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1.1k · Sep 2017
The Architect of Depression
Cole Cummings Sep 2017
The sort of home you want to be in,
When all you can focus on are the buttons of his suit,
Tightly woven into the fabric, brand new

Is not the same house you were in when he was alive

Its 3 AM staring at the floor, begging for the sleep to take you,
Anywhere
Even nightmares are better than this, nothing.

The solemn stares churn my stomach,
Somersaults with acid, my body lurches
Doubling over in the pain that is grief.

When the eyes in a room all fixate on you,
It's difficult to hide in a box inside your own head,
Because they tear the walls from your fragile shelter,

And their rain is a burning flame,
You are the match that refuses to be put out,
But wants desperately to feel nothing.

The sort of home I want to be in is
Roses, the thorns cut clean from the stem,
Green tea, just the right temperature
And an old console with his favorite game loaded up

But that house is abandoned,
Left like last week's sawdust,
Swept under the rug in a pile of books,
And i am the can of kerosene in the corner of the room,

Waiting to be used in the most vile of ways.

I am an unlit candle in the midst of a hurricane,
The shadow of the night sky blotted out by the moon
I am the fading smile of remorse,
The pang of guilt,
The sorrow of loss

I am the broken inside of you,
The one that eats away at you until the shell is broken apart
And you are all that's left
In the dictionary, i look up sad and expect a picture of me,
Depressed is myself in my room, alone
Suicidal is the knife i once picked up,

Daring to question if my own beating heart was worth the blood

My House is boarded windows and jail cells,
The crawlspace of cobwebs and creaking stairs,
The leaky roof and patchy ceilings

I am all but a finished mess,
And my foundation is cracked and split.

There is always vacancy,
Because who wants to stay in a house like that?

I’d rent out the rooms, but i'm paying for their rent
if they choose to live inside these decrepit walls

I only wish someone would see the shambles
As a start, and not the leftover parts from a failure,

If these 4 walls housed opportunity,
Instead of destruction.

My house, is a home that i long since enjoyed.
Cole Cummings Mar 2017
5 Reasons I stay awake at Night:

Escape .

From the monotony of waking up and taking the same crap from the same life, no matter how many times I shuffle the deck, these are still the cards I've been given
From the nightmarish dreams of reliving my best low-lights and missteps, and coming to terms that I might never be all that I've wanted to be

From the cold reality that these sleepless nights hold the only comforts I truly have left, inside the pages of a yellowed journal, battered and bleeding ink from its blurred lines.

Distraction.

Binging another series on Netflix always sounded more appealing than taking another night to cry into my already soaking pillow until I pass out again

Playing through Pokémon fire red and naming my rival "******" was fun when I was 12, so why stop now? Even though its my.. 132nd attempt.

There is always another more obscure indie band that might somehow understand me better, and I cant leave that unheard.

Fear.

I am so afraid that when I sleep, I might never wake up from that slumber. Not that I'm afraid to die, I'm scared of how badly I want to at times

I'm terrified I will see familiar faces in my best dreams only to wake up and remember they are still gone, and I have to go on without them.
I'm afraid of tomorrow. So maybe if I stay awake past the point of sleep, far beyond tired, I can always stay one step ahead...right?

Loneliness.

How am I supposed to crawl into a half-made bed, alone when it was made for two? Your body should be here next to mine, but I cant remember the last time I felt that.

If you were beside me, It would be easier for me to drift off through the atom bombs and revving chainsaws that are my addled mind.
I'll lie awake and stare at this pure white ceiling, and think of how Michael Collins must have felt on the dark side of the moon. Sometimes I envy him.

Me.

I know inevitably, my hollow and tired bones will have to shatter as I crawl on top of the broken shards of glass that is my mattress. As I grab the blanket made of flames, I pull it up to my throat, feeling its scalding touch steel the oxygen from my lungs, the asphyxiation slowly taking me under again.

As these shards seep deep into my now lacerated skin, I feel the heavy chains of my bed frame grab me and hold me in my broken solitude, as that sweet mistress of death floats above me, gently reaching out to me.
How beautiful she is, she leans in for that sweet kiss of the end of all things, my lips tremble as I meet up to greet her, but these chains keep me just close enough to feel her cold breath, never enough to feel that serene deadly poison she offers.

