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Sep 2016 · 538
nevergrowingup
CastorPolydeuces Sep 2016
I am an aging immortal,
exponentially expanding
knowledge through time
while my skin shrivels and
my senses dull. I surpass
the sad image of old age,
I veer into the morbid,
macabre.
Aug 2016 · 534
Untitled
CastorPolydeuces Aug 2016
I've met people like you.
Loud, boisterous, dangerous, charismatic, charming, perfect.
You, force of nature, unable to be forgotten.
steam rolling over the people like me.

All my best friends have forgotten me. But I remember them.
My friends were the loud and the powerful, protecting me, meek and sheltered. So years after I've left, their impression is seared into my brain while I'm just an insignificant whisper deep in the back of their memories.  
My friends are the **** and mysterious. The ones everyone wants to be. I'm only kept by their side because of my docile nature, every group needs a quiet one. Unfortunately the quiet ones are easy to forget...
Aug 2016 · 532
Groovy.
CastorPolydeuces Aug 2016
You are soft, fleshy between my fingers. Between my teeth.
Like biting into a peach, the pull of skin before the real fruit is bared.
as always, I don't know what I"m doing.
CastorPolydeuces Aug 2016
I don't know who I am.
And I know I never have.
For some reason its hitting me harder than before,
or at least from what I remember.
I remember it being bad when my mom was a wreck
and I, a strictly A student, received my first F.
I remember it being bad when my first step dad left,
and the weird assurances he made that he wouldn't abandon me.
I never thought he would, until he tried to reassure me.
But the earliest memory I have of not knowing myself, of it being bad,
was when I was little, in court, because my dad wanted to adopt me,
and a man I'd never met wouldn't let him.
I was young, and I realized I didn't know who I was.
I was 12 and I didn't know who I was.
I was 16 and I didn't know who I was.
Now I'm 20 and I don't know who I am.
My mom was 36, and didn't know who she was.
I'm writing this as documentation.
A thought taken down, so as not to be forgotten.
All sorts of people talk about forgetting who they are,
and finding themselves again.
I want my future self to know, that as of yet,
I've never known who I was.
I'm only posting this publicly because if anyone has any clue how to figure this **** out, I'd like to know.
Aug 2016 · 265
Another non poem.
CastorPolydeuces Aug 2016
When I was 16, I couldn't wait for the freedom that comes with adulthood.
No, I didn't want to grow up. I want that to be clear.
I wanted a neverland, young forever, without a curfew.
Now I'm 20. I know, still young, whole life ahead of me, blah, blah, blah.
The problem is in my head I'm 16.
I don't think I'll ever grow up.
But when I look in the mirror, I'm old. Aging fast, the future is too near and real, blinding in its obnoxious inevitability.
I'm not peter pan, or a lost boy.
They say enjoy being young while you can, adults laugh in a bitter manner when kids dream of future freedoms but they seem to ignore the fact that it isn't age that people long for, its the freedom we attribute to certain ages. No, I don't want to get older.
More than anything, I want to be young.
Young and free, but they seem to rarely overlap.
I am feeling terribly down, I wonder if you remain the age you died in the afterlife...
Jul 2016 · 446
Not actually a poem.
CastorPolydeuces Jul 2016
What if the white rabbit guides you home,
safe and sound,
no rabbit holes, or falling down,
and you grab it by its ******* throat and rip it apart because you're tripping ***** and I don't know how to ******* help you and I'm not a ******* rabbit so
please
stop...
Just trying to stop being so ******* emo. Everyone has bad days right? Bad day, bad trip, same difference.
CastorPolydeuces Jul 2016
I have this vague vision of tangerines bleeding
into blue green skies.
Or maybe cat puke melding with the emerald
carpet beneath my feet.
Some sort of merging, colors, textures, clear and
pristine but elusive.
I have no idea what I'm going on about but I
know it is important.
College has broken me.
CastorPolydeuces Jun 2016
Like the ichor of the gods dripping from your lips, these bottled, lonely, spirits course through my veins.

I am small, just a child with a soft voice, and brittle bones,
I keep to the darkness, only mysterious in my silence, stemming from the fear of my own voice.

You are the darkness in which I find comfort. You are fierce, steel, cold and cynical. Your voice is raspy and enticing, without a hint of remorse for the space it occupies.
trying to find a thesis, professor suggested writing, idk what I'm doing really.
Mar 2016 · 215
some help would be nice.
CastorPolydeuces Mar 2016
I'm holding out for better days,
but while I'm here,
while I wait,
I'd really love a drink.
Or some dust to take me through the clouds.
Feb 2016 · 342
12:39 am 2/26/16
CastorPolydeuces Feb 2016
I thought college would set me free,
I turned 18 and the world opened up,
Rent and taxes and piercings and drugs,
Its all okay.
No one judges you for being wild when you're young.
No one believes you'll last, but that's okay,
failure is expected.
After all,
you're just a
lost teen
on the verge
of
adulthood.

