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Connor C Blake Sep 2014
This conversation dances on our tongues
Like a fire flickering endlessly at the end of a candle
Until it leaps from our mouths into the center of the room
Revealing to us why we could never extinguish it while swaying slowly to a tune

We watch silently as our words move
Gracefully flowing in and out of time and space,
Crescendoing to towering heights then coming back down with the finesse of feather fluttering flawlessly to the song’s pace

And for a moment,
we lose ourselves to the rhythm
allowing each beat to wash over us in waves of
elegant abstracts flowered with beautifully acute details

Where, or even when, we started is lost to us now
Discarded in favor of the wonderful wander

Our words separate,
Then come back together
Like two star crossed lovers eternally entangled in a tango
Crossing old paths with new shoes
While wondering aloud how they ever came to forget the dance’s moves

It’s so natural that we forgot to worry
Blissfully ignorant to the fact our fate is fleeting
So that the only things to exist were you, I, and our verbal exchange
In a perfect marriage of consistency and change

Our words retreat back into our tongues just as the morning light hits,
Jolting us back awake for another routine day
We smile knowing the rest of them could never understand the fierceness of our wits
These words were only ever meant for us anyway
Listen to the spoken word performance I recorded for this poem:
https://soundcloud.com/connor-c-blake/a-dance-of-words-1
Connor C Blake Oct 2014
You took a chance on me
The dying apple on the ground withering without the grace of the tree
I'll never know why you thought I was a thing worth saving

We watched the rain fall with the confidence of a hurricane from the safety of each other’s embrace
As the world begrudgingly continued to spin towards a new day
You convinced me to stay

See, I took a break from wasting away to come dance with you
Following your lead, we stepped in sync and I swear I almost felt a smile spread across my cheek

We refused to return any of our borrowed time
And laughed when they asked why weren’t scared like them because everything ends, right?

We filled our margins with each other and became the exception
Scrawled doodles became elegant Sistine Chapels and Starry Nights
As we danced our way through the unremarkable
You made just taking another breath feel alright

I wanted to thank you for being patient with me as I offered you what was left of my beer-stained soul

Given half the chance, I’d give back what I carved out of this hole
And dust off my heavy heart to make you full
If I find a way to trade places I’ll let you know
But for now I swear to you that I won’t shuffle off without letting my apple grow
Me performing this piece on my sound cloud: https://soundcloud.com/connor-c-blake/autumn-all-the-time-1

I'll find you again someday. I swear it.
Connor C Blake Oct 2014
We were legends
Mythic anti-heroes and sunbathing statues
To be handed down through the fervent fires of forever
Untouchable by the languishing winds of time
Smiling at our own mortality with ****** knuckles and ****-eating grins

We were at once privy to all things and blank like hungry canvases, ready to absorb radiant smears.
They often laughed and asked how we made it this far allowing our uncorrupted appetites to persevere.
We winked back as we took another sip and listened to the music they couldn’t hear.

Such beautifully melancholic catharsis.

We openly dined on our borrowed time

We offered back no apology for our burning hearts.
We rode down the bridge on the backs of exploding horses looking to see what was over the next horizon
With inexhaustible decadence and the confidence of lightening we strolled down the sidewalks without avoiding the cracks,
In fact we hoped with thinly veiled secrecy that one would swallow us whole and reveal to us why the clouds are never satisfied enough to stay in one place

We danced our way through the unremarkable
Side-stepping the gasless motors and cynical flowers refusing to grow on the side of the road
With full glasses and brilliant bursts of light that couldn’t be held behind the cage of a bulb, we descended into the careless waves and let them stain our souls like fire onto coals

It was always the beginning of the day.
The night was always young.
Our souls were always wide awake.
The clocks simply couldn’t keep up.

And at the final beginning’s end, we refused to shake hands
Taking whatever breath we had left to fill our lungs with one last smoldering theft
We greeted death as an old friend whose invitation had been lost in the mail
And left this world the same way we came into it; on fire.

On fire.