But how bad I want to on days when my bed holds me hostage, to kiss her in my bed until everything turns black.
694 · Aug 2016
Her.
Cole Cummings Aug 2016
When I see her

All the street lights fade a little

And Her clarity is the only thing i notice

She has this way about her

Like

When she wakes up with bedhead

Grumpy and Confined

I think she is an angel

No a goddess, but not aphrodite

Rather, She is the Athena

Strong willed with temperament


When we are out together

Nothing else matters

Okay well maybe getting there on time and paying attention to the road

But i digress

Her words sing to me as if a siren on a lost beach

And I want to be enveloped in her waves



We go together

Like two awkward and odd looking puzzle pieces,

seemingly different yet when they find each other,

they interlock with the strength of armies


If she was a song

Id play her on repeat for the rest of my life

No matter how annoying it would end up getting


If she was an outfit

She would be my favorite pair of shorts I wear 3 days in a row and wash once a week

Never leaving the Laundry room as i have no pants on


If She was anything

She could be barbed wire and i'd stail want to hold her

A fire and i'd let her burn me out into the ashes, kindling me like our love for eachother


If only


If only she was mine
398 · Jul 2016
Skin
Cole Cummings Jul 2016
I am... White
See I've never had to deal with a single unjust right.
Or be worried about where I was gonna sleep at..night.
I never had to deal with moral issues concerning me
Or be passionate about getting equality.

But that doesn't mean I'm, white?
To stereotype in me in a group paints the darkest light
to say I'm different because of the color of my skin?
I find that a deplorable sin.
I'm more than just, race
I'm more than a rich suburban basket case
I have morals and feelings just like you
And your assumptions are just a tool we all misuse
So please don't tell me I've had it easier because if who I was born as
Because if how far away from the equator I grew up from.
You don't know me.
My story hasn't been told.
Because underneath the skin,
You can find gold.
See all it is is a layer.
Its like the needle on a record player.
It doesn't have much significance
Its like paper, blank but magnificent.
So don't show them your blank pages, but give them your pen
Don't let them write on your skin.
393 · Jul 2016
Balances
Cole Cummings Jul 2016
Light

The concept of good, morally sound and just
A thing we rely on, look to and trust

Dark

An evil shadow, lurking behind
The scary, destructive, inner recesses of one's mind

But one cannot function without the other. For in the brightest of lights we see the darkest shades cast on the ground below

And in the dark we see that faint lantern light, illuminated with its glow.

So can we say that pain cannot live without health? That love cannot exist without hate? Joy without sorrow?

To acknowledge that these ideas are a reality
Would make more sense than dismissing them as fallacies

Cause I believe in order to feel happy you need to have been sad
And in order to feel like you've gained you've had to have lost what you had.

People always ask how I can be so understanding
How I can be so patient, kind and undemanding

And I think it's because I've felt pain myself
I've been in sickness and in health

And its not so hard to realize why
No one likes it when someone cries.
382 · Feb 2017
Gunpowder, and Salt.
Cole Cummings Feb 2017
So let me stuff my pockets with roses and daffodils,
And walk up to the soldiers sitting on the hills,
And let them cry as I place those flowers in their rifles, and the dead grass beneath their feet will fill with a brilliant green, and the tears down their face will know the pain and suffering of
war.
368 · Feb 2023
L.
Cole Cummings Feb 2023
L.
The way her smile could light the darkest room,
Or shelter you from the worst storm was something to behold,
She could make my off days so much better with so little effort,
it was unbearable

The way her cute button nose looked when you saw her there,
striking orange and fashion sense,
paired with eyes that could unlock the gates to heaven for an atheist,
It was too much to handle

The way her kiss, softer than a cloud, sweeter than the nectar of the gods,
could make honey bees blush,
I could live forever in that moment,
I longed to feel the rush

The way her sentences she spoke could hold me captive, a prisoner of war to her siren song, the river was so deep she dragged me into,
but I longed with all my being to go where I was not meant to tread.

When we both were so bashful, the things we would say in private,
my ears, her cheeks,
our skin
The lightest red

I gave her up, because she was never mine,
and I’ll keep love at a distance,
the short and passionate moments we shared,
close behind.

I fell harder than she ever knew,
she is just so beautiful in every moment, the most colorful hue.
If I ever had a single regret,
it was not finding a way to not lose
you.
I love her, even still.
364 · Feb 2023
Blindsided
Cole Cummings Feb 2023
A ninety mile per hour fastball
Straight from the pitch
An oncoming pair of headlights
The crunch of my bones
As she shatters my walls
I thought I worked so hard to build

My blood on the pavement as I pour out
My battered and bruised heart
In all of its tiny pieces
She is needle and a thread
The stitch in my veins
The Paramedics won’t be here anytime soon

The last choked bit of air I’ll breathe
Will be full of you
A song I will never finish singing
But love the notes I’ve heard time and time again
They will call a time of death upon arrival

The road was your kiss and I wanted to be all over it,
So the rash is worth it
The skin grafts, my mistakes from previous times
I am patchwork at best, half a man, more parts to be used than a full package

My lungs were blackened from the smoke, but I’d give you them anyways if you asked, tear me limb from limb as you tell me you love me, brutally and with such cold tone

The metal twists my insides as I connect with the hood, my legs off the ground, kind of like how I feel when I’m with you, floating through the air, waiting for the fall.

