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Red Jul 2018
force my hand to speak words I don't mean
I cannot surrender feeling to a cause I do not care for
paragraphs fade my enthusiasm
like impatience for another's child
a minimum of respectful observance
an obligation with the refusal of commitment
appreciation does not equal replication
I fear my knowledge deteriorates
any remaining interest rots away
even as you recite new lines
my eyes are reading not receiving
auto-erasing traces of empathy
reciting simile upon simile  
my heart does not care for sonnets or haikus
I want to feel raw like words written
but my ecstasy of another's emotion
holds no feeling when dissected
the sacred art of expression
picked apart and prodded
like my disinterested answers
my brain groans at your analytical stare
feel my speech not the technique

I know your motives as I know mine
I see value in soul you see value in rhyme
hi yes for some reason I hate English but love the act of writing and poetry; this is not to say English is unimportant or unuseful, this is more of a musing towards how I feel about the way it is taught in said lessons. As selfish as my thoughts are, all I wish you take from this is to teach others with emotion as opposed to cold stiffness and clinical questions.
Red Jul 2018
force fed lies from birth
subliminal messages infest my upbringing
blindfolded by greed
I don't see you starve
or smell the pollution
I can't hear the bullets flying
because my ears are stuffed with lies
they say the government has my interests at heart
that the school systems are built to support me
and we're more equal than ever
so why is the wage gap wider than my young eyes
and how is it that a country that screams freedom
won't put down their weapons
when their children are bleeding
why do I know how to dissect a frog
ignorant of the fact innocent civilians are slaughtered
intestines on display
like the green amphibian under my knife
because I can kiss a girl
in a drunken game of spin the bottle
but such an act would get me killed in 11 countries
and is still illegal in 72
why do I know the sum of internal angles in a triangle
yet I don't know how
to read the signs of suicidal friends
when statistically 1 out of 5 people I roam the halls with
struggle with a mental illness
even though more than half of those suffering
have no access to treatment
we are collectively clueless
I am no stranger to privilege
my gratitude is not withheld
but why am I more worthy
than the child forced out of his country
for his religious identity,
for being himself?
why when accessing the privilege of education
they don't teach me how to help other humans
when did sums become more important
than knowledge of current wars
did you know there's more than 10 of them?
because I've only heard of one
I believe that you choose to do nothing
but if i am never aware that I have a choice
nothing can change
and even though everyone has a voice
people with the solutions only choose to hear those with a status
how is it that such screams of desperation
sound so quiet to them
why are those in power of whole countries
so blind to our demands
why do they make things impossibly easier
for those whom already have wealth and advantage
when those stripped of human rights
always seem to escape their greedy sight
but some of us have something they fear
something that never crossed their closed minds
we have the power to create our own opportunities
we can force those whom are voluntarily deaf to hear
so hear me in my passage only seen by very few
this platform may be small but my words shout at you
an action no matter how small
a voice no matter how soft
provokes change if not in yourself
then in even the most unfamiliar faces
but the difference between thinking and action making
is you
Red Jul 2018
I despise myself
and every selfish molecule in my body
my own traitorous flesh
clings to my rotted soul
with such strong emotion
but I can't pin the source
living in shame and guilt
trapped here by the speculation of others
secretly yearning for your validation
just to know I'm worth
a smile or a second glance
but to expect the best is to receive the worst
so I'll never lift my head to check
I'd rather doubt you than hope to death

whats worse than losing someone you love?
knowing there's no one you love to lose you.
Red Jul 2018
You are a complication
a welcomed conundrum
our passion is mutilation
your desire a dungeon

The dilemma of us
a selfish cycle
a vendetta of trust
soft touch feels spiteful

Inevitable tragedy
so deliciously inviting
a seductive catastrophe
are we loving or fighting

my heavy mind
dragged behind me
a devilish heart
out to blind me

Love me problematically
I accept your burden
adore me traumatically
bittersweet like my bourbon

so torture me until I smile




: )
we always seem to love the people we're not supposed to
Red Jul 2018
I curse alcohol whilst drunk
but return to the bottle each night
empty promises to myself
words spoken yet action avoided

I only loathe drugs when high
but every morning i itch for another hit
another blurred emotion
a charade of self respect
only presenting itself during my sinful indulgences

I'm self rightous when i return to your bed
claims of my higher standing
announced only when you lay ontop of me
every other second i spend thirsty for your attention

My thoughts chant lies when guilty
repeating the exaggeration of my worth
******* speeches to myself
calms my hypocritical nerves

My concious is trying to save me from my own judgement
creating temporary insight to make me feel adequate
but thoughts are not real words let alone real actions
they count for nothing
only fulfilling my own desire to feel worth more than i am
Red Jul 2018
shamefully hidden in skin
my bones are pins and needles
heart of television static
discomfort ****** upon me from first breath

take back my cage of flesh
it rusts around my soul
twists my fears into reality
trapped with my self doubt

i seek validation in your being
pray for our old infatuation
instead of this sick rivalry
who can suffer the most

wounds barley scabbed over
picked and proded until detrimental
intestines piled on cold concrete
stomach safety pinned together

rip open my world again
glide your blade peacfully through me
your weapons are welcomed
it's easier to be hurt by you
than to learn and leave
Red Jun 2018
i am
an abundance of mass
a glob of tasteless matter
destructivly silent
my chaos likes chatter

mumbling tumbling words in my head
toppled over one another
emotions kick each other dead

inner thoughts are attempted murders
crimes against myself
logic speaks but they havent heard her
i plead that you save yourself

there are tiny workers inside my mind
they chip away at my normality
my fight with them is blind
pick axes gouge me with brutaility

there is only so much of me left
where is my god, my mercy
morally this carnage is theft
my own exsistence a controversy

mental illness's mental workers
climb around my brain
but if I ever told you that
you'd think I'm more insane
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