We were you. We were them.  We were all the parts of this adventure that slipped through their hearts.
At least we left them our ashes so they find their own new starts.
For the Como cowboys and all the shots we fired at 1054.  Here's to the fools.
.
Connor C Blake Jun 2015
White sheets, won’t you dry?
Stuck to wire outside
You shake in the wind, trying to fly

Truth comes with a lie
You only hear the parts that you like
Know that the view ain’t from the height
And know that your truth ain’t the same as mine

Black boots, won’t you slow?
Picking up mud as you go
Dragging my feet further from home

Time makes ghosts of us all
Stuck in these pictures we haunt
We measure what’s real by what we’ve lost

These hands were never worth much
Always shaking and cold to the touch
Hollow bones ache looking for love
They bend and they break but it's not enough

But I’ve seen your grey skin
The way you stretch it, trying to fit it all in
I know that your colors all lie within

I know that your colors all lie within
Embrace the grey.
Connor C Blake Jan 2016
You were a sold out music hall
And I was just a record on your wall

And I'd turn and turn and hope that you would sing along
While you played symphonies for us all
Connor C Blake Sep 2014
More often than not, I tend to end before I begin.
Endings are easy.
Once you read the last page of the book, getting there tends to become a lot less interesting.
And so I don't try.

I can still see the bigger picture, it's hanging on my refrigerator.
But the frame's been all worn through
And I just don’t have the same camera lens I used to.

They say happiness is a choice but they also say depression is an illness.
So I guess I’m too sick to choose and that choice is reserved for a happier few.
The kind with bumper stickers and ****.

See, I really am tired of living in fear, but I can’t seem to find anywhere else and I’m told the housing market isn’t doing too well.

And anyway, melancholy is an interesting landlord. Every time I try to move, it lowers the rent down and offers me a complementary glass of the easy way out.

Well maybe one day I’ll finally lay my head down and give my beer-stained soul a chance to sober up
It’s been awhile since its glass was empty,
Instead it’s either always half-full, or half-empty, depending on which day of the week it is.

But I’m no stranger to the good fight,
I’ve just been known to walk the line and cop a feel of the darker side from time to time.
And even though I’ve kicked the habit out of sight
You can still see the scars if the light hits them right.
This is really meant to be read more lyrically, like spoken word.
Connor C Blake Dec 2014
There’s a reason for all of this
There has to be a reason for all of this
Millions of billions of cells had to multiply, divide, and die just so you could stand here and say there’s no reason for any of this?

No

I refuse to believe this
It’s not an accident that we exist
Because someone once told me existence is resistance
And we can still win this
All we need is a little patience and persistence

Because objects in the mirror
Are always closer than they appear
And the only illusion here is the length of the distance

You’re going to be fine
You’re going to make it out alive
Repeat what I just said
And if doesn’t sound right, repeat it again

Because every time you draw breath, it's another protest
To every life death has possessed
And the fact that you made it this far with this shadow at your back
Means your stubborn lungs make up for something your hopes lack

Know that there’s truth when they say this too will pass
And each moment you hate is immediately replaced with one that stands atop the past
This pain simply cannot last

But sometimes simple anchors aren’t enough so we’ll tether our ships to mountains and brace for bad weather
Taking each wave like the ground takes the rain until it cleans us for the better
So look up and pull yourself together

There’s still a sky hidden up there behind the clouds
This is all just the prologue
And there’s still a truth somewhere up there in the sun
Slow down, there’s nothing to outrun
We are not the ghosts of the things we’ve done

So curl up your fingers into a fist
And let stubborn knuckles meet the concrete
Don’t worry if your hands bleed
Instead, greet the earth with the same force it gave you every time you fell down
Then, protest gravity by standing up and making yourself perpendicular to the ground

Go slowly now,
But speak so loud that the silence has no choice but to listen
And exit now if you want to but promise to come back because this isn’t over, it’s just an intermission

Because no matter where we were when it began
I promise, it’s nothing compared to where we’ll be at the end

So please, stick around and see how it ends.
This is a piece I wrote to remind myself and anyone else struggling that this isn't what we were meant for. Hold on.  Just continue to breathe and I promise whatever is plaguing you this very second will end. You are so much more than this. Please, promise not to leave.

