If there’s Heaven and there’s Hell,
show me where I belong.
And if my place is not in either,
help me burn them down.*
I.
I don’t know where we’re going or what we are
or who we are and I don’t know the right questions to
ask; and even if I knew I wouldn’t know the answers
and I wouldn’t know anyone who could actually provide
an explanation for why it is all like it is. I am insane
and maybe you too are and we stand on shores but
my shore is not your shore and is there even water
on these shores and why am I drowning. I think
I’m underwater and maybe we all feel like we’re dying
or like we’re already dead. I just understand that
learning how to swim and how to breathe and how
to live are the things my parents did not teach me
and all I feel is salty air but my lungs are decrepit
and how do I take a breath when the air is full of poison –
the one you’re emitting and the one I’m emitting,
and aren’t we all just so toxic?
So I’m knee-deep into water but I cannot force
my lungs to work, and I’m waist-deep into water
but they still don’t work; and now my body is
feelingless and floating and I don’t know
how to live. Do you? Does any of us?
So we just let go there on the shore;
it’s sanity and it’s stability and it’s safety all gone.
I knew all the answers but then I grew up
and so did you.
We were metaphors and the world spun around
so now we are just malaphors and we’re ****** up.
How do I explain to you, to anyone that I am drowning
even when I can swim and that I am dead, my eyes
reflect the light; they do not shine, I have a pulse,
I breathe but I’m so not alive
and I am drowning ashore, I am away from the water
and still underneath waves that crush my fragile skeleton
and make me crumble to dust.
I used to be a metaphor but I’m a malaphor now
and I will burn that bridge when I get to it.
That is, if I haven’t yet drowned.
II.
I lie on the floor and boards are creaking and what is
wrong with me and with us and with everyone.
The dog is howling and there’s a silent cat but he’s
not chasing her and she is tired of chasing mice so she
just wants to die but the dog cannot bite and I keep lying
with snakes wrapped around my limbs and I am poison
and I ache. When did friendships become all about lies
and deceit and manipulation? When did I lose myself
in the world of masks? When did it all become about
sexsexsexSEX? Why is it all about who ***** whom
and why do we all want to die? When did we realise
that suicide is a way and how did we find out?
I hear noises and I drown in music and I scream
until my throat hurts and my lungs ache and I
keep thinking WHEN DID I DIE and why
is there no God, I need redemption and don’t we
all crave to be forgiven? I cut, you cut, we cut,
it’s not grammar, it’s life, we don’t do it for attention,
they all cut and we all cut, don’t we, with rusty little
blades ripping ourselves open, letting the pain flow
like red rivers on the floor and we think it’s okay
to carry our scars not like badges and medals of honour
but like shameful reminders of how useless and
worthless we are, and we cut hipbones and thighs
and we cut between ribs and we scratch and bleed
and drown in pure, unbound hatred that comes
straight from our vicious poisoned hearts
and we cut where it can’t be seen because just too many
questions that we’re not willing to face. And we all
write poems about how we want to slit out veins
open, how we want to slay our wrists and crumble and
diedieDIEDIEDE. Why do we want to die, why are we
the ****** up generation who thinks about ****** and solecisms
half of the time and death and virginity and self-hatred and
how our lives mean absolutely nothing?
When did we grow up and become so bitter
and when did our time in the bath become the time when
we want to drown and trains were fun once but now we
want to jump in front of one and trees are not where we
play but where we want to hang ourselves and we
want to jump from cliffs and all we want to do
is **** and die and die and ****, and we were kids
but now we’re not and we’re not adults so who are we?
We’re **** victims, we’re names crossed out, we’re
eulogies and pills and death notes and we want to be
over, why and when and how did the world
**** us up?
We’re caffeine-driven and we do drugs and we’re
all addicted to sadness and addicted to death and addicted to
hatred and we mostly hate us.
We starve ourselves until we can’t stand upright, we starve
until we can see the outlines of our cages and still think
it is not enough, or we eat and we purge and why did we
decide that we wanted to die?
Because we do. I used to be a metaphor
but I’m a malaphor nowand I will burn that bridge when I get to it.
That is, if I haven’t yet drowned.
III.
I want to hold your hand, just hold it and feel you with me
wrapped around and safe and home. I want to kiss your
lips and bite your neck and drown in your eyes,
I want us to **** and make sweet love and sing and
smoke and get drunk, I want us to roll on the floor
laughing and find ourselves on our backs with the wooden
boards underneath us and tears in our eyes, but from happiness
and not this constant sadness, I want love to mean something,
I want to be yours and you to be mine, regardless of gender,
regardless of age, love must be love.
I want us to eat ice cream and pizza and junk food
or healthy food or any food and not be judged and I
want us to live and to love and I want us to
look in the mirror and face our reflections and not
hate what we see, and this is it, this is us.
Do me do me do me, let me be your drug,
get high with me, get high on me, we’re greatness,
we’re power, we’re supreme. We can will it away,
we are who we wish to become, we rise and reign, we
shine and we are stars, we’re supernovas we bring down
kingdoms and we crown ourselves with thorns and twigs,
we’re rulers of ruins and ashes, we burn down temples, we
want to be the best but we think we’re the worst so we
just fake it, fake it all but we are all just galaxies with
potential that is not yet unleashed, we can burn bright if
we only learn how to, we need to learn how to live without
willing to die; we need to learn how to love ourselves first
before we love others and we need to stop hating
and we have scars that might never heal again but can’t we
just accept plain truths and bandage ourselves and move on?
But we some cigarettes and we breathe out the smoke or
we just keep it in our lungs until we burn and until we fall
apart and we’re just snowflakes that have turned to dust,
and we’re ashes that burn holes on the tips of others’
tongues, oh how I wish we could live without burning
scars, without causing pain, without withering away,
without crumbling, why can’t we, why do we all
so desperately want to die and drown and **** and die?
I used to be a metaphor but I’m a malaphor now
and I will burn that bridge when I get to it.
Oh how I wish I could love you and know you
would love me back but our world is so ****** up
and all we can ever do is leave gaping holes and
smoking wounds and salty tears and new ideas
how to die. Let’s change the world, or maybe not,
let’s just find meaning, or at least can we please
forever ever bring down Heaven and Hell
and learn to accept who we are. I used to be a metaphor
but I’m a malaphor now and I will burn that bridge when I get to it.
But then I’ll rebuild it and maybe this time
I will never ever drown.
And I will teach myself to swim and breathe
and live and love, I want to be a metaphor
one more simple and no longer lonely time.
i don't even know