RWM - Hello Poetry

RWM Apr 2018

At the first ever show I played
I lost my guitar pick
So I played with my finger, so hard it
Started bleeding
And the girl I had a crush on kissed it and ask,
"Does it feel better?"
And I said,
"No, now you just have blood on your lips"
She laughed it off,
And wrapped gauze around the wound
And the pressure
Reminded me of the first time I got punched in the gut
Which reminded me of pain
Which reminded me in one moment, of how you can ruin everything.
We went out back and lay in the grass
Gazing at stars
And if you squinted hard enough, you could see Mars
And she asked me, will I ever see you again?
And I said of course,
Before getting up, wiping my back, and never seeing her again.

And I guess, I ruined everything.

You know, humans are kind of like sand castles.
If you look from far away, it's perfect
But when you get close enough
You see all the scars, the holes, the impressions of other people

I ask her, after six years
Do you remember me, and I can tell
The outside of her sand castle has been changed
By waves upon waves
But the inside still has a locket with a face of mine
And says yes, but,
No, no, no, no,
Something's different
You're not who you used to be,

Maybe due to the fact that all humans change and have their own independent emotions that can't be controlled by others.

Or maybe, it's just your new jacket.

#how #to #ruin #everything

RWM Apr 2018

Ramish (part. 1)

I remember
Walking across Interstate 695,
With two pairs of shoes in my hand
It was 1 am
And I was dazed,
So dazed that I didn’t bother to look next to me
And as I walked further, I heard the sound of bone breaking, and a muffled scream
As I look behind me
I see my brother brain matter splattered
Across the road
And his bones piled up
Creating a fortress for his organs

And that was the first time I witnessed death at someone closed to mine’s doorstep
And it wasn’t the last
Death, she wasn't kind to me
She came back uninvited too many times.

I miss you so much, Ramish

#anxiety #death #pain #cars #girls

RWM Apr 2018

Pills (Made In America)

You could drive across the whole thing,
In four days.
Two, if you tried hard enough

I was in the back passenger side
When I kicked the seat in
And bruised my shins
The neon lights reflecting the soullessness in my eyes
And I reflected on the past days
And I thought,

I've had many a lover,
I've loved painting, loved sculpting, loved singing, but the most,
I loved, writing.
One night, I pushed her away
Not because, I didn't love her, I loved her
But,
My emotions vanished quicker than the speed at which we started.

Recently, I had started a new medication.
And my anxiety had halted.
But along with anxiety had gone my emotions,
They got off a couple stops too early.

Yes, my anxiety was gone,
But, at what cost?
I hadn't realized that I'd rather feel pain,
Then nothing at all.

My friends said, hey, let's drive across America in four days,
And I didn't bother to ask why,
Because I knew their response immediately
Because we can

And I wished that I could've mustered up the courage to say
"Just because you can, doesn't mean you should,"
But that would mean I am a huge hypocrite
Because, just because I could take medicine to stop my neuroticism from malfunctioning
Doesn't mean I should
Because I was more depressed than before
I felt the pills run down my throat
As frequently as my mom talks to God
Day after day,
And night after night,

And as I see the greenish hue of the neon tint the white pill bottles,
Citalopram,
Risperdal,
Chlorpromazine,
Xanax,

I see a commonality on all of the bottles,
MADE IN AMERICA

But I dropped the bottles because I knew
They were not made with love or care

They may have had the intention to help
But wow, they sure were not helping me
And I might be crazy, to say
That my mind and my heart
My mind, my father
My heart, my mother
Are in an abusive relationship
And I am merely caught in the middle
And I question comes to my mind,
"Hey guys, are we there yet?"

