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Joseph Peterman May 2019
why aren’t the pills
in the cabinet
working for me yet?
i disassociate from myself
and climb into bed
with strangers
i’ve never met
tricking myself into
believing
that i’m living
another persons life
so it’s simply ok
to be this ****** up
today
but even tears at night
cover still
the string lights
in my room
and the way i feel
keeping my eyes damp
until morning time
maybe my teenage brain
can crack the code
of my lack of sleep
and thoughts unknown
hating myself
from all the pain
and learning to love
over again
the tender touch
of my own mother’s hug
or the warmth
of the coffee mug
pressed against my lips
at nine a.m.
i find myself
through it all
the bigger things in life
and things so small
revisioning
and remembering
the smell
of a friday morning
reminding myself
of the comfort you gave
jumping in and out
of scenes
throughout each day i wake
where the script becomes mine
to create and intertwine
in my brain
manipulating the narrative
but never talk about the story
whilst gently taking care of it
it’s my own way to move on
and reward myself
for breaking hearts
to straight up losing mine
remaining sane
in foreign situations
to constant explanations
to those who never listen
the pills never work for me
or my current intuition
and that’s ok
Joseph Peterman Dec 2018
used to escape in my mind
escape in my heart
you escape in a pipe
that tears you apart
used to inject my time
and inject my love
now you inject into your vein
simply because
i saw potential
inside your broken heart
and broken mind
i like to piece together
people of the broken kind
i saw what others didn’t
i saw a person
with drive and stability
i expressed with words
how much you meant to me
you let the liquor
destroy you mentally
only saw me as a joke
you consider coke
you test your limits now
but one day you’ll reach your limit now
and won’t be able to come back down
and your soul will be headed elsewhere
drifting away
hoping something else is out there
soul searching for a new one to care
and maybe the problem with you
is you misuse drugs and people
and maybe the problem with me
is i misuse drugged up people
but this means nothing to you
it’s sad but true
Joseph Peterman Nov 2018
im imperfect
and that’s not okay
some say im important
but i feel nothing
i lack compatibility
im a ***** when i want to be
the amount of friends
that i left behind
would maybe surprise you
and a few months ago
the amount of friends
that were right by my side
would make you smile
life was easier
when i didn’t care as much
waking up to notifications
became the first thing
that i would actually digest
it became an important task
something i couldn’t live without
my emotional safety vest
i felt like i mattered
i felt an ounce of human
when i felt needed
but now emptiness inside me
leaves me feeling dead
but it’s a good feeling
to once finally wake up and digest
cereal for breakfast
it’s a bit comforting
knowing that you care
for yourself
the way you used to care for others
it’s comforting to mean something
to yourself
to love yourself
to cherish silly moments spent alone
to spend a weekend in bed
i have been hurt
and by now you’d think
that i would have already bled out
from being stabbed in my heart
by the people that tore my life apart
i was used for what things i possessed
and seen as joyful
but deep down i was depressed
it’s hard to feel like a human being
when you’ve been treated like an object
i put people first and they put me last
and for a while
i was content with that logic
of coming in last
and not standing up for myself
when i started standing up for something
standing up for myself
my opinions
and my true friends
they ran away with my two cents
and laughed at me like the villain
everyone played the victim role well
and everyone for while
were all so sure of themselves
that they didn’t give a ****
about how i felt
missing out on parties and laughs
for not being wanted by somebody
******* and your compatibility checklist
im a human being with mutual friends
i can’t be the favorite of everyone
and i understand that
but don’t tell me “not my house, not my party”
and fake your emotions to convey you’re sad
you’re a manipulator at its finest
and most of my ex friends
convinced so many that they were all sorry
and always were trying
but to me that’s the fakest **** i have ever heard
so why would i want to party with them all
feel bitter and hurt my liver
day drink like your life is meaningless
and have others pity you
for what?
because you’re all alcoholics
covering up your habits
by playing it off as a celebration?
and with that said,
i will never understand
how they hated me for so long
for speaking my mind
after being on mute
after they all said i was wrong
and if you talk **** about me
behind my back
than to you, i obviously meant nothing
im just a car ride
a place to stay
an ATM
not a human being
that means anything
im simply just empty
im the person
you make videos on
to talk **** and spill tea
but check yourself
and fix you’re life
wake up to reality
im not your next breakthrough video idea
and i would try to play the victim
but you’re already so good at that
i can’t be the one you love
because you emotionally ****** me up
and because i can’t force feelings
that i don’t have
but even in another universe
if i did have feelings for you
i would still see you for who you truly are
i would see you for the hurting and broken person
that hurts people through social media
i would hurt you back if i could
the same way you hurt me
the same way you claim your ex hurt you