The last cigarette in my pocket will never be burned, I never got around to telling you how I really felt. I knew the words, like a vice, would be poison to your lips

Sirens will line the street, the sole witness to a love letter unspoken in the rain, my blood washes down the ditch and soaks the grass. No one saw it coming
338 · Feb 2023
Bond
Cole Cummings Feb 2023
I wish I could reply
“It’s great to hear from you!”
Or
I’m glad you stopped by
But that’s not how you are
And I’ve never known why

Ever since our dad had died
You pulled the plug on us
And now I just sit and cry
But you’ll still say I miss you
Even if it’s a lie

We never got goodbye
You just walked out of my life
Left me high and dry
I needed you most
And you took to the sky

15 years later, I still try
To catch you on the phone
Never left my minds eye
But you are too busy for me
Just another guy.
miss you man, hope you are doing okay in Minneapolis.
331 · Aug 2016
Existentialism
Cole Cummings Aug 2016
My Hands,

Stretch skyward from my arms

So i can reach the next rung on that old rope ladder

And my feet, dangle in the air,

Just above all of this Earth-matter


I try desperately to reach the top of the treehouse

And onto its dusty plywood planks, rotted throughout

And as my hand reaches further, grasping for the next rung..


Nothing.


Wait, what do I mean nothing? Surely i was creating an intriguing story, luring in to, grab your attention, so why stop now?


Does it matter? The Matter we are made of? Are we made? Are we...real?


Can I really know what that threaded rope feels like as i clutch in my hands

Or can i explain to you in vivid detail how the old oak tree smelled rustic and earthen


Was that all real? Did i make it up? Are we just a figmentation of a collective imagination?


Woah, Too deep.


See, I don’t agree with it.


I define my reality as moments where i question if it is.


For example, The first time I rode my shiny new bike down our old country street, in which i immediately hit a tree.


Or my very first kiss with a girl that wasn’t my mom, its awkwardness and romanticism somehow shown through a dimly lit row of crowded movie theater seats.


Maybe my last hug with my dad, before he passed away, and how i couldn't feel his life when i said goodbye to him the next day.  


Moments like these… make me question everything. Whether or not Fate exists and if I remembered to check my breath before leaning in


I think, therefore i am. But it's more than that.


I feel, and i taste and i touch and i am aware.

Aware of the pain of grief, the joy of kindness, the thankfulness of understanding.


I am aware that no one person is the same and that everyone's story is worth telling, that every letter i type is a new permutation or combination that may have never been said before, in a way that has never been told.


I am aware that i can feel infinite while simultaneously feeling infinitesimal, and that my boredom is one of the most fascinating things on this planet.


So even if this isn't real, that my words aren't my own, that all of this, is just… nothing.


I feel unique, and different, and no amount of science will take away the mystery of my spirit.
324 · Feb 2017
Dad
Cole Cummings Feb 2017
Dad
I went out for breakfast alone, thinking of you.
Reminded of when we would rush to the diner
Not far from our home, a few hours before noon.
I remember the wood booths, because we wouldn't take tables,
And the French toast and the syrup, eating as many as I was able.
When we would blow bubbles in our milk, mom would ask us to not
But you would join in, and she'd her roll her eyes, and laugh with us lot.
The big family gatherings were always my favorite. 20 plus people all crammed in the corner of Brooks, I can still taste it.
A hint of laughter, a dash of bad jokes, a lot of pancakes,
And a tad of cigarette smoke. But those were the days I felt best, when I look back to them, there's a smaller hole in my chest.
I miss that old diner, where I heard your bad puns
Where we sat down and ate, not just because they served buns.
I miss the feeling that I had when you took me out for pie. But who was I to know that one day you'd die.
I love you. More than anything. And I know you can't come back. But all the same, I'll still cherish those moments, when I remember your name.
This was a piece I did sitting at a booth for one at a diner around 9 AM.
311 · Aug 2016
Her, Part II
Cole Cummings Aug 2016
When You are near me it's like
Magnets
The undeniable attraction
Sends us reeling toward each other
In a head on
Collision

When we touch it's as if
We could create citywide blackouts
Because the sparks we generate
Could run a country for months