Live Version: https://soundcloud.com/connor-c-blake/existence-is-resistance
Connor C Blake Oct 2020
You know, whenever I think of my heroes,
it’s never the champions that come to mind…
the ones who can hit harder, or always save the day.
No. Honestly, it’s the ones who take all hits I admire most.
The ones who have to battle each day, just to be here,
because anyone can be win a fight.
It’s a lot harder to lose one, and choose to stand back up anyway,
knowing full well you will get knocked down again.

I know now that strength is not measured by how much you’ve won,
the only strength that matters is built up brick by brick
from your losses.
Sometimes just being here takes all the strength in the world. No one gets to decide what your tough looks like.
Connor C Blake Sep 2014
I wish I could unsee myself.

And then come back in a little while and lay untrained eyes upon the skin I’m forced to wear.
Would it all look the same?
I’d trace all the lines to their ends and find something I didn’t hate in my appendages.

There’s truth in them bones.

Under layers of ligaments, blood, and a whole assortment of other lies, they lie in wait.

They know we’re just borrowing any time we find and we never really owned that breath we try so desperately to hold inside.
There’s a reason for that chill running down your spine.
But I brushed it aside and left my bones in a closet while I found a new place to hide.

I want to let them out but they’re buried so deep under piles of ***** laundry and sorrow-soaked organs.
And I’m worried that with each new ache time makes that I won’t be able to shake them back awake

But I'm still alive.
And so if existence is resistance then maybe I can still win this

So I’m going to tear it all off,
The tattered rotten garbs that so desperately cling to my bones like parasites along for the ride,
Eating up what little marrow remains inside.

Maybe then I can chisel this monkey off my back and finally make myself perpendicular to the ground,
And show gravity that it’s not always that easy to keep me down.

And anyway, I’ve been looking to lose a few pounds.
Listen to my performance of this poem here: https://soundcloud.com/connor-c-blake/marrow-1
Connor C Blake Mar 2015
This moment was never mine
But somehow I found the arrogance to hold onto it
To fear it, to fight it, to somehow decide if it was wrong or if it was right
or if I was even alive inside it, and if I would survive it
To see the next one roll around and drown whatever fragile solace I found.

But before the answer finds me, the next moment and I meet.
And this one isn’t too keen to let me believe it’d be okay to just breathe
Without thinking about the million little reasons I'm too scared to leave

So I’ll stay
And I’ll huff and I'll puff
But no amount of breath will ever be enough
To satisfy the divide between my lungs and my mind

Whatever moment is next to be, but I guess it’s not meant to be
Because I never find the next moment, it always finds me

But there doesn’t seem to be any peace in this fresh start
Only faster thumps from my restless heart
Telling my fingers and knees to shake so violently,
The pillars of sand beneath my feet dissolve back into the sea
And leave me bobbing for air like it isn’t free

And then a new moment hangs its noose around me
and tightens an iron grip around my throat
taunting “think fast kid, dead bodies don’t float”
But I can’t let go, so I just sit there and watch myself choke

And just when the oxygen no longer comes
A new moment claws its way down to the pit of my lungs
Digging up an old ladder with a new set of rungs

I’m still alive, right?
The wires are crossed, but they’re still clicking, the gears are still spinning, clock hands still ticking,
So why am I so incapable of winning?

Which moment am I living in?
Or maybe there’s not much difference between now and then

But before my mind and I can make amends
A new moment interrupts and begins it all again

Send help, dear friend.
Anyone who has ever struggled with the moment to moment battles of anxiety, panic, depression, or any other illness will surely find some ounce  of truth in this.

.
Connor C Blake Sep 2014
Let’s get rid of it all.

Starting with this mouth, lately it hasn’t said anything worth hearing,
Like these lungs haven’t ****** in any air worth breathing
Or these hands haven’t held anything worth keeping
Like these ears haven’t heard anything worth believing
Or this blood hasn’t found it’s way to heart worth beating
And this skin hasn’t resembled anything worth seeing
And this mind hasn't become anyone worth meeting

And when all the worn out masks have slithered away and finally left me beautifully naked and infinitely clean.
Maybe then my soul can find someone worth being.
Connor C Blake Oct 2020
It just feels like no matter how much ground I gain or far I run, it’s still always there, right at my back, this extra gravity. And I know I’m supposed to be okay with that and accept it, because this...thing... is just a passenger in my life now, and it's not going anywhere. But **** if doesn’t still knock me down.

