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Sitting at my dining room table.
Surrounding by family and compassion.

All bleeding
             All hurting
                          All hopeless

Directed at my father.
The man with a heart
             Too big for his soul

So he poisons his body
             To poison his heart
                          To relieve his soul  

Of so much heart.

How can I judge?
I shut my heart off.
             With numbers
                          And logic
                                       And filth.

He lives with his heart.
Open and bleeding.

Begging for the poison
             To relieve his soul
                          Of too much heart
This isn't the way you wanted me to move on at all
And I'm not really moving on because if you'd stop all this madness
I'd be very happy and much satisfied
But it would hurt you and it would hurt her
Because you made a mistake
You know I didn't deserve this
But at the same time, you like it too
But when you're doing this
What do you expect from me
And why don't you understand what I expected from you?
I love you more than anything! Honest!
My moods are so bipolar when it comes to you!
Congratulations for wrecking my heart, brain, soul, and once gracing my body
What will happen to me?
I can not breathe,
I am not productive,
And I usually say that I don't want to live anymore.

What did it mean to you?
When I said you were the reason I lived?
When I told you I was committed?
When I told you I loved you more than anything on Earth?

Why was I not enough?
I made mistakes, but my hand was forced...
People placed thoughts in my head...
I grew them and blew everything up

Just like my love for you blew up
Just like now how I feel okay talking to you (because it comes naturally)
But when you talk about her I just want to die?

What will happen to me?
Will more pills will help let me pretend I don't have this problem?
Swallowing extra extra extra doses of pain killers for the wrong kind of pain?

I have lots to look forward to, but
Remember those times when I said you made the rest of the world disappear?
It works in the opposite too...

Earlier I wanted to die again
While 4 hours ago I felt fine to hang out with you.
Until I get to see how someone else has taken my place in what I used to be to you.
You're gonna be the death of me...
I

I have a good imagination
Nay I say I have a great one
Hell, I'd be willing to say it is splendiforous
Not a word?
I don't really give a **** because
With great imagination comes brand new words

A brand new vocabulary is merely one pro
Just a single benefit that
A great imagination can bestow
There are more but the first has got to be the words
With these brand new syllables and letters yet to be invented
One can weave a new language
A secret code in which to communicate
With the six foot, broadsword wielding fire-breathing ape
That you can call your imaginary friend

But with a great imagination, he is not imaginary
He is indeed real
He sits beside you in the dark
As the nightmare still clings to your brow
And he speaks
Just when you can no longer stand the silence
He will dance in front of your little eyes
Just so the dark no longer seems evil

And when you stand alone in a crowded yard
Because your name is linked to a fictitious disease
Thought up by lesser imaginations
You can still have a friend that tells you you matter
Yet with this scenario comes our first con
People with no understanding of a great imagination
People who do not love it as they should
They tell you that because your friend is not technically real
That you must surrender him
You must lose him and take new friends
Friends that must be better because they are flesh and blood
Even though, they rejected you for nothing more
Than the jealousy that lesser imaginations feel

And so you do
Because you are imaginative, not stupid
You know that to argue would mean yet another label
This time the disease you earn is all too real
You don't fight losing your coping mechanism
You will survive
I will
Because I have a great imagination

II

I have a great imagination
One might even call it amazing
I would call it unstoppable
Because even when it takes heavy blow
It still goes on

It takes the loss of that imaginary friend
And it redirects
Barreling forward like a wayward locomotive
It promises you that you will still be ok
And you believe your imagination because the lies it tells
Are the kind you are willing to believe in the name of sanity

You get older
Keep the most fanciful of your imagination hidden
Because you've grown tired of the couch
That piece of hardened leather
Worn fabric situated under fluorescent lights
Lights, your imagination says, are there to push it away
The way the suited people speak
You know its right

But you need to let this imagination loose
You must have the release that it craves for you
This is the second pro
It can give you direction
You focus it
Control it
Weave it into magnificent fictions where the oddball can win
Or destroy the world, whichever your imagination prefers
You feel you have your true calling
This is the sign you need that you are destined
For more than ridicule
In the world of pages and ink, your imagination is free

The big con is
It is free and unbothered
As long as you keep it out of sight
The wolves who have been waiting to tear you assunder
Those false docs waiting to proclaim you mad
The enemies of imagination
They will look at the spoils of your toiling and tear into it
Every piece of fiction conceived that does not sit right is wrong
They say it is the result of the imagination's slow sister, The Subconscious