When you kiss me
I feel alive
As if I'm discovering life for the first time
Like I'm opening my eyes and finally being able to see

When you snore
Chainsaws cutting down forest get jealous
And I couldn't sleep better knowing that

When you are gone
I am a rain starved crop and you are my cloud
How I long for your presence and feel your touch

When you laugh
It's like a magnificent choir of angels,
Or you are a symphony
Filled with crescendos and staccato

I am so lucky
To even be around you
I could die
With a smile on my face
Simply knowing
You were mine
Wanted to put in center alignment but whatevs.
311 · Jul 2019
The Truth of the Matter.
Cole Cummings Jul 2019
Another late night
Staring at my phone
I’m feeling so alone
I know I say that I have grown
But man I should have known
How that was a lie
Just like you and I
I don’t know why
I cannot empathize
With your feelings inside
What you are trying to hide
You say it’s over but I can’t cope
This just friends **** hurts the most
Yeah I know it was for the best, but it don’t
Feel like either of us is as happy as
We could be, just two of us having
What should be, reminiscent of
Couch conversations and quiet
Reservation, the chill down my spine
As you kissed me... ****
I miss the stupid things for sure
Like how ‘not enough’ you thought you were
But I would be the one to tell you first
There could be a million others and I’d still
Pick her.

****, what am I doing
Guard my heart, focus on healing,
Replace the loneliness with weight lifting
Maybe then I can feel something
Run miles on treadmills
Just to sprint away from the problems
‘Cuz overcomplications?
Man I don’t wanna solve em’
And if she ever wants to choose me for real?
Well I’ll open myself up and tell her how I feel

Till then it’s bottled up,
Tell myself to shut up
Wanna tell her all the things inside my head
Yeah she got me ****** up,
Just a few words a day ain’t really enough
I want long deep introspective
Followed up with romantic directive
Wish I could change my perspective
And see that she is protective
Of my innocent soul
And my fragile world
And let me tell you
She has the cutest baby girl
But I’m not the guy
To stop her crying at night
Make sure those laces are tight
Tell her that she’s strong and
To stand up and fight.

Instead I’m the one on the sidelines
Just warming the bench
Tear ducts are dry
Think I’m all but spent
I get to watch as some guy who dipped when the going got tough
Come back like its all good,
He’ll probably split when it’s rough.
But I can’t really judge,
Cause I don’t know him all that well
Just the little bits and pieces
You had decided to tell
I really don’t want to watch this blow up
And turn to smoke
Leave you feeling worthless
Like you’re the broken joke
The pitiless punchline
Battered, bruised over time
Stuck in this revolving half-love
Paradigm.

I wonder if she knows that i will always ******* care, about the way she holds herself, the way she braids her hair, I thought someone who sticks around was pretty rare, people come and go, trust me I’ve been there. So I don’t feel hurt at all that you apprehensive to a fault, throw all your feelings locked away inside a vault, but I’m finessing the tellers to help me get inside, to see the truth of where all of your reasonings reside.
sorry for the explicit content, but i just felt so... raw.
Cole Cummings Feb 2017
I saw you again today, but i didn't
He looked just like you, except he wasn't
now the tears that roll down my reddened face
are from the shattered love i can't replace

The old cars on the street remind me of you
when we were in the garage, like we used to do
now the wrenches are replaced with books,
and the tools taken off of their hooks
but i won't forget the times we shared
working on trucks in need of repairs

My life has become a joke
once you left everything went up in smoke
i try so hard to keep my head up high
but it's impossible to actually fight the sky

If i believed in God, or thought he was real
maybe my family would understand how i feel
if they stopped saying i'll see him again,
maybe i wouldn't miss my best friend

Reality is the cruellest of sisters
it turns you like the strongest of twisters
tears apart your life, like a house with no nails
or drags you down to the sea,
like a boat without sails

Maybe one day i won't feel the pain,
when someone nonchalantly mentions your name
though i highly doubt that would be true
Because dad, i ******* miss you,
303 · Mar 2016
Sad Situation
Cole Cummings Mar 2016
She stood there in some sort of immutable beauty,
Veiled in her guise of despair.
She wept the tears of a fallen angel,
As I gave her a cold, blank stare.
"Over? How can you just say that to me?"
I looked for the right words, desperately clawing at air.
But I lied and just muttered I didn't care.
274 · Jan 2017
Fate, Pre-Existing
Cole Cummings Jan 2017
What a coincidence
That I’d see you there
When I’d all but forgotten about you.

That chapter with yellowed pages I read over and over
Indulging in my fantasies one last time before I use its parchments to stoke the fire

But it had to be today, didn’t it.
A day I decided to turn my life around.
A day I made myself successful.
A day that I am doing better.