And every time I find a home without it, it seems to eventually find its back to remind me just how tired I am.

At best it is white noise, always chattering in the background. At worse...well you know it goes; it deafens and it cripples.

I think we all just want to know, "how far do I have to run, how long do I have fight...to be normal again?"

Somehow, knowing that question doesn't have an answer doesn't make it go away.
I know the fight never ends, but that knowledge doesn't necessarily make the hits hurt any less.
Connor C Blake Nov 2014
Let’s stay as long as we can
And not worry about the end
But rather, enjoy the time in the middle
As much as we did the time when we first began

Show me your hand
Slowly unravel your fist
I want to memorize the contours of each fingertip
And the way the river of your skin flows down to your wrist

Oh god don’t let me forget this
Just this
Let me at least just keep this

I know the nature of our lives could never let this last
But nobody told me it’d slip away this fast

But even if this is all the time I get
And the rest just ends in heartache
I swear to whatever’s above; it was well worth it
That you were the one truth I couldn’t break

I think I always knew the color of your eyes
The way the light bends in the corners like the edge of the sky
Even if appearance is just a lie
Something behind the confines of your soft blue stare shook my soul awake inside

It's only time and a name we can't carry through
But this beautiful shape, we'll never lose
Our hearts are already too intricately intertwined
And if even if those bonds bend they'll always be realigned  

So I’ll picture the way your head feels on my chest until it all goes black
With the hope that the moment I see you again it all comes flooding back
Even if my mind can never find the time we stayed up all night studying the way our bodies can burn
I’ll stain my soul with pictures of fire and bones until I find you all over again and learn

So slow down….please
Sit down with me and watch the sunset
It doesn’t matter which one of us it’s for
Let’s just watch it end

And then ripple throughout the pond
Creating waves big and small that stretch on and on
Through different times and spaces across different lives and places
Until all the movement comes back together in the middle
And I can remember every first time I saw your face

Even if we can’t stay right here in this moment
I’m not quite sure that means we have to forget
Let’s carve memories into our hearts and fingertips
So that the next time they meet they’ll know exactly where each finger fits

And even if I can’t stay right here with you in this song
I’m not quite sure that means I have to be gone too long
So come find me when you fall asleep
I promise to leave the lights on in case it’s too dark to see

I’ll shout so loud my voice will echo across the ages
So that when the sound bounces back the octave changes
And even though my words occupy a voice you’ve never heard
I promise you’ll remember the song’s words

But I can’t promise this won’t hurt
And that our hearts will always be able to mend
I can only promise that each time the tide resets
I’ll make my way to shore and find you again

Someway
Someplace
Someday
Spoken word version I recorded: https://soundcloud.com/connor-c-blake/ripple

Time, space, age, distance, race, class, gender, separation, hate . They're all illusions. Round and round we go. No matter the life, you and I are fated to find each other. Again and again. I'll see you again on the other side.

.
Connor C Blake Sep 2014
Intellect without emotion, someone told me once. That's how they described me.  That I had more wit and sarcastic charm than I could ever need, and yet I  couldn't do anything meaningful with it because I lacked anything real…..like empathy, selflessness…or love.  I was the cleverest robot in the world.

The truth is I do have emotion. Bounds of it.  It pours out of me through cracks I forgot to seal when I walled myself in.  And any attempt it makes to grow a garden is flooded by preemptive rain clouds, conjured up by a self imposed reality wherein the world sees my face in the daylight for what it really is and burns down my garden anyway.

I am no robot, I just hide behind cold metal plates and careful calculations, as if I could possibly predict consequences to chances I never take, moves I never make, and broken down walls I never break. So that the outcome is that i'm the loneliest, cleverest robot in the world, who discarded his humanity for a safety net and a bottle of cheap thrills, a bottle he uses as a telescope to see the rest of world because it looks better through the glass.
Connor C Blake Sep 2014
I once set sail to a shipwreck and no one’s heard back from me yet.

