry we didn't meet like love is supposed to.

I was sitting in my stale kitchen in a t-shirt that was two sizes too small,
and you were covered in horse manure in a stable in the cold - or so I imagine.

I'm sorry we didn't meet like love is supposed to.

I gave you my best pick up line,
and you read it.
A twitch in my leg told me you had come up with a verdict.

I'm sorry we didn't meet like love is supposed to.

I searched for the right words
because I had plenty of time.
I was just one of the nerds,
and well, you were a "dime".

I'm sorry we didn't meet like love is supposed to.

Three dimensions told the whole story.
I couldn't look away from your beauty.
You looked at me with the same red fervor.
And I knew you could see right through me.

I'm sorry we didn't meet like love is supposed to.

We were two out of thousands,
the city was ours.
But my lips were going nowhere.
And neither were yours.

I'm sorry we didn't meet like love is supposed to.

I sent the right letters,
and you sent the right digits.
Now I would write letters,
if only you would lend pigeons.

I'm sorry we didn't meet like love is supposed to.
Sour Patched Kid May 2023
i can't recall your portrait
but i'll never forget the feelings you inspired

my tornado shelter in the middle of the storm,
keeping me grounded while the sirens scream

my daily PRN for a diagnosis of loneliness,
easing the pressure of life's trials,
bubble-wrapping my heart and mind

my extra blanket in the depth of winter,
giving me warmth when the furnace died...

... died like our love did
Sour Patched Kid Nov 2015
Tell me my wounds are beautiful
And that the pain I feel is justified
Prove the pen is not my only friend
Sew me up and sit a while, be my time
The voice in my head won't fill full
We'll cry until we're numb as iced
Sour Patched Kid May 2016
I kissed her, my hair in our eyes.
I pulled back, mystified.
She made me feel poetry.
And her skin was poetry,
delicate and savory.
I was so inspired that
I couldn't find the words.
"Seeing that she's nearly a stranger,"
I thought,
"I'll have to show her later."

Her beach sand is sprinkled with fine sea shells.
I'll spend the evenings studying them all.

And I am a boy
who has never seen the ocean -
the vastness in her eyes that I
would love to get lost in.
Sour Patched Kid Mar 2018
I sparked a cigarette and painted my faults with gasoline.
I steadied my limbs and summoned the guillotine.
Never had I pondered that love was so subtle.
Never had I wandered so far from rebuttal.
It's funny how feelings themselves whimper when they're so animated.
Had I known any better I would have stayed for sedation.
Tell me something that echoes so profound.
Tell me something that forever makes a sound.
Sour Patched Kid Sep 2021
You said I spoke poetry
And your mind was as sharp as all your thorns
But I'll wear a suit of armor
As I hold you close in memory

Love, your friend always,
-The Sour, Patched Kid
Sour Patched Kid Oct 2021
your warmth like a blanket
gripping like an anklet
i held you tight in my arms,
too loose in my grasp

your smile like a spanglet
i crack your ears to see it
eyes dark like the lights
when we lay next to each other

your heart like a home
with a familiar scent
- a flower of love in our garden -
and the comfort of a family

your break like an iceberg,
you held too little above
and so much below,
sinking my ship of hope
in the idea of love

"it was an honor being your partner."
yours, too, Bug.
Love, forever in my heart,
-The Sour, Patched Kid
Sour Patched Kid Sep 2021
our time traveling hearts
don't recognize the hours as they slip by us
like the wind while we hide in this
little home we built called "love"

Love, your friend forever,
- the sour patched kid
Sour Patched Kid Mar 2015
Whatever happened to the moments
we lived for
the moments we lived from
electrifying lives
currents of passion
high voltage that knew no resistance

what do I have to do?
to feel the surge
to feel the spark
to feel alive again?

Is it in the tomes?
Is it in the songs?
Do the muses hold it in the walls?
Is it inside of me?

Searching for the switch
to send me back to passion
To make me feel charged again
to make me feel in charge again
Sour Patched Kid May 2016
Some say
"Math is hard."
I grin
Hiding
Thinking
What I
Would give
To be
Able
To love
The way
Love ought
To be.
Sour Patched Kid Sep 2021
i haven't held on to a single memory of you
not a fight or a session of love making
i try to recall the person i loved
what was your laugh like?
what made you cry?
and i can
hardly even picture your face
not a wrinkle or freckle in place
i've forgotten the animosities along with what seemed to be only fantasies
remind me who you are...?
how does that voice sound?
the one that sang along to the melody of my mind
i can't remember the last two years of my life
but i'm sure it will all return
atom by atom
at the most inconvenient moments
such as
during a date with my new love
or during a depressive episode
or when my heart is broken next
Sour Patched Kid Oct 2014
Thousands of electric pulses
scattered in confusing patterns.
Imagination convulses,
tattered, mind under matter.

Enveloped by space and time,
pardoned by neither,
eloped by both.
Pacing.

Shooting from the hip,
mind's eye is blind fire,
pawing through the labyrinth,
waiting for the shift.

Hopeless.
Blunder.
Shocks.
Over.
Next page