That very real disease that once threatened you returns
Its teeth barred
You stare into its thrashing jaws
The fear you feel is unlike anything you have before
But you tell yourself you will survive
You must
I must
Because I have a great imagination

III

I have a great imagination
It is wonderful
And it is maddening
Not mad at the angry screaming
But more of the psychotic laughing used to cover up the crying

The final con this imagination has is fear
As you move on from the lesser imaginations
And ignore those searching for hidden meanings in your scribbles
You start to rely more on your imagination
It hasn't led you astray and its lies are always beneficial
So you listen to it

Yet it stews in your skull
You don't engage it and it grows bored
So it comes up with new ways to terrify you
Just so it can amuse itself
It gives you pictures of the end and the blackness beyond
You see the faces of your mourners
You try to imagine life without you
And life in lifelessness

You hear about a superbug that masquerades
The deadly wolf in the ill sheep's clothes
The images of your imagination kick in and every cough
Every sniffle
Every slight wrong feeling in your gut and you crave Hazmat gear

You realize that you are not the protagonist of your own story
You are not the hero
You are not the plucky princess or the charming rogue
You are able to die at a moment's notice and are unsure of what awaits you
Heaven, Valhalla, blackness or lingering
You don't know and you aren't ready to find out

But in this con comes the final pro
Hope
When you are down , your imagination comes in to console you
Just like the ape from your childhood
It switches the visions
It stows the ones that terrify you for the moment
You now can picture yourself as a success

Your imagination paying off
Your dreams coming true
You picture that moment when you naysay the naysayers
They will come and beg forgiveness
Apologize
Everything looks bright

I can feel the wind in my face
And I have the courage to finally jump
I spread my arms like wings
And I soar
Closing my eyes to the wind
I don't care if I'm falling

Because I know
In the deepest pit of my heart
That I am actually flying
Because I have a great imagination
These wounds won't seem to heal, the pain it stays, it hurts just to feel. Just for a moment, I pray to be numb and have a false sense of what I've become. Broken and bruised, scars that won't heal, building caskets for tears from all these long years. Try again tomorrow, I hear my self say, but it's void when every day is exactly the same.
every one of us has got a little bit of selfish inside
say it all how you felt it for the very first time
but don't you ever feel pressed to say anything?

breaking tide with every way ward step on this
thing we call the depths of, atlantic tides, i need
to skate, hit some guys on the other side of the rink

you should be careful of what you wish for

every one of us has got a little bit of evil inside
embrace it if you don't, it will control your life
I'm on this continent of broken lies, and I'm lying

down in, what I wish for is to be able to be happy being
alone,  I'm done wishing for another person I am my own
ill wish something for you, what do you want carefully?

holding back a laugh , smiling in my own mirrors cleverly
I have stopped counting,
the days, for they are now
just seconds and hours that pour away
into the blankness of life.

It doesn't pain me because it is an
understanding that for you
love could never mean anything
more than a prolonged feeling of monochromia.  

You have fallen,
and fallen again.
Love is nothing more than
a chasing game for you.

But if I had never
come into your life,
what could, in your ways of life,
it have proved?

Nothing.

It was the mischief of the cosmos
that wanted us to be.
Else the weaves of the universe
would come undone.

We have our stories
already written
by a known
hand.

All we are,
are characters
waiting.
Till our curtain falls.
Tired.
I don't have hope.
I don't do hope.
I have calm. Calm is better.
I have a knowledge from somewhere in my bones that it will be okay.
That even if everything I've spent all this time worrying about actually happens,
I'll be alright.
It may not be pretty,
And it may not be the happiness I long for,
But whatever happens to me, I know I will survive it.
And that gives the girl who spends much too much time stepping back and giving others what they ask for a peculiar edge:
When everything that I fear has happened,
And I should be broken,
That is always when I stand the tallest, and let pride put steel in my spine.
I don't have a secret weapon,
I am a secret weapon.
Because although I long to be content, I was made to be tested.

And whether I like it or not, I test well.
 Jan 2014 ComplicatedCharmer
1487
Happy New Year, my love.
I hope you have no one to kiss.
And I hope when that clock
strikes 12,
that I become
something you miss.
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