Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Arpeggios
Of imprisoned frustration,
Finally leaking out
In notes and tones so pure,
Steel strings.

Comfort.
She said my name.
I stared. I stared and stared.
One tear. Another. Bawling, weeping.

My true love; contact.

            11-17-13
So glad I can always escape to my dreams
Away from these people and away from these things,
Somewhere safer, unimaginable,
Somewhere where my cup isn't always full
     But at least it's happy.

I can get what I want from waking life,
By exploring my sleeping life,
The only problem is when I wake
I've kind of got a choice to make,
Is it better to live or better to let it pass,
     To sedate myself and live euphorias
     Or wake every day to the heartbreak, turmoil and inhumanities of the waking world.

I guess we'll see.
I see my nails scratch my wrist bare,
Exposing my veins and arteries,
My skin peels back, splits open.

I see nothing abnormal.
Does Prometheus enjoy his struggle,
Having tasked an eternity?
Every day
This sun rises
And shines light upon our mistakes.
Conglomerate of neat and nasty people.
Hydrogen doesn't care.
Blended my brain and my eyes roll back and see red
Purple every night to escape my head
It's death.

Intoxicating these toxic thoughts escapes them
I'm trapped and hated
And I can't make it.

I close my eyes and I see her or a barrel
And it's terrible.

The solution to my life
Is to accept it as my vice
And accept that I'm not fine.

I am arms and I grasp
And they can't accept that
I'm crass
And my thoughts are black
I can't
Make up for the lack
Of passion
Society hasn't.
If music be the food of love,
                My ears are never hungry.
Roasting sticks in this sun,
Roasting my lungs and skin
My God sun warms me,
Inside and out.
Such small arms you had
And how
Tight that sweater held you .
How
Tight
I held you,
Knowing how temporary
These moments are.

How peaceful your soft
Hair was in my face as we
Read and solved children's books.
Laughing and pointing.
Kissing.

I will never forget.
Save yourself
Then come for me.
I want to say I can't do it
But I can.
I know I can make it
I just wish I couldn't.
I wish it was too much
And I'd end it all.
Too healthy for my own good
Too unhealthy for the same.
In the tub
I'm bleeding.
My wrist is still open
And it won't stop if I keep submerging it in water.
I think that's what I want.

If I have less blood,
The NyQuil hits harder
If the blood thinners do their job
I won't clot
And I will die asleep.

That's the dream
Isn't it.
Psychoactive,
More active than your passive hashtags
I'm acting like passion's lacking in these masses
No more than attractive caskets
Really just static traffic, molasses,
Fashion classes? You're wearing classic ashes.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust
This *****.
Unstuck, this one's luck has run amok,
Adjust our distrust to highlight this unjustice.
I'm just one among us.

Us and them. Red and blue. White and black.
We're all dead, just lay me on the mat.
There's chitchat tryin' to get at where I'm at
And why I'm there.
It's riffraff.
I'm just kicking back.
Omitted*
So ******* ready.
I edited this poem after writing due to its content.
Madness.
Belligerent.
Furious.
Enraged.
Dangerous.

I am angry.
Do not make me angry if you value our friendship.
Do not dangle the treads I cherish more deeply than your soul above a flame.
If they break, so will you. I will see to it.

Do not threaten my safety.
Cigarette ash and coffee stains in the veins of the threads of this white shirt.
More stains in the veins on her skirt from my vain, biological ability to pain her with my existence.
Days passing and nothing stays the same in this place.
But her and I will spend the summer days is in better places.
Sands, oceans, ponds and bikinis.
We can sit in silence or talk until my ears bleed.
I'm happy either way.
Happy these days.
"You know I really want my child to-"

My face turned red. I stopped breathing. My heart skipped two beats.

"Oh."
Void of self
Void of this self, ejected
Repress this
And come across it later.

Don't.

Petroleum papers.
I can feel your nails across my fingers,
     The ripples in my hand.
I can feel your warmth across me,
     Like waves over the sand.

I can sense the goodness in your heart,
     The softness in your soul.
Every time I take a breath,
     I know you're good and whole.

But more than all, I want your love,
     Your milky white softness.
But more than all, I want your trust,
     Show me you're not flawless-
                                                                                                     You're wrong.
I often feel my veins and arteries,
I trace their existence, their depth.
Blue and red.
Red's unseen.

I think about what it would be like to
hook
           a knife underneat the vein,
                             and
Yank! Just Rip!

How long would it take for me to bleed out?
Would I?
Which should I choose for the fastest, most accurate death.

I hate death. Life is too precious.
I love living.