it brings me so much happiness knowing that i don’t have the same feelings you do
it makes me sane not having you around
it breaks my heart how some left
there are some that i still wish the best
i couldn’t save all my relationships
just like i couldn’t save myself
i was hoping
and waiting
that i could escape my minds holding cell
i was praying to God
that one day a miracle would come
where i could keep things between the group and i at ease
and still save myself
i prayed and played memories in my head
like a constant running tape
a constant running strain
a knife sliced twice in my veins
to simply feel the flow
of emotions all go
to simply have you to stay
to simply have you all
in a glass container all to myself
but still hoping you’d all feel how i felt
i wore my emotions on my sleeve
held them together the best that i could
tightened my feelings up
like the metaphorical belt i was
hoped you’d all come back at one point
but realized you all never would
analyzed my future and better days
and found my mind stuck in haze
and since that day that it had to rain
my feelings towards you haven’t been the same
i was the punchline to all your jokes
but the person you ran to when feeling low
your daily dose of realism
and daily dose of inside jokes we told
being the medicine to cure your depression
taught me to never give out kindness for granted
i graduated high school
but i found this to be the hardest lesson
it’s hard to burn the mental images you have saved in your mind
to start a new path without your best friend in your life
but its even harder
when they do things to bother
your mental health and the ways you felt
i couldn’t breathe with you around me
it’s not good
to feel like a fish out of water
and some say im the manipulator
the bad guy, the bully, the hater
some would say i don’t have compassion
and that my only passion
is making people hate me
and lately i have let that mentality
get the best of me
and remove all of my sincerity
when they all wanted me to be a better friend
i just wanted a friend
a friend in general
as basic as that sounds
i simply wanted another human
to feel joyful with when they’re around
i wanted conversation and late night drives
i wanted discussion where we would talk about nothing
and after hitting midnight
the day still felt right
a day where we did nothing
but felt like we did everything
never did i once ask
to have a “**** everything” mentality
just like a potter
the reason i don’t bother
is because i was molded this way
conditioned by the world
to be there for all
but with the group
it became my obstacle to get over
my last and final wall
to jump and to hurdle
to flow tears that drown out noise
but to only hurt a little
i felt helpless
swimming in foreign waters
of despair and feelings of belonging nowhere
of panic attacks
and shaving my hair
of late night talks
with only myself
trying to reprogram my mind
to be someone else
felt like the only one going insane
like they stayed in line
and i was switching lanes
how could i ever love myself
when the people in my life
made me hate how i felt
how could i be anything
other than what they conditioned me to be
trying to be nice
while fighting hostility
isn’t an easy task to many
i became the puppet to all of them
but now im known as the puppet master
you all switch up and change
when you know in your brains
that im what you’re all chasing after
an easy target to shoot down
an easy friend to keep around
a person to talk down upon
when i have done nothing
but love and care and be there
for you all
i loved you all more
than i used to love myself
i loved you all so much
that i gave out all my help
and in return i didn’t ask for a lot
just simple love and small talk
but it withered up and died
much like all your hearts
to me, the devastation, persuasion, and destruction were all the hardest parts
you all blame me
but you’re all sick in the head
cause what you put me through
would maybe make someone
end their life from all your hatred
from all the texts you left me saying,
“you disgusting *******”
“you stupid little *****”
“you ******* *******”
“you little ******* *****”
maybe if i killed myself
you all would escape me forever
or maybe you’d all show up
to my funeral with hand written letters
and speak of my accomplishments
and all the good memories
and how you’ve all been friends with me
since the start of the century
you’d say some *******
that would make me want to come back
to speak my opinion
and say what you all lack
and speak on how you all are ****
and are drunks that drown their souls in spirits
until you become worthless
and how i gave second chances
even when some didn’t deserve them
and we’d maybe banter
until i lie and say you’re all deserving
even if, dead or alive, i was still hurting
you don’t care about my pain
unless it’s a physical mark on my body
so instead of wondering why it has to rain
you should’ve made me feel something
cause you failed at being my friend
you all did in a sense
you took my innocence
and tortured me with it
i will never be able to get back many wasted months
but i won’t hinder on it any longer
i will be the person you all fear one day
i will become someone stronger
im imperfect
and that’s okay
im important
i feel like something
i had a group of friends that all hurt me. i wrote all my feelings down and tried to speak my mind the best i could.
I let different boys touch me
Because I wanted to know
Even for a second
What it felt like to be loved
Even if the love was cheap
And it tasted like ***
Like the punchline to a joke
I never got because it was me