I wonder how she feels.
Were those daggers in her eyes real, or just my delusions of repressed guilt?
Was it awkward?
Having the times we were once miserable together come up again, bubbling to the surface like a bitter tea, filled with the much needed medicine for my copacetic mind?

I wonder if she knows how broken I was. <
How crazy it was for me to have left her in the first place.
How fast I regretted my decision.
But that chapter is closed. The bookmark is long forgotten.

I hope she knows how much I care.
How much I value her happiness.
Even if it doesn’t include me.

I think this must be fate.
To meet on a cold day like this,
And face my own truths I’ve been staring at for months.
I guess I really am the bad guy.
272 · Feb 2017
Emotional Soldier
Cole Cummings Feb 2017
8 years ago my dad died
And today I still sit here and ask myself why
What did I do to deserve this punishment
Who took hold of my life, and filled it with excrement?
6 months later almost passed away
Diagnosed with diabetes, learned how to deal with it each day
Now its pushing me down, leaving me feeling gray
And I'm hurting inside, but I'll just hide it anyways
Yeah I never learned the way others really did
Guess growing up without a father ain't no way for a kid
Now I'm stuck inside a hole feeling like I've done wrong
And my only simple solace is the words in this song
Because the sweat on my back doesn't mean that its over
And this pain that I carry is the burden on my shoulders
I ain't talking about quitting or just keeling over
Because I'm fighting with my all, I'm an emotional soldier.
8 years later and not much has changed
11 visits to the hospital and I'm the one to blame
Blood draws every other hour, and an insulin drip
thinking to myself, why am I still in this ****?
3 years in and my depression is crippling
Hours spent self loathing, when I should have been healing
Now I'm sitting in bed, listenin' to myself talk
And my head is hung low, buried inside my thoughts
Because the sweat on my back doesn't mean that its over
And this pain that I carry is the burden on my shoulders
I ain't talking about quitting or just keeling over
Because I'm fighting with my all, I'm an emotional soldier
Almost 20 years old, still naïve in my youth,
Can't deal with my pain, refuse to swallow the truth
Yeah I'm pushing and fighting with all of my might
But its hard to deal with dark, when you're searchin' for the light.
This is kind of a song, but I never really put it to music.
265 · Jul 2019
Summer Shandy Sandy
Cole Cummings Jul 2019
Summer shandy Sandy,
The hints of lemon sour
Crack a bottle on the hour,
I practically drink it in the shower,
I should quit you but I don’t have the power.

A quick take to addiction,
My body gives into submission,
My friends all tell me to listen,
But it’s your cold taste I’ve been missing.

I struggle with the cravings,
Suicidal ravings,
Dashed to bits on pencil shavings,
Written in shame, but I ain’t praying.

Oh, Summer Shandy Sandy,
I miss the long walks,
The quiet talks,
The bomb drops,
Tell me to stop,
But I need to drink,
Don’t want to think,
About the hours later in the kitchen sink,
Where you and I could commiserate,
When I have you I don’t need no dinner plate,
You put me in a sorry state,
No real plans to situate,
But when I’m with you I’m feeling great.

Oh, Sweet Summer Shandy Sandy,
I miss the feeling,
This copacetic healing,
You’ve got my stomach reeling,
But my heart is hearing,
The low tone notes repeating,
The bottles chilled, thought I was beating,
Her sirens calling, but I’m still reaching,
For that sweet sinful cold embrace,
Of her twist off cap, and that smooth, rich grace.
Not actually about a beer, in case it wasn't obvious.
265 · Dec 2016
Late Last Night.
Cole Cummings Dec 2016
"Late Last Night."

Give me your honest answer
Because I'm sick and tired
Of all this useless banter

You lied to me for the last time,
And now I'm investigating
Your shameful war crime.  

Worked late last night,
The same old routine
I remember when you skipped your job
For just you and me.

Now I'm backed against the wall
And your shouting out your contradictions
Spinning all your lies
Like a web of back handed predilections

So I'm shutting the door when I leave,
Because you never loved me.
263 · Sep 2017
The Kinds of Heaven
Cole Cummings Sep 2017
If I could buy a rope,
To pull the heavens you search for
Into the palms of your outstretched hands,
I would max out all my credit cards
And go broke

We look to the sky in hope,
yet down into our hands while we pray
And until this moment
I never stopped to ask why

Maybe it's because heaven is hard work.
Faith is a job with overtime without pay
Religion doesn't have hour lunch breaks
Or water cooler discussion

My resounding resilience to religious rhetoric
Has been shaken by the stirs of sleepless nights and
The calming feel of drowning in my own sorrow in public

Perhaps we look down because we are ashamed
I’ve heard that's catholic guilt.
Or maybe it’s because
Looking up to that savior stings
Because we know we will never be so mighty, so incandescent.