Whether or not this storm can be weathered, my torn sails and bruised masts will be seen fighting the futile.
And whether or not I can come back from this, I won’t dock at familiar shores for a while.

This salty shame-filled seawater may as well be the blood that flows so reluctantly through my veins because inside it all feels the same and at least then I could give the ocean some of this blame.

I’m still made of rotten wood and rusted nails,
I just got better at sinking.

But I’m tired of throwing buckets of salt water over my head hoping I don’t slip,
So maybe I’ll take a break from going down with the ship.

So maybe I can take note from the tide and change.
Because I'm so ******* tired of trying to figure out how I wound up on this page.

Blame it on bad luck, blame it on love, blame it on god,  blame it on the price of a new heart, blame it on a bad start, blame it on the ******* weather,
But even as the water rises, I can still hear the echoing lament of a would-be sailor,
“I swear I can be better.”
Live performance: https://soundcloud.com/connor-c-blake/sail
Connor C Blake Jan 2016
Soft padded sheets with a chalk-white fade
Contours from repeated pressure illustrating a familiar shape

Indented rivets in the overused cushion where you tried to hide
Red-turned-brown spots dried, markers of where you failed to keep it inside
Timid stains of salty moisture once fallen from your eyes
Now just a faded gravestone to the bliss simplicity brought before your fight died

Deaf ears and the pleas that pass through their shallow halls
But the sound changes octaves as it bounces off the thin beige walls
And so it echoes unheard as it falls
One too many close calls to accept the sound that emulates from it all

Trembling bones under heavy skin clutching the bed-frame with an iron grip
Second only to the pressure your upper teeth have on your lower lip

Revolving doors unhinged, flooding your thoughts as they race
Tired eyes stay bolted open, not recognizing the shape of your own face
in the jagged glass that now lays fractured and stained from the image you tried to replace
But it still didn't go away
“This is it,” you say

Cavernous holes,
Once whole,
Now just hollow shells you used to call home
Empty of all heart and all hope

And you brace for the hit, the moment where it finally all goes black
And the silence will finally answer back,
telling you you've ****** it up, it's all rotted through, you didn't fight hard enough and now you're done

And every single time you're still surprised when that moment never comes
And despite the tremors and daggers, your stubborn heart carries on

So find the narrow sliver of air where reality and your mind meet
And take in all the oxygen like it isn’t always free
There isn’t much too it,
You just put your head down and breathe

Because if there’s only one thing of which you can be sure
It's that these souls were designed to endure

And "this too shall pass" will become true once more

Let your heart and its resting pace made amends
Once the shaking stops you can finally stand
And wear that smile until courage finds you again

Somewhere inside you always knew this isn’t how it ends.
Tried to verbalize in prose my some of my experience of one of the many panic attacks from my dark days of recovery just locked inside my bedroom.

.It's sloppy and incoherent, but then so too is anxiety, so maybe it works.
Connor C Blake Oct 2014
I never realized it would come down to this

Walking on eggshells like broken bottles
Praying my hand won’t clutch down on the throttle
Cause between the other side and I is only a mile
And all my second chances lie in the corner stacked in a pile

Often enough, I visit these ghosts and ask if I can stay awhile
And despite the fact that their intentions are as transparent as their torsos,
Sometimes I can’t see through their smile

When ‘scared shitless’ is an understatement
And the best part of this day was just surviving this day
Hope seems to find its way out when you can’t
But always leaves a note explaining why it couldn’t stay

So I’ll continue to let myself hate

You told me I could be so much better
And wouldn’t have to wait until night to embark
Well some shadows are darker than others
And you aren’t the one with eyes that glow in the dark

Because hiding my fangs is the closest thing to love I’ve ever met
And when you tell me you love me,
Regrets fire through my head like shotgun blasts carrying a threat
They say, “You don’t love me, you just don’t hate me yet”

And I don't want you to hate me

So yeah I still sleep with one eye open
But I’m also awake with one eye shut
And I’m living with one foot in the grave
But dying with one hand digging it’s way up

I’d be happy to die a martyr
Anything not to die alone
And I’d be happy to walk a little bit farther
If I knew I was almost home