RWM Apr 2018

[in theory]

the blanket is kicked of the bed
as i shift
i believe that we
as people, move to our heartbeat
fast, slow, fast, then again slow
and this might crazy, but when you ask "how are you?"
honestly,
i don't know

in theory
time only moves forwards
but when im with you, time moves backwards
you bring me back to my childhood
which smells like fallen leaves and a poorman's candles
when there was no depression, no anxiety
just a chubby little kid who smiled too much, and loved the beach boys
what happened to that chubby little kid, who smiled too much, and loved the beach boys?
he's gone
because every seven years your molecules replace themselves
and in theory
you are a new person
in theory,

you know
i wear my brain on my sleeve
because i ***** my words through a pen
onto paper
i hide behind paper
because i don't want my words written in pencil
to be destroyed by people as an eraser

i want to become the greatest poet of all time
but for that would i have to know every syllabic rhyme
in iambic pentameter, triplets, or sonnets?
or would i just have to dream?
because reality comes putting the sheets back on the bed
and punching me in the head
and knocking me on the ground
because blood
is better then heartbreak
in theory,

RWM Apr 2018

Fifty Nine

I wear my brain on my sleeve
Because my thoughts erupt from my mouth like ***** through a pen and onto paper
This narrative is not one to be messed with
Because it is serious
And tells the tale of anxious, oppressed, and depressed kids
This one's for the serotonin lacked
And the girls with bruises blue and black
The art freaks and geeks
Oh!
I wait 59 seconds to tell you that you are the one
So I guess you could say
I wear my heart on my sleeve too

She wakes up on the wrong side of the bed
With an overbearing feeling
That she is better of dead
But when people ask
How are you
Her go to two words erupt
"I'm fine"

He wakes up
In the middle of the street
And he needs to run 6 miles to get to school
On his own two feet
And instead of telling the truth
He disobeys and betrays his own heartbeat
As it increases
He says the only two words he knows
"I'm fine"

But when the star crossed lovers meet
They know that the other isn't fine
And confide in each other
Each toll
Each turmoil
Every single thought that makes their blood boil

But this is not a love story

RWM Mar 2018

do you?

do you ever feel the pain of a rain drop?
i mean, think about it,
what sound does rain make?
pitter patter, pitter patter
well, other than the fact that it's the sound of a water droplet hitting the object it's making contact with
do you ever think that maybe that sound is the rain drop screaming?
do you ever feel that pain?
do you ever feel the pain of a 56-year-old man who wants to see
his 7-year-old daughter?
do you ever feel the pain of a depressed alcoholic teacher in the closet?
do you ever feel the pain of that kid who's in the closet because he is afraid of his friends leaving?
do you ever feel the pain of a 15-year-old depressed kid who is asking you if you feel pain?
do you remember,
do you think about that one time
where you looked at me
and i looked at you
i saw colours upon colours
and dreams upon dreams
in your eyes
thats when i knew, i'm in love with you
but turns out when you looked back
you weren't looking at me
you were looking behind me
to see what the sign behind me read
i think about that a lot
do you ever think about the people who suffer more?
those who are anxious,
depressed,
schizophrenic,
blind,
deaf,
tinnitus,
a constant ringing in the ears
where silence doesn't exist
but a sound of constant ringing
a tape loop
of static, stuck on repeat
on the same track, going
d-d-d-d-du-du-du-du-du-d-d-do-do-do-do
do you ever think about that raindrop?
about how you just wiped it off your windshield
and killed its aspirations and dreams
kinda like adults do with kids
we **** kids aspirations
no kid, you can't be a poet
because you didn't write a good enough essay
on whether blue meant sad, or the colour blue
"kid, you must be an engineer, or a doctor"
"but dad, i wanna be a poet"
the dad slaps the kid
...what do you say to that?
the kid is in pain
do you feel that pain
do you ever feel the pain of a rain drop?
do you ever feel the pain of a 66-year-old man who wants to see
his 17-year-old daughter?
he wants to say, he loves her, but he can't
and he doesn't even know she's in an abusive relationship
so do you ever feel the pain of a rain drop?
do you ever feel,
at all?

Thank you.

RWM Mar 2018

Jump

she was a young girl
only seven years old
raised on prayers, heaven sent, heaven grown
told it was a game
didn't even know her own name
after she was told what she had to do
she had to go
to the backside of restaurants
and please the old ***** that "get what they want"
and that'll haunt her
maybe she should jump

he was a nervous young man
dad never home
mom an alcoholic
sister left to college
all her plans diabolic
and he's trapped in the closet
so many voices around
all so loud
so maybe he should jump