I think heaven isn't just a place.
It isn't just those two golden gates that greet you next to
Gabriel and Michael, and the saints of the church

Heaven is in your pocket.
Heaven is the sand in a rotating hourglass
Heaven is the smile you never get tired of seeing

It's the last breath you take before falling asleep
And the sigh of relief as you finish a day's work
Heaven is the place on earth that you can't wait to be

Maybe one day, i'll find the heaven in me.
261 · Oct 2017
Hours and Albums
Cole Cummings Oct 2017
Its 4 A.M. and I'm listening to another obscure indie band I think you'd like.
The Album in question is appropriately named:
People Who Can Eat People Are The Luckiest People in The World.
Apparently, we all have bad people inside us.
Rapists, Nazis, Politicians, all crowded inside our tiny hearts.
No more room for compassion.
I guess we eat our issues and stuff them there,
Like some sort of factory.
Maybe that's how evil is created.
Stories for another time i guess?
Its 5 A.M. and I still miss you.
The Next Album on my playlist is titled Hospice.
I suppose that's a way to say how i feel.
So close to giving up, just comfortably dying.
He keeps saying that he's sorry.
I'm not sure what for.
I'll send you another Playlist later today.
Maybe you will hear my screams in between the upbeat guitar
and crashing of drums that is my tired body and soul.
Maybe you can tell me what i don't understand.
Do the Impossible.
Fix me.
Its 6 A.M. and the music has shifted to Button Poetry broadcasts
Neil Hilborn and Reagan Meyers clash against Sabrina Benaim
all of them saying the same thing without speaking the same words.
"Broken does not mean useless"
"Depression is not a means to an end"
"You cant fix some things with paper and pens"
They all scream their emotions into an open mic, the feedback cries with resounding applause, hollow but sweet.
It's 7 A.M. and i'm still here.
Still silently screaming.
I pray that my words reach your deaf ears.
258 · Feb 2018
Red
Cole Cummings Feb 2018
Red
Red light...
One more broken promise
One more temptation sated

Red light...
The way she leans toward me,
Like a wave crashing into the sand

Red Light...
Just.. one more? Please don't,
Don't turn green yet.

Red Light...
I could have sworn we said this wouldn't happen, but I'm so glad it did.

Red, her lips turned into a smirk,
Her eyes looking into mine

Red, the anticipation, the clashing of our tongues, the blood, coursing through my excited veins

Red, the hair in my hands, my hands, wandering

Red, the flush of my cheeks as I sin in the sweetest of ways

Red, the rush as her lips curl around my ear, her breath warm and inviting

Red, the blood as she bit my lip, causing noises to cone out of me I haven't heard in some time

Red, my face as my hand was guided, my body far more willing than my mind.

That night I drove 90 all the way home in an attempt to recreate how alive I felt in that moment.

So kiss me again under the full moon, and beautifully destroy me.
So tonight was interesting.
234 · Feb 2017
Friends.
Cole Cummings Feb 2017
Sometimes I pity myself,
Just take my esteem and pride and throw it on a shelf
let it sit and collect more dust
cover it up in a coat of rust
But there are these people in my life who bring a rag and some polish
Keep me on path and bring me knowledge
Because without them my trophies are dull
When I'm alone I'm just a boring hull
So as I look back through my span of time
I know its you, who makes me shine.
199 · Apr 2018
Headlights
Cole Cummings Apr 2018
And I'm sitting in my work parking lot, trying to remember why my headlights don't turn off on their own, I begin to cry.

Not because it's 10 PM in a town that sleeps at 8, or because no one is here to help me, but because I can't remember the last time I laughed.

I'm sitting here, my head low into the steering wheel, crying because I never got to say goodbye to the people who mattered most.

I'm crying because all around me are burnt bridges and broken promises, and my headlights never turn off.

My car is empty, depleted.
We commiserate for a moment, thinking of unblown candles on a death bed birthday. The last whisper of love as it fades behind a crooked smile, her strawberry lips pressed against your neck, you knowing this moment is finite.

The frost on the Windows threaten to give me cold comfort where there is none, I am wrapped in a blanket of empty sorrow and hopeful wishes that will never pan out.

