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I don't hate you
I won't hate you
You love me
I trust you

With every drop of liquor, your senses corrode and fail
You can't say a sentence without littering letters across the room
You couldn't give me a hug on my birthday yesterday
You don't know what you've done to this family

Your fall from grace must have been humiliating
Mum says you used to be the kindest man in the world
But thats long gone
I can't recall a night you didn't drink yourself blackout drunk

You are a conflicted topic to my mind
You provide everything I could ever ask for physically
But mentally I am starved of your affection and care
Just because you're nicer to me than my siblings doesn't help

I can't seem to help my forgiveness of others
You included
I will never understand why I choose to let you stomp over my life
But I won't let you do that to my children, you won't have that chance

I'd like to say many things to you
Like how the ******* can talk to my mother like that
You disgraceful sloppy shadow of a fading human image
Did it hurt to hit rock bottom, or was it like the alcohol bottles?
Empty.

I hate you
I hate you
You love me
I love you
Henry Fry May 23
The brittle oak legs hold up my taut canvas
They have endured years of feelings without buckling
And here they stand, facing me, asking me
When will you stop?

The splintered paintbrush drips colour on the soil beneath me Unwavering in the palm of my hand, it stays steady, solid
Yet it groans under the pressure of my fingers
Crying out for mercy with every stroke.

The canvas calls, beckoning my delivery of mind and heart
It whispers calm claims of serenity and peaceful hours
Whilst these are compelling words
There's only one use it can give to me.

The paint dries in the southern sun, untouchable but delicate
A portrait so realistic, only her stillness betrayed her
She gazes at me with lapis coloured eyes that don't move
If only I could recall who she was.

The memory of her explodes in my mind like a carpet bomb
But it's stripped away just as soon, ripped from my fingers
A crystalline tear cascades as I pummel the bare sod with fury
But until I remember again,

The brittle oak legs shake violently under my taut canvas.
The bent paintbrush leaks paint onto the soil beneath me.
The canvas whispers, beckoning my delivery of tears and anger.
The paint drips in the moonlight, distorted and warped.
Henry Fry May 22
i told myself i wouldn't do it again
but its luxurious cries penetrate my feeble mind
the loud tearing of my willpower echoes across me
i taste the blissful ignorance of my dying bodie once more

i know better than anyone its bad for me
i wouldnt write about it on a public site if i didnt
maybe thats what the true meaning of poetry is
to escape your problems and thoughts by passing them on

is this going to be who i am?
am i going to succumb to the death of my instincts?
or will i triumph, will i end my path of self medication
Because I won't let another person see the small mistakes I make.

I can cover what makes me look terrible from an outside point of view,
but I could also revitalise my strength of mind and willpower.
I know what I must do, and my decision is unwavering.
Never again will satanic cries torment my spirit, for I am with God.

and his strength will convert my imperfections to glorious details in his light
Henry Fry May 15
I won't ever let you escape from my brain
You're bound to my mind, pulled tough and restrained
A mere trace of your scent I won't ever forget
Not saying I love you is my biggest regret

I miss you dearly, your laughter, your perfume, your face
I missed you even more when you went to your mums place
Reeking of *****, I was always drunk and rude
But it was always forgiveness instead of sued

Looking back on our past it's clear to see
That you were the only women meant for me
The only way to see you once more is to pull it
So I can't wait to eat dinner with you, after I eat this bullet
TW: Suicide
Henry Fry Apr 17
Dear clouds
Get out of the way

I can't feel the warmth of the sun when you seperate us
I can't see the beauty of the moon when its behind you
Why do you choose to obstruct such amazing monuments
You must be trying to take the spotlight away from them

But is it really your fault
That you get pulled along with the winds of endless time
Do you really choose to ruin our scenic view
Or is it unlucky fate that draws you to infamy

Should we judge anything that can't control its fate
If it's not up to them what their actions outcome is
But then, who should we have to blame
The real question is, why should we need to blame someone

But until we answer that, we will judge the clouds
Unfair assumptions will plague its image
It's in our instinct to point the finger at something
Until we can change.
Henry Fry Feb 12
Break a leg
Break an arm
Sacrifice for others is admirable
But sacrifice for personal gain is greediness

Tomorrow, most of us will wake up
Some will drift into the endless chasm of hell
Some will float towards the pearlescent gates of heaven
But all of us will continue to move

But how much would you sacrifice for that reality?
It's easy to call another man selfish for chasing his own dreams
And leaving the rest in his wake
But if another helped you up, would you risk your life for others too?

Or would you keep the life someone sacrificed for you to have.
Henry Fry Feb 12
Anger will manipulate you into hurting others
Sadness will drag you into the murky lake with it
Jealousy will consume your morality and self image
Laziness will give you too much time for pleasure

Now it feels, that everything is out to bite you
You may think they have complete control over you
However, you have a choice
A choice to fight back against negativity

Stand up, dust yourself off my friend
I hope you choose to prove negativity wrong
Fight for what you love, and stay true to yourself
Don't leave your spirit waiting for you.
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