But instead my heart keeps beating on in spite of itself like a broken wind-up doll waiting for the timer to run out
And finally catch a good night’s sleep

But a good night’s sleep
Is harder to find when you’re six feet deep
Just praying to god the bell actually rings
And someone above somewhere is actually listening

But they aren’t
At least I don’t believe they are

So I’ll hold my breath and hope
Hope god didn’t give the noose the strength to hold its iron grip around my throat
And wait for the air to find its way back into my lungs
In the meantime, studying the way the rope is strung

And I’m afraid to change
But I think I’m more afraid of staying the same

So I’ll move to the edge and etch a sketch
To remind myself it’s less about how far you can reach
And more about how far you’re willing to stretch.
Know that now is only a moment, and that if today is as bad as it gets, understand that by tomorrow, today will have ended.
Connor C Blake Oct 2014
So far, so good.
Just keep a grip on this ship and don’t let the mast tip
Don't slip on the salty deck and make sure the sails don't rip

So far, so good.
Try to keep the fire inside
Board up the rotten walls to your burning heart and give ‘normal’ a try

So far, so good.
Keep your eyes closed so they can’t them glowing in the dark
Keep your mouth shut so they can’t see your tongue trying to light a spark
Keep your toes pointed straight so they can’t see your restless feet trying to embark
Keep your fist clenched so they can’t see your carefully controlled rage falling apart

So far, so good.
Find an anchor you believe in
Find a cause you can weave in
Find a savior you can breathe in

So far, so good.
Stand up, not out
Believe in, don't doubt
Listen quietly, don’t shout

So far, so good.
Don’t tell them why they’re so afraid of the light
Take the food from the hand, don’t bite
Don’t bruise knuckles against the pavement putting up a fight

So far, so good….right?
They are the "they".  Let's be the "we".
Connor C Blake Jan 2015
There are still bad days.

Days where it’s easy to forget that a world exists outside my bedroom.

Days where the moments in-between each breath feel like an unmapped ocean and no one’s really sure if there’s land on the other side.

Days where I’m not sure if there will be other days.

Days where the calendar smiles coldly and says, “yeah, you wish.”

Days where I’m not always able to keep the fire inside.

Days where I burn.
And get burned.

There are still bad days. And I’ve seen better days. But I’ve also seen days a hell of a lot worst.

So I’ll limp my way through the bad days with a bucket of water for my burning heart and an extra roll of duck tape for my tattered appendages

Because at least now there can be good days.

Days where I can look gravity in the face and stand up straight.

Days where I remember my name. Sometimes I even say it out loud.

Days where I can let the dust settle on the noose.

Days where I remember why I didn’t go quietly.

Days where I can see it.

Days where my eyes wander upwards and the sky almost looks like it did before it fell down on my head.

Days where I pick up the needle and find another part of myself to sew back on.

Days where I think about other days, and what they’ll be like when they get here.

Days that I love.
And am loved.

So yeah, I’ve seen better days, but I’m getting better in the face of the bad days.

Because I don’t lack the vision, it’s the method that I always seem to misplace.

But I think I’ll be able to hold onto it...
one of these days…
Hold on to that pain, kid. You're gonna need it.
Connor C Blake Sep 2014
I dig deep
For some hidden hope
To find the strength I've always had
When I was up against the ropes

Because that’s exactly where I’ll be
As I'm running away
To the only dream
That’s kept me mentally sane

I'm finding an escape
From the people around me
And the day to day life
That creates my boundary

I’ll find a place
Where I can hear my own voice
And it won’t be distorted
By the societal noise

I’ll climb each step
Ignoring the blood on my hands
And distance myself
From that which fears what it can’t understand

And now that I'm here
I’ll find what sets me apart
From a white picket fence
And a little green yard

The American dream
Might be a safe aspiration
But what does it become
When it drowns the dreams of its nation?