The lights are still on around me, the music, faded in the background, and my broke down car resonates perfectly with the broke down me.
Oh boy, I ******* up last night. Had to get two coworkers to come jump my car in the middle of the night.
195 · Feb 2017
Kind of Lost?
Cole Cummings Feb 2017
They tell me I have a right to be angry and I deserve to be mad, that I should have spite for having things taken from me, what I once happily had
But I don't know what I should have hate for, what's justified in my wrath, should I have direction-less disdain? Or just destroy everything in my path?
I think its a bit sad that I think I have no true place in this life. to be filled with virtue and talent, yet I choose to cut myself down with a knife. Say I don't care, or I'm OK with not having joy, for crushing my hopes and dreams when I was still just a boy
Maybe tomorrow will be different. maybe tomorrow I'll change. But who's to say I won't wallow in my own self pity and continue to choose to stay the same?
They say that god allows us to go through these trials because he knows we can get through them, and stay on our course. I hate to break it to you, all mighty lord, but you may have bet on the wrong color, on the wrong horse.
Cole Cummings Sep 2017
She said she found a nice boy.
He’s probably, let's be honest, much cooler than me.
Probably wears better leather jackets
And listens to more obscure indie rock than i do.

I should be happy, right?
Thats what im feeling?
Why on earth would i want someone to be alone?

Yet here I am,
Listening to Brand New
Thinking of you,
And how we drifted apart.

Was it my fault?
747 miles doesn't seem so far when you take a jet,
But missing you feels like forever,
And my cup is filled to the brim with shameful regret.

Is it wrong that i care about you just enough to nag at the back of my mind?
That with every playthrough of Deja Entendu and Science Fiction,
You seem to claw at the dark, uncharted corners, where i was most blind.

How do i tell you that i'll be fine, when we both know how i've been,
And how that is a far cry from the actual truth?

How do i tell you that i've been obsessed with knowing that you are happy,
Because it secretly kills me to know you are doing great without me?

How ****** up is that?

I need to know you are ok so i can't be.

Seems pretty backwards.
194 · Sep 2017
Rewritten and Dangerous
Cole Cummings Sep 2017
The fleeting dream
Is dangerous

Her lips
Curl into a perfect smile
Followed by that quiet laugh,
sweet like honey

In my mind,
We are in the backseat of my 2000 dodge,
Hands on each other and my lips pressed to your exposed neck

Instead, we are sharing stories about how ****** up our lives are
And how complicated situations can really get

She asks if i want a hug,
For her to embrace me slowly,
Her arms wrapped around my sides tenderly
as she tells me all she ever has loved
Using only the softness of her touch

If things were simple,
We would be at your house, in your bed
Reading neil hilborn and
Exchanging actions on these repressed feelings

The fleeting dream
Is curious

I wonder how many opportunities
To kiss you,
Ive missed?

I wonder if you feel the same way?

Are you as guilt ridden as me?

To want something off limits, and know you should never have it,
But like the succulence of the forbidden fruit,

You had to, just once?

You were my one and only sin,
The temptation i was falling into fully aware, and not dragging myself back from that ledge.
185 · Jul 2019
Flickered Flame
Cole Cummings Jul 2019
She doesn’t want to hurt me,
But she’s already burnt me.
Flickered flame,
The sound of her name,
I’m undeniably attracted to the pain,
I wonder if I asked her to stay,
Against all odds would she remain?

Guess life’s too complicated,
Just us commiserated,
My thoughts not entirely sated.
I really wish we could have dated,
Remember apartment where it’s shaded,
Not all the feelings that I have are truly satiated.

I want to be there for you,
I just want to be your come through.
Help her learn to tie her shoes,
Like all good fathers should do.

But I’m a mess, you say you’re a wreck,
Something I’ve come to detest.
You say you aren’t enough, not the best,
But I think you are so much better than the rest.

You’ll never be alone, without a home,
This I’ve come to know.
One day your daughter will be grown,
On her own,
And the single tear will be shown.
That’s the life that you live,
The things that you did,
All for a kid.
The most important thing in the world,
There’s nothing more precious than
Your baby girl.
These poems are pretty much all i have left from keeping me from going insane.
138 · Sep 2018
For you, wherever you are.
Cole Cummings Sep 2018
Maybe it’s nothing
It’s possible I'm looking at something
Not actually there.

I feel like… I'm drowning.
The words in my throat are heavy,
I'm choking on air.

All these things I could say,
That i want to.
The emotions I could share.

Maybe I just want you to know
You are wanted,
You are cherished for,
And cared.

I'm too quiet,
I don't say things at the right time.

All I do is write down my thoughts,
In a haphazard sort of rhyme.

I know I'm rather boring,
Not nearly worth the wasted hours

But my life is sunny now,
Before it was rains and showers.