And I love it.
I love the drugs, the drunken nights,
The memories I am making,
I love all the things I was told to hate.
And hate the things I should love.
I hate the people.
I hate talking.
I hate this anxiety that isn't even new,
not brought on by responsibility, or even
drama among my peers,
rather this drama
takes me back
to when I
was small
and hiding while
my parents fought.
The pain in my
stomach and
detached
robotic
self
assurance.

I've always been like this. Practical. Analytical.
I've never broken down, cried in front of people,
or yelled or showed aggression.
Instead I passed out from trying,
trying to be normal because
when mommy and daddy
are fighting you don't
show fear.
I didn't realize
until tonight
that at the
lowest I go
back to
childhood.

I don't look at myself much because I
don't want to draw attention or
upset others. I'm too concerned with
perception. It matters what others think.
Mother always said that.
But maybe passing out, maybe panic attacks
aren't a normal method of catharsis.
Maybe I should yell
or argue but that
mortifies me.
I can't be loud,
you don't want
them to hear
because
then mommy
will say
look
you've
upset
her.

I don't want anyone to fight because of  me.
Not really poetry, just release. Super emo, I know.
Jul 2015 · 505
9:35, July 20th
CastorPolydeuces Jul 2015
Lately, I spend my free time imagining how I'd look at a funeral.
I've been before, but all I felt was discomfort and splintering hatred.
What if you died. My darling, I'm afraid I wouldn't change.
I'd go and stare at the wall, the floor, the people who don't know you.
Dry eyes and a judgmental, lethargic gaze settled in.
I never cried in front of you, why would cry in front of them.

I'd watch as the flag was presented, uniforms marching by the coffin.
Perhaps this would be different. I think my hatred would burn a bit brighter.
Those who ordered your death, now dictating your burial. They don't love you. They don't care.
All you are is one more casualty. One more insignificant ant being squished underfoot and forgotten.
I hate funerals.
Jul 2015 · 980
phlegmatic
CastorPolydeuces Jul 2015
I've become an alcoholic.
I drink until its socially acceptable
to lock myself in my room
to avoid the plague of humanity
dwelling in the revealing sunlight,
orange caked faces melting into the dirt.
I'm really ******* nothing. I'm not mad or happy or sad or anything. Just... annoyed. Done.
Jul 2015 · 1.1k
What is a soul, really?
CastorPolydeuces Jul 2015
Dragon flies and lanterns
cast shadows through my mind
causing jesters on the wall
to cautiously unwind,
with a heavy heart of liquor
I beg them to go on,
do try to heal my soul
its fallen, maybe gone.
Jul 2015 · 581
8 hours time difference
CastorPolydeuces Jul 2015
I'll try to relate to you,
I'll try to share my perception.