Veins are cool.
I'm okay. Really. I'm getting better.
I am not my relationships.
I will not cut again.
I just think veins are hot.
A best-friend before my lover,
A calm before the storm,
Faithful before Faithless,
Painless before painful.
Was she done hiding behind a mask of aliases?
But roses are indeed red.
Usually because my wandering hands doubt the keenness of their thorns.
Similar to how I doubt the sharpness of my love.
Red with passion, then with pain.

Still, beautiful.
In one of my older sketchbooks, I drew a picture of the rose I gave a woman I admired. I later redrew that rose, but it had thorns, and on the back, a sketch of a man who cut his wrists with the short poem "No shield could protect me from your *sword,*" because she practically broke my heart.
That's when I found Faith. She... that was an adventure i won't get in to right now.
Faith broke me, so I went back to the first girl, with a name too beautiful to mention here. I was so close with her, but, I couldn't follow through.

Then I found my lover.
Thermoplastic acrylic acid scent suspended in my sinuses
And red splatter on my glasses
Camel Turkish golds in my lungs
The way this air sits is low hung
It's impossible to make it by
Without asking why we play these games
With ourselves.
Always playing time games with ourselves.

These murals can't capture what I'm thinking
My breathing can't relay how or why I cheated this world.


I'm simply
Alone
And on top of this mountain.
Freezing, breaking the law.
"I just don't wanna"
Tyler said.

I guess he didn't wanna.

But Christ I could wanna.
I can wanna so hard.
I remember when we met in person, like it was earlier
today.
I saw the car first, and new it was you, love.
Christ my heart was racing.
But ****, I was sure. I was so confident. Terrified.

I walked up to the back window you had rolled down.
Your hair was dyed black and shining, your skin wonderfully pale.
You were wearing teal. And you smiled.

"Hey" was all I needed to say.
I tried to pretend that I knew you really ******* well and that we were a normal couple.
It worked for a little bit.

That was a great day.
Our first kiss was like 20 meters from there.
I can’t imagine,
I can’t imagine humming engines so loud the windows shake,
I can’t imagine those same windows shattering violently,
I can’t imagine a bomb being dropped outside the windows,
    Onto the street which I live.
I can’t imagine how they must have felt,
    Seeing the world they knew so peaceful become their new hell,
I can’t imagine running from home,
    Running from gunfire and engines,
    Dogs and gas masks.
I can’t imagine my world dissolving and becoming nothing but a trail of tears.
Why do I let you ruin my mind,
Is it because I love you so,
Or is there some reason to find,
Why I let myself go so low.

I feel my words bounce off of you
Going nowhere, the void of space.
Why is there no response from you?
More time is what I need. More days.
The blood circulates
Inside my cheeks, it makes me red.
How I missed the blush.

Butterfly flapping,
He tears my ribs to pieces.
Exposing the heart.
Two senryu
If I had jello in my veins,
I'd cut my wrists and drink
Scrumptious sugar sweet,
Rainbow colors within me.
When I close my eyes
             I see you;
                          Every time I blink,
Your sweet smile
             Your soft voice;
                          Always makes me think,
What’d it be like with you here
             Always by my side;
                          Though what I crave most is a wink
             From your gleaming eyes,

From a distance
             I see you live life
                          To your greatest reach,
Always yourself
             No one else;
                          Not caring what they preach,
You never fail to find a way
             To frame all of your thoughts;
                          With a pen you break each
             Boundary that they ever taught.

-November 2012
"Hamlet with Benedict Cumberbatch. Very good. Thank you Marshall."

My heart pounds.
I repeat these lines
I smile
I hear her voice.

I hear her voice.
I can't catch my breath.
Every other minute it just gets deeper, faster.
This is anxiety. This is hell.
The protruding image of destroying myself is circulating
And impeding my actions on Earth.
I can't focus.
I can't breathe.
I can't sleep.
I stood in the cold for twenty minutes just to try.

This isn't fair. I'm sorry.
I'm not okay.
I know it isn't fair.
The bug bites on my arms are a reminder,
Of the night you said goodbye for now.
The bracelet in my room is a reminder,
Of the day you stopped, turned, and kissed me.
The poems I wrote, the salt in my eyes,
The song in my head and under my nails,
    Reminds me,
Of the time when you were mine.
Add a poem
Write a poem my eyes dilated
She wears that shirt and my thoughts expand
Beyond the fibers of her thread and green
I breathe.
Green and green and green again
This light is white for not much longer,
Green.

I'm not yellow, she is blue.
I don't drink purple
And our wavelengths are resonant.