I let different boys have different parts of me
Parts they didn't deserve
But I offered up willingly because I couldn't give anything else
after you broke me
I was looking for different fingers
to place different pieces and hoping  the outcome
would be a masterpiece
Maybe one of them would find a way
to cover up the handprints you left all over me

I let different boys touch me because I had to prove to myself
you wouldn't be the only one
that these scars marking my body wouldn't define
my worth to be loved
I am not entirely sure  
you aren't the only one who could ever touch me without slightly  flinching

I let different boys touch me because that is all I have been taught
To be a joke
To be silent
To be ready to give until you have nothing left
- they keep leaving me and I am to scared to offer up anything more than my body to get them to stay
Joseph Peterman Nov 2018
at the start of it all
i came up strong
had some friends
we got along
my heart broke hard
and soon I’d fall
trying to pick up
my broken pieces
im emotional

summer sun
and silly games
silent nights
and whispering
my friends all
got the best of me
always failing
and testing me
my friends all
got the best of me
left them all
rest in peace

you were supposed to be
the one i love
you were supposed to be
the one i trust
and now i just
have had enough
i pick up these
broken pieces
just because

i might love you
more than you love me
but your haunting skies
are a mystery
and i see your breath
fill the open room
waiting for the time
i let go of you

and i might love you
more than you love me
but i still hate how
you got the best of me
and i might make choices
that make you mad
and break some hearts
ill give you that
or just guilt trip
to make you sad
but you will never get the best of me
ill pick up the broken pieces
peacefully
I love him
I tell myself
I know that
We will be together forever
I don’t believe that
We could be separated
My thoughts tell me that
He’s the love of my life
Sometimes my heart lies and says
I could live an eternity
Without him
Like my friends say
“We’re perfect for each other”
And you can’t tell me
He’s not the one.

Now read from bottom to top.
Joseph Peterman Oct 2018
i read up on new articles posted
reassuring me that clear skin is still a possibility
i see the bumps on my skin
physically causing pain to my well being
and socially causing bumps in my everyday life
at night i drown my face in chemicals
i moisturize when my self esteem is low
im online looking at people that will never know
the pain and the embarrassment
genetics gone wrong
a type of new skin
that’s second hand
that’s poorly made
with clogged up pores
and for past months lately
i don’t know if i possess beauty anymore
no one could ever begin
to tell me that people only care
about beauty within
when i examine my looks
i never seem to win
when do i go out?
it just depends
on my bad days
with skin that misbehaves
my bed is the only thing
that truly sees me
and on my good days
with skin sort of okay
i pick apart myself in other ways
i might have a inflamed case of body dysmorphia
and it’s not rare for me to cry
before getting through morning time
when i wake up from slumber
the amount of pimples on my face become a number
a number that controls my life
and the way i live daily
and turns my life from a yes
into a maybe
one time there was a week
i pretended to be sick
when i wouldn’t go out
and hang with my friends
they asked me what’s wrong
i said just a cough
but something else was wrong
i simply had enough
maybe i need therapy to see my potential
but it’s hard to be happy
when you can connect the dots on my face with a pencil
and the bumps on my face
have sets bumps for me in life
but i pray soon that
i will love my image again for just one night
this is how acne ruins my life
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