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You say all the right things
But only when you’re drunk
You laugh when I remind you
I laugh too
Words
Even as a child I knew I was mad
I never did think the way others do
I was settled with this
Inevitably, I succumbed to my darkness
This is just who I am  
Madness and sadness all scribbled together
I haven't been employed for awhile
Im a bit fuzzy
My minds turned to mush
Feel somewhat  infantile
No problems to solve
No knobheads to handle
No battles to win
No angles to wangle
Hidden in plain sight
Behind this chain link fence
Nothing to do
Nowt calls me hence
When common care
Causes all to twist and ****
I'll stare at the  wall
While the world is at work.
 Mar 3 Maryann I
Zeno
I saw a well that was all
familiar to me
Down beneath hides
the coldest winter,
a barren land so gray and empty  

A murky water, pulling me
like a vortex screaming my name
The shadow crawling over my body
binding me

While an ancient Sumerian god
drumming its hands
on the chambers of my heart,
the harrowing melody that stirs every beat
and a dark symphony that sings
of annihilation

******* all the air in the world
each autumn leaves of my lungs
falling apart, one by one

In the roots, where it crawls
twisting and slithering
forming a knot
around my stomach
Like I'm hanging from a tree
that peers over the edge
of the world

A monster hiding beneath
in the darkness of the well
looking back,
to me that was once alive
now lifeless and empty
My body is broken
But doesn't really matter
How badly beat up I get
My soul still wants
To pick a fight

I guess us fighters
Are just made like that
We never really know
When and how to quit
We're too **** tough
For our own good

We just want that fire
So we keep pushing
On and forward
Forward and on
A repost of a piece that I wrote last september, while trying to shake myself off a depressive episode... couldn't be more appropriate: I'm fighting really hard right now.
Her daddy's gone
he's flown away
the skies are quiet
on this darkened day
but for one little bird
who sings her tune
a sombre melody
to a hollow moon
she sings for loss
for love her first
and though he's flown
and she has grown
a daughter's love is always known
he may be gone
but she sings on
knowing she can sing
because he has Angel wings.
I wrote this poem for a friend after their father passed away, it was inspired by their love of the Bob Marley song Three Little Birds.
I could write nonsensical
and make the words not rhyme at all
but would you read my ramblings
and consider me insane?
for spilling thoughts from my brain
Would you care to hear me talk?
if I spoke like a fork
Or would a spoon be easier to swallow?
if it was full of smiles
Tell me, am I terrible or knife?
the cost of admittance is worth the price
Does a placemat stack against the vocabulary at my disposal?
maybe I should consider your proposal
to live a coherent life
to colour within the lines
I am a crayon box of imagination
excuse me for drawing on the walls.
rage smells like smoldering embers,
rage looks like bloodstained fists,
rage sounds like elevated heartbeats,
rage feels like a tidal wave,
yet rage tastes like charred ashes,
because its twin causes upset,
her name, after all… is regret.
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