This is nonsense to ask if you but her and she and they and them.
Not one
but all could solve
This riddle. But Christ I want
To be more plain. I feel you.
In my eyes my chest my hands my brain my past my present.
I hear your voice and that is not a skill I have.
Sorry I was high.
She was the golden apple that I chose from a tree of hundreds, I washed her flesh, excited her senses, felt her wonder,
And never, Bit in.
I don't blame her for hating me.
Of Katriana, my regret.
“Would you like some more Love, sir?”
“Yes please.”
Like water her words restore the flower’s hue to the best blue.

“The rose petals reminds me of your lips, Madam.-
    So, soft.”

*She blushed.
The desire to question,
The terror denying.
Please not the truth,
I'd rather hear lying.

Lies bring warmth.
Truth brings cold.
This is a winter,
No freezing lulled.

Dull, lost happenings.
Not meant to be breathed,
Spoken beneath this roof,
"Encyclopedia of Regret," they read.
I lost..
Azure steel bay of forgotten goodbyes,
Why did I have to lie.
Crimson glint cave of retained gifts,
Why didn’t we share a kiss.
Snowy grey crack of gathered regrets,
Why did we recess.
Go back,
Go down,
Go out.
Why did we fail.
I, the sailor,
Can’t sail in this gail,
Or rather this eye.
This still,
This stop of storm.
Stop.
How soft this golden glow
Breaks through the window,
As Apollo makes his rounds,
Giving life, and love, to all things on the ground.
Sometimes I get stopped by trains,
It gives me time to reflect,
Am I better there or am I better here
And where can I be my best?

There's a world waiting behind these roads,
A world I may never see,
If I stay here in this town of crossing
How could I know what I could be?

The ocean stands beyond the tracks,
And my happiness is with it,
I'm one step closer to the sands
And buying myself a ticket,

But I know I won't be happy there.
I won't be happy anywhere.
Its not a place or a point or even a person,
My happiness escapes my fate
And over time it worsens.

Over time my happiness becomes my
Sorrow and then my death.
So this town of crossing may see the passing
Of one more soul named Marshall.
Because I was always my best.
I can't believe I wasted the stars on you.
You know, as much as I can Rant and Rave about how much I hate ***, I don't hate it with you.
Something about that night, and the next, really changed me.

I realize that it wasn't *** that I hate, it was the lack of meaning behind it.
I love you, and I know that I love you, I have loved you for years, and that made it worth something.

Spending those two very short nights with you, and that one very short morning changed my life.

I realized there's still a connection to this world that I can achieve, existential boredom hasn't gripped me entirely.
I can still find passion in this world, and something to fight for, and something to create art for.

I have reasons to not throw a bullet through my brain, and every day tastes
a little bit sweeter
knowing that you, people like you, and things that make me feel like I feel when I'm with you, exist.
So bring out the passion, let it flow through our veins, and grab Life by the Lemons(horns).

Because there's nothing stopping me now.

I'm going to take what I want to take, and by God, nothing is going to stop me.
There's passion in the world, and I am going to find it.
Y.
Y.
A lesson in denial
This insanity blanket cover,
(()) mind in constant spiral
Ignoring (()) recover
Y.

Swallowing water,
((deepthroating it rather))
(()) drowning in fishes,
They wither, they splatter,
((They try to climb ladders))
((Dumb fish))
.

Relativity doesn't
Mean to much to (())
Sinister things
And sinister (())
.

(()) swallow coal and ash
And foals and moles,
Vore (()) and gore (())
No placety of safet
Y.

No sleep no eat
No (()) no sea,
Have a seat or two or three
Welcome to insanit
Y.
A spool of yarn,
Two ways to core;
The patient, kind unraveling,
Using all thread to warm;
Or
The knife.
A short path, exposing much
But sacrificing more.
Yea
Yea
Let me hear you speak your 'Yea's,
Not just see you type them.
What I want most is to be seen
Right?
Tattoos, clothes, coffee shops.
Drifting my car in the snow
Writing in public.
Selfies.

I go on dates with pretty girls, but
They never really see me.
I haven't been seen in years.

I've had one percent good experiences
Ninetynine bad.
Scales are tipped in favor of suffering,
and yet those few times I've been seen still carry me.

Talking to <redacted> the other day was cathartic.
I miss her most of all
Even though things could never be how they were.
I don't really care about the past.
She made me happy and appeared in my dreams.

Annie is dying in my brain.
Bad politics.

I'm droning.
This is my diary, shared public for no apparent reason.
You get the **** with the gold.

Coffee with Amanda was enlightening. Brightening.
I feel chill with her.
Comfortable and excited.
I don't know why you take this time
I don't like it one bit,
I try to act like I don't care
Like I don't give a ****,

But I can't help myself
I care too much to fake,
I want your company with me
I don't like this new ache.
Next page