I'll probably never find the courage to tell you
And let you walk away,

But just know at that moment in the bar,
I felt something that day.
112 · Jun 2020
Unopened, Love Your Son
Cole Cummings Jun 2020
Hey again.

I suppose it's been a while since we have talked, yeah?

I still miss you.

It still hurts sometimes, knowing you’re gone.
Down this path, the road a mile too long.
Wishing you could help me right all the things that i've done wrong,
Or tap my foot along with you to your favorite song.

I know it isn't much, but i'll keep you in my heart
Every beat i'll think of you, but that's only just the start,
Now i'm crying every night, flooding my room just after-dark
Soon i'm gonna need a paddle, soon i'll need to build an ark

When i hear an engine run, i think of all the fun
I miss the road trips to Iowa, i miss being your son
There are so many more things i wish i could've done
Start a family with you here, make you proud, my number one.

This tight pain in my chest,
With all the secrets that i kept,
The lonely nights where i stayed up,
Broken and depressed,
I cannot sleep, barely eat, hardly get my rest
I miss you dad, i always have
Just know you were the best.

At twenty three it's hard to see,
A future once so bright,
I'm searching for, the answer or
Some philosophy or might,
The strength to stand, to be a man,
That i can be, I'll fight
So one more time,
I’d like to hear
How you’re so proud of me.

Like a recorded dream, I’ll believe it still,
The hopes sitting on my window sill
But i know i cannot reach you there
Not with bottles, or razors or pills.

If I could just talk with you again,
Maybe things wouldn't feel so sad,
We could catch up like old friends,
I'd really like that, dad.
91 · Jun 2020
Unrequited, For a Time
Cole Cummings Jun 2020
Before I met you,
I had only ever drank draft beer and never been on a hike.
Now,
I look forward to working out with you on a stationary bike.

I never did anything like buy flowers, or ever want to hold hands,
But with you, I feel something grand.
The cliche that we met, the love at first sight,
It isn't like the movies, but I think that's alright.

You are a spitfire that causes a slow burn,
And now the fire in my heart will ignite,
In the evening with the moon full,
You are such a beautiful, pure sight.

When my fingers touch yours, idle on the bed,
I cant help but let warm thoughts
Seep into my head.

Button mashing beauty,
Your eyes see through me,
Every country song we sang
The notes in my head rang

As you squeeze my hand again,
I like us more than friends,
Don't make me just pretend,
I'm not thinking of you again.

I’ve never had someone over as much as you,
I know i'm a mess, and you’re feeling blue
But i'm working hard to better myself,
So you don't just put me back on the shelf.

You are a dork, but then so am I,
You mean so much to me, can't you see why?
I don't open up often, not prone to cry.
But somehow with you I don't have to hide.

So please kiss me once more,
Outside of my door,
Let me watch you drive up to my place,
You'll see the smile on my face
A man so lucky,
With a dream divine,
One day, I swear,
I'll call you mine.
you poor sap sucker...
83 · Feb 2023
Tied.
Cole Cummings Feb 2023
Knotted up, like my stomach
Every time I think this is the last goodbye
Her pretty eyes will never see the
Melancholy tears I cry

The frayed ends, tangled
Like our web of complex lies
Whether to ourselves,
To spare the hurt when this eventually dies

In loops, the kisses and feel of your hand in mine,
The time rewinds back again to replay the night you came by
Our feelings and bodies,
intertwined

Bundled, the feelings I have in my chest, hidden
I didn’t think I’d be the one so smitten
My heart skips beats at the thought of what we’ve hidden
Questioning these words I’ve written

I want a bow, neat and perfect,
the curl of your bright hair in my touch, your lips upturned in a smile when you say my name,
the ribbon neatly wound around our fingers, tied together in unison,
a harmony without sound

But my hands are tied.
ill wait. forever if i have to.
82 · Jun 2020
Not Mine
Cole Cummings Jun 2020
Answering the question,
I may have mentioned
Over a dozen or so times.

Will you hold my hand,
Make me feel so grand
My quarter in a world of dimes.

Im happy around you,
Even blue has a brighter hue
The perfect syllable to end in a rhyme.

Kiss me under streetlights,
Steal me away for the long nights,
Make me your perfect crime.

Caught in between friends and more
Feels like an endless war,
A revolving paradigm.

I know you aren’t sure,
But I’ll try to assure
You are worth the climb.

Words are tough,
My thoughts get rough
But next to you I shine.

I might be a sap,
And it’s a lot to unwrap,
But i cannot wait for the time,
I won’t be able to say,
She’s ‘Not Mine’.
how young and dumb i was.

— The End —