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H Phone Mar 2018
I remember that one poem I wrote
I felt like my brick for a heart it could erode
But reading what came after makes me sick
Because this raw emotional poem’s contents
Have turned into a ******* gimmick
I want to feel.
H Phone Mar 2018
I wish I was strong
I wish I was strong enough to get out from under the comfort of my sheets
Or the warm water washing over my body in the shower
I wish I was strong enough to open my books,
Instead of listening to the same five songs again
I wish I was strong enough to get over a loss,
Be it a failed exam or a boss I can’t beat in a video game
I wish I was strong enough to help my friends
Because that's the person I strive to be
I wish I was strong enough to keep that job

I wish I was strong enough to like my own works
But it’s hard to when they look like this
No rhyme scheme or metaphors
Only thing this poem has got going for itself is that repeating stanza
Real clever or whatever
You call it slam poetry
But you might as well call it sham poetry
Slam poetry
Because you need to be slammed drunk to enjoy your poems
And don’t even pretend like you didn’t notice
How no one seems to give a **** about this
This series of ‘works’ that you’ve been putting out
Where all you do is ******* swear and shout
At yourself
******* hell

I bet your last line would have been
“I wish I was strong enough to love myself.”
Boo ******* hoo
Too ******* bad
Because you’ll only love me the moment you realize
That what I say is true
I’m not gonna say that I’m only rude
Because I love you
I hate your guts too
much for something so…
You’re a bit of a sentimental, right, boo?
If sentimental meant pushover

Sorry, didn’t mean to scare
Oh wait, no, I don’t really care
Because even you’re aware
How you’ve locked yourself in an echo room
And the moment someone tries to break through…
“Don’t worry, I can take it.”
And then you write something edgy like this
You can’t take advice for ****
Because that’s your ******* deal
You’ve got tonnes of people giving you the advice that you need to heal
And you ignore every single one of them
Acquaintances, friends, family
And what about me?

But It’s pointless anyway
You’re on auto-pilot already
Just cut the act and write your cringy addendum poem
We’re done here
H Phone Mar 2018
I record my thoughts like a diary
I do so in the form of poetry
And I read through them a lot, you see?
To remind myself of these feelings

I don’t think that’s healthy
Keeps the doctor away?
H Phone Mar 2018
Rationality over heart
My brain is always on guard
Big Brother is real
And he controls how I feel
A platoon on patrol
One parole
Control my soul
Fill a hole
How did that hole even get there?

Any runaway feeling is immediately detained
Used to entertain
An audience
What audience?
It’s just me
As I’m forced to see
How my sadness is instructed to do a dance
Like a circus animal
My anger gets beaten with a baton
No one bats an eye
There is no one
It’s almost comical
I’m the one hosting this show, aren’t I!?
Did I forget to send the invites?
Why else go through the motions of setting this up?

Sometimes, I feel like happiness is the only one I can trust
Every once in a while I look over my shoulder
Force of habit
And it’s like nervousness overtakes it
“Don’t worry about me,
Just, uhm, get excited!
About this new game
Or the name
Of the new person you just met!”
Encouraged, I jump in, face first
Getting ahead
Of myself
Only to be stopped dead
In my tred
Who am I faking this for?
Do I want to be seen as random or positive or…
A special snowflake perhaps
Why am I obsessed with the concept of faking a smile?
I’ll just take a walk for a while…

Sometimes I wonder how that looks
A hooded figure through the woods
Head cast to the ground
Accompanied by the sound
Of a deep sigh
Bouncing of against the night-
ly sky
And another one
And another one
Do I look edgy yet?
I bet
People are wondering “what’s up with that kid?”
Just the way I like it

And then, in the most meta of ways
I become aware of this play
This ploy
A decoy
For my lack of personality?
Just who exactly is to blame?

He sits atop a throne
All alone
Keeping everything in suspension
And he commands just one thing:
The title only makes sense when you read the last word of the poem...
H Phone Mar 2018
This poem was supposed to my outlet
On a day that’s been going like ****
Why is it then that I can’t hit
That sweet spot and just
******* LOSE IT
I want to feel again what I felt when writing Breathe...
H Phone Mar 2018
Walking under the street lights
I’m losing the will to fight
Head cast upward, I sighed
To the gaping maw of this oppressive night
I reflect on a day that has no reflection
My mirror has turned into a black cloth
Absence of light
Absence of fight
Absence of
Because I lost myself to today
And the day before that
And the day before that
And the day before that
Can someone please ******* find me!?

Because I’ve been listening to this voice
Mindless jumbles of letters and noise
Words materialize and disappear
And all I can ******* hear
Is give up
Give up
Give up
And I’m sick of it!
I want to hear someone tell me it’s alright
I want someone to encourage me to take flight
And yet here I stand tonight,
Alone with no one by my side
No one except this snarky ****
Thinks he’s smart
Striking me where it hurts
Tearing me apart

First your studies that you’re failing
When’s the last time you opened a book?
You’ve been playing a lot of games, friend
And even that, from you, I took
What? You’re mad you don’t enjoy them anymore?
Wasn’t adversity what you always wanted?
A challenge
But now it’s too much?
Jeez, lighten up and enjoy it, it’s fine
I’m sure you’ll ******* get him next time

How about that job?
How’s that been going down?
What’s the matter, little fella?
What’s up with that frown?
A one way ticket to adult land
Only thing left to do is drive a car
Now you wish you had it in you to learn
So that you could drive far
From the sickening disappointment that you are
You have exactly as much drive
as you’re doing in your life
Cook a comfort meal and wash the tears out of your clothes
Oh wait, nevermind, ask your mom to help you with that

Not mad yet?
Then lemme strike you where I know it’ll sting
Some of your closest friends
A plea of death, they sing
“I’ll be there for you.”
“You can trust me with anything.”
You can’t handle this for ****!
You say this worthless crap
Because deep inside you can’t wrap
Your head around the fact that there’s nothing you can do
Because everything you say will make it worse
You’ll get pity thanks at most
“At least I tried”,
it sounds
Until someone dies
And it’ll haunt you till the end of times
If you can even still feel anything at ******* all
You’ll probably just forgive and forget
It’s what you do best
Give it a week and you won’t remember them anymore
Befitting of a ******* *******, like you

And then there’s this worthless poem
That you’re putting on the paper
I know what you’re trying to do, friend
“Last time went so well.”
“Those words, I really felt!”
You’re trying to get mad again, aren’t you?
How’s that been working out, boo?
Have my words been able to wound
Or are you just getting frustrated over your
complete inability to emote
When’s the last time you cried?
When’s the last time you got mad?
When’s the last time you felt?
This ain’t one of those times,
I know my stuff
Just ******* stop trying
And give up.
My day hasn't gone particularly well...
H Phone Mar 2018
Sitting on a putrid mess
Of solitude and homesickness
I wish I had someone to which I could shout
But hey, look at it from the bright side, friend:
At least you can finally breathe out.
A continuation of my previous poem...
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