So I’ll escape into the truth
And leave my chains behind
So they can see what it means
To be truly alive

I’ll sit on a hilltop
And watch the lives they all lead
Working jobs they hate
to buy **** they don’t need

being ordinary
is the addiction they feed
as they smile coldly
and say **** they don’t mean

one morning they’ll wake up
and see the hole in their chest
and realize they made up
all this nonsense

but they’re not bad people
they just never learn
cause on their way to the top
they’d watch the world burn

and instead of trying to extinguish
these self-mutilating fires
they’ll turn their heads
to their frivolous desires

but I’m still searching
for the bigger picture
because maybe if I find it
I can hang it on my refrigerator

So I wont forget
Because I need to remember
As my story settles down
Into the pages of forever

But all I feel
Is my judgment slip away
As black and white
Fade into shades of gray

And all I feel
Is the hypocrisy settle in
As I see myself
Committing the same sins

So I’ll resign to the life
Of a numbing vaccine
And continue trying
to put out my fire with gasoline

I’d positioned myself
Away from it all
But now prepared
For the inevitable fall

My knees start to tremble
My skin feels colder
as the weight of the world
bears down on my shoulders

my front foot slips
and the back one slides
and I fall into the hole
I dug with my pride

and all I see
is the faces I left behind
and suddenly that hope I’m looking for
........
is much harder to find…
The First Poem I Ever Wrote when I was 17
Connor C Blake Sep 2014
I’m a thief.

A criminal mastermind vying for all the affections of dead poets and living sociopaths

Watching flesh fall off of my fingertips and flutter to the floor.
Sewing on new skin like armor until a foreign face meets my eyes and smiles back

I’m in a perpetual state of identity crisis. I’m here and I’m there and I’ve be down while looking up and vice versa so many times
And so now my sense of direction has long rotted away and I’m left on my hands and knees sorting through the scattered remnants of me

And through it all, the rise and fall of an infinite wave whose name can be cleverly modeled on the back of a pill bottle, I still look down to the faded ink of a long-lost letter
It reads; “I swear I can be better”

And just when I look up to the moon for a cue on the tide’s change,
an anchor pulls me away and prepares my flooded lungs for another sorrow soaked day
So I guess I’ll stay

See, even now, schizophrenia might be preferable because at least then I could give the voices in my head a name and shed some of this blame on someone else

The only thing I really have left is my name

And even that is melting out through cracks in my closed fist because I held it too tightly against my burning heart 
Somewhere inside I always knew it belonged to someone else from the start

But I stole it.
Connor C Blake Jan 2020
We are blood.
Our veins run red and thick
with oceans of each other.
Our hearts are linked electrically with velvet wires.
And for every ounce we spill with hate,
There’s hundreds more we give away.
We choose to give ourselves to one another.
Until the imaginary lines between us
Begin to blur and then fade.
We live in houses made of one another.
And in this way we cannot die,
Only move.
And should my cells move into you
I think that’d be okay too.
Connor C Blake Sep 2014
In the end we’re all the same
Just wandering around trying to find a comfortable cage
Trading one set of bars for another, hoping the nagging voices in our heads go away
We all just want somewhere warm to stay

We’re all the sum of broken hearts and fresh starts
We’ve all known the peace of living in our sleep
Stitching what it is we believe on our sleeve so we can read it back to ourselves and find the courage to continue to breathe
We’re all taped together by the same dreams

We all check the weather forecast, trying to figure out whether or not this is a storm we can weather
Slapping bumper stickers on our pain like band-aids that read “it gets better”

We’re all the sum of everyone else
Picking and choosing our skins
Like a Frankenstein-created chameleon
We all wish we could just blend in

The bonds of affection never die
But we all hope if we build our white picket fences high enough they’ll stay inside
Avoiding each other trying to figure out why we were even given a sense of touch
We all use our fear as a crutch

We all cast ourselves towards the same sun hoping our shadows won’t show
Looking over our shoulders only to see our skeletons in tow
We all wish there was somewhere else for this regret to go

We all bleed the same fervent fear
Trying desperately to keep the fire inside praying no one will hear
We’re all held together by the same hope that morning is near


In the end we’ve all committed the same crimes
We’ve all divided ourselves by the same imaginary lines
We’ve all believed the same lies
We’ve all been living off the same borrowed time
In the end...we're all going to die

But we all hope we can say we tried.
There's a reason for all of this. There has to be a reason for all of this.

— The End —