Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
George Anthony May 2017
i keep playing this track.
haunting, ethereal tones and
piano keys striking softly, but with force.
there's an interlude of scrambling
like voices, like ghosts

like when i'd drift in that half state between
asleep and awake
in the back of the car, on the middle seat
during road trips to and from the south,
and my mother's voice
and the voice of another passenger
would mingle into background noise,
incomprehensible
but soothing like a lullaby

(i used to try and fade out of consciousness
on purpose
just to listen)

like a rewinding cassette in a horror movie
but i never feel scared
it feels like my mind has been
bled out
into music notes and sound waves.

it starts out so clear
but it just... falls apart
beautifully
whilst somehow sounding composed,
so much noise but
i feel quiet inside. i
want you to make me feel
quiet inside.
i think it might be that you already

do- something to me
you do something to me.
i haven't figured it out yet
just like i haven't figured out
what it is
that makes this track so alluring; it
seduces me
into sleeping with it, and waking with it
and going through hours of my day with it
and never once
do i get tired of it.

i wonder if i feel that way about you.
crush? i'm not twelve.
love? it's not that deep.
affection?
i feel affectionate towards you.
i hope it doesn't offend or disappoint you,
i'm grey-romantic, it's always
hit or miss
with me.

demi-romantic, too; but i don't think that's
an issue, here
i've come to know you
well enough
to think i'd be okay with kissing you
and holding your hands, and
when you talk about the things you like
i notice how i like them too,
and when you talk about the things you want,
i realise i want to give them to you

but i'm still unsure
if that's what i really want
or if that's what i think you deserve
and the two are
far more different than they seem.
just because they go hand in hand
that doesn't mean they can
step in for one another
like sugar in tea—i could never
swallow a spoonful of sugar
but i could swallow it
inside my drink.

this track is still playing and
you are still running
through my mind. the thought of you
now has its own soundtrack
because i wrote a poem
about you
to a sound i fell in love with, and now
i'm wondering

would it be possible to fall in love with you?
i think you have a crush on me
and i don't know how i feel
George Anthony Apr 2017
drawing, soft grey lines against off-white paper
scultping his face with delicate arcs,
the stroke that tells a story: an artist
that fell in love with their subject

that was the plan.

twelve of the longest minutes of my life
tipped half upside down,
face pressed into metal bars—no, not a metaphor
actual metal bars.

left arm wedged between body and bed,
heartbeat hammering in my throat
echoing in my head, pulse jumping
in my neck. stop

playing hop scotch at the hinge of my jaw

i remember the shape of your teeth,
passionate, possessive,
marking me as yours.
but here's the truth

as reality faded around me
save for the thrum of my existence
and the caress of piano notes,
i was alone. my own.

i've never belonged to myself more
than just there, half on my bedroom floor
dissociating from everything but
my scattered thoughts and

proof of the life in my veins
pumping and beautiful but
also ... pain, so much of it
acknowledging life and its fleetingness

swift and soft, that's how i want to go.
i lost myself to my own head for an hour
wondering if life is as grey and removable
as the carbon collected on off-white papers

huddled together between a fold of black leather,
a universe with a beginning and an end,
both are black and definite as each other
are we linear or rounded? are we exploding

every billionth year, a billion billion billion suns
burning so far away we have to call them stars—
maybe that's why you're my star light
and i'm the darkness you keep bright

and hopeful, maybe

this wasn't supposed to be a love poem
but it feels like one anyway
who are you? i don't know who i'm writing to
i just remembered

see, i dissociated again; i don't mean to forget you

"you can't think while you're faded"?
i'm telling you i can
can't move, can't live, but think?
i sure as hell can, sure as hell do, sure as hell

it's hell sometimes
though not tonight.
i didn't feel quite so turbulent,
listening to my bloodstream and

okay, there is a limit, i'll give you that
i admit i lost some time
i wish i'd lost myself in sketching but
i lost myself in my mind

i only knew it'd been an hour
by the time stamp on my timeline
who says social media is useless? not i
i know how many minutes slipped into the void

oh how i envy them,
thoughtless and forgotten and empty of feeling.
i'd take my brushes and paint me into the sky
if i thought it might take me to heaven

artist i am, fell in love with my muse
but my mind's a two timer,
slipping off to spend time with darkness
even as my heart screams in my chest