The world is shiny, silver coated, raw metal just barely dusted in dirt.
Its all angles, sharp and fast, turning with the speed of a ******* fair ride.
One moment, I'm staring at the ***** of your skin as it flows from the cheek to jawline,
Smooth as a pebble worn down by years spent just near the shore.
The next, your veins and muscle pull taut through your frame, slinking into an elaborate system of liquid bronze.
Pulleys and machines, bringing your particles into such a beautiful motion.
Work in progress
Jul 2015 · 658
10 word poem...
CastorPolydeuces Jul 2015
Heavy, hazy dreams of shifting gravity and my missing people
I tried. 10 word poems are hard.
Jul 2015 · 468
11:11 PM
CastorPolydeuces Jul 2015
My breathing feels fluttery, shallow
moths pushing their papery wings up my throat.
I imagine my eyes look glassy, sick
melting from my face,
colors melding like blue green gray lava.
I felt strange this past year.
Jul 2015 · 306
Untitled
CastorPolydeuces Jul 2015
I don't believe in angels or heaven or hell, not honestly.
I don't believe in forever or in life or in death.
I've become a non-entity of self loathing for my lacking purpose.
Its worse when I'm alone.
I hate those people, the ones like myself.
They're pathetic and annoying and utterly loathsome little beasts.
So whiny and emotional.
Who the **** needs purpose anyway?
He left for Germany, only for a month, but I'm in a mood.
CastorPolydeuces Apr 2015
Fleeting moments sending people
running through the trees
as the embers of the fire scatter
with our own passions
The lights sweeping the way
in which we once belonged
and will return to in their
absence.
Through the river, light and drunk
thrilled with each and every
escape, new acquaintances are made
and old ones are brought to
the board for transition.
To a higher state of mind the
commission brings us
closer.
I'm drunk, I'm sorry,  but I want to remember this when I'm not.
Apr 2015 · 735
1:40, April 28th
CastorPolydeuces Apr 2015
Silver hair mimicking the
stars in your eyes
that incite the mercury
running through
my veins.
Apr 2015 · 1.1k
Neverland
CastorPolydeuces Apr 2015
The sharpest clarity graces my mind and sight
Accompanied by an increase
in gravity and thicker air.
Wading through something dense yet
less resistant than water
I feel hazy and intoxicated by
the prickling stars above
Falling to the bed of grass,
dew caress my weary bones.
I've found my home,
familiar and alien,
Its all my own.
Trying to write... Forgive my clumsy wonderings....
Apr 2015 · 427
i'm drunk and missing you.
CastorPolydeuces Apr 2015
You’ve never seen snow like this, never in the realm of reality,
But for a brief, precious moment, my idealistic world lapsed into this one.
I swear to you, never before and never more will the world be as it was.
Tonight.
And yet, nothing can be perfect, nothing is pure
That must be why he wasn’t here.
Twirling, stumbling, through the stars of snow in my fleshy rocket,
He was gone, and I propelled myself through the night,
A lonely captain through space and time, listlessly existing
Hoping you’ll come back to me.
Oh but now the melancholy seeps into my eyes
Tainting my perfect moment.
How sad it is to wander through the beauty of this world
Blind to it for want of another.
Our absurd little morals, necessary structure, obligations…
We forget how to exist without the constant struggle.
There can never be peace in the world,
Because we’ve managed to stifle the peace within our souls.
Nov 2014 · 742
Mear Dother
CastorPolydeuces Nov 2014
Hi, I'm just writing to say that I'm sorry I'm ****** up.
I'm sorry I can't do anything productive. I'm sorry I ******* up my siblings with my clothes and my music.
I'm sorry I'm a monster. I tried... I'm trying... But its hard....
I don't want to hate you but I do. I don't want to blame you but I do.
I blame you for teaching me that Jesus was the only life. I blame you for not even warning me of what this world can turn into.
I blame you for not being strong enough to get over my dad when he cheated on you.
I don't want to. But I do.
I blame you for marrying someone new when you weren't over Him yet.
I blame you for letting that imposter become the source of my brothers confidence issues.
I blame you for my 8 year old brother developing multiple social and mental problems simply because you couldn't control your husband.
Because he was righteous and a woman shouldn't stand up to her man.
I know its childish and I know I'm selfish.
And I claim that completely. I am who I am despite who you are.
I don't want you to take claim for what I've become.
I don't want you to tell your friends about the monster you made.
I want you to realize I am myself of my own accord.
I choose to be unhappy and I'm **** proud of that.
And I love you, though I wish I didn't.
I love you for finally leaving my brother's tormenter, even if it was later rather than sooner.
I love you for crying for my grandmother on her deathbed after you ignored for two years.
I love the fact that you cared enough, at one point in time, to try to keep me from becoming who I am today.
I don't know if these are good reasons and I don't know if you care.
But I blove you my mear dother, and I lame you.
Feeling superior tonight. Nevermind my ramblings.
Nov 2014 · 736
So here's the thing........
CastorPolydeuces Nov 2014
So here's the thing, I think she died. I tried to save her poor, diseased mind.
So I stepped in and took control, steered her shell and lost her soul.
I guess I didn't realize what I was, or what a human actually does.
I thought I knew how your world worked, you fleshy beings are absurd.
So here I am inside her shell, a demon lost, in a different hell.
Nov 2014 · 258
Untitled
CastorPolydeuces Nov 2014
I dream of ******.
My mistress, my mother.
******, ****** my dear...

I dream of Chaos.
My friend and my brother.
Chaos let them shake in fear....

I dream of Death
My reflection, my other.
Staring at me in the mirror...

I dream of Uncertainty
Or I think I do...
My father, oh father....
What shall we do..............
Nov 2014 · 217
Untitled
CastorPolydeuces Nov 2014
Now I lay me down to sleep
Now the dreams will conquer me
Smoke that swirls is my death
My sweet sweet sin
There's nothing left
Now I lay my head to rest
And hope I may
For death in dreams
I know we're young
But we're not free
Not to die as we please.
So I'll smoke these cigarettes
Offer them my soul
And in exchange
They'll swallow me whole
This is the death I choose.
Amen.
Mar 2013 · 448
Untitled
CastorPolydeuces Mar 2013
When thoughts stream through my head-
They acclimate into a presence-
Dark and smothering-
Sinister Nothing.
Jan 2013 · 582
Furies, Fates
CastorPolydeuces Jan 2013
When Nevermore the world becomes, we're left behind, the Wild Ones.
Not nearly finished...
Jan 2013 · 473
I wish...
CastorPolydeuces Jan 2013
To stand apart, remain alone/ Never have to claim a home/ By my side my shadow walks/ Into the woods with my own thoughts/ Where the animals rule, fair and just/ In they alone I place my trust.
Jan 2013 · 475
Everything.
CastorPolydeuces Jan 2013
Through the bright brilliance of the dark/ Into the light their souls embark/ Warped by time and ignorance/ Their sight is burned, their vision spent/ No longer the same, they fear the darkness from which they were born.

— The End —