*"what about your star light? what about your life?"
This is a 2 AM, brain fogged mess.
George Anthony Apr 2017
how is anyone supposed to live like this?
some comfort a bed is when i'm alone and crying in it
when i'm alone and nauseated and i wouldn't mind dying in it
when i'm lying on a full bladder and i'd rather **** myself than move
when moving feels like too much commitment and i have commitment issues

was that gross? blunt? disgusting? does the idea of a grown man ******* the bed
make you sick to your well-fed stomach?
are you outraged that i gave a gory detail?
that i didn't romanticise the illnesses that drain the life out of me and leave me pale?
colourless, frail,
if i were a metaphor, i'd be the pallor of a dead man's skin
rotten and cold and withering from within

halsey's grey man has nothing on me
and my pills aren't blue, they're yellow and green
and it's been a little under two months but i swear they're not working
i've been sleepless and anxious and overthinking when i'm not dissociating
i guess this is an honesty "poem"—i put air quotes around that because i don't feel poetic
i could give you other "ic" words that would describe me much better
pathetic, apologetic, agnostic, pessimistic and ******* chronic

does it make you uncomfortable, reading this side of me?
brash and defeated and overwhelmingly ugly
get in line, darling, i'm uncomfortable every day
standing in front of the mirror and pulling at body parts and skin i wish i could throw away
swallowing down my dinner and consciously reminding myself
"the toilet bowl is not for food, that's no good for your health"
but god i wish i could halve myself, cut away everything that makes me wanna harm myself
and **** it, i won't lie — i didn't recover, just found a couple highs
i'm crashing hard now and you're **** right i wanna die

my mother might have cancer, didn't you know?
it's ******* awesome—note sarcasm—how even that can't get me geared up to go
i know i need to get paid; i beat myself up over being unemployed every ******* day
clearly you don't understand that i already have a job
my job title is depression and i'm slaving 'round the clock
my employer is generous, don't get me wrong
he wraps me up in duvet and keeps me warm all day long

i know it sounds isolated but don't worry, i'm an introvert! don't you know i thrive this way?
my mother all alone with her thoughts in the living room as my intrusive thoughts tear me apart
askjng, "what would you do if she died today?"
my friends getting on with their lives and probably not giving me a second thought
because how could they remember to when i've been locking myself indoors?
if seeing is believing then *******, i don't exist to them
doubting thomas doubts my existence and no amount of faith could ever make me real to him
the only person seeing me is myself and i'm not entirely sane
hey, who knows? maybe my entire life only exists inside my brain
maybe i could **** myself and nobody would feel any pain
George Anthony Apr 2017
prove yourself to me
and i swear i'll treat you better

i've proved myself to you
now it's time for you to return the favour

prove yourself to me
and i swear i'll learn to love

i've proved myself to you
i need you to show me that love is enough

prove yourself to me
remember everything i said

i've proved myself to you
and i remember everything you did

prove yourself to him
she comes first in my life

i've proved myself to you
i won't put anybody else above him

prove yourself to her
i've given love a second chance but he's my soulmate

i've proved myself to you
sometimes i believe i do deserve more

prove yourself to him
show her you're worthy of trust

i need to prove myself to her
because i feel like i failed him in being myself

i need to prove myself to him
i know she's tired and he's only looking out for me

i need to prove myself to her
i don't blame him if she's angry at me

prove yourself to him
i don't blame her for being angry at you

prove yourself to me
i'm angry at you, too
Next page