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Griselda De Anda
a piece of silly laughter next to a stab of pain
logan misseldine
new york    Not afraid of anyones opinion Nor will I shrink from my own

Poems

Heard what happen
They say it couldve been
Anyone
But it had to be you
Dont worry
I'm not mad
Not even dissapointed anymore
I've learned to accept the enevitable
Its much easier that way
Science has helped me with this
They call it
The law of inertia
Its an objects resistance
To change its state of motion
Unless
An external force is acted upon it
No wonder than that you kept leaving bruises on me
The older we got
Except sometimes they werent always
Physical
And sometimes
They didnt always heal right


I used to think
That whatever happened in the past
Were just accidents
Something that wasnt ment to happen
But it did
Right there was an accident
That maybe
Maybe our world ran out of external forces
To stop me
From losing my security
And my freedom

A lot like that night
When the knock on your
Car window wasnt for spare change
On hand
Instead
They asked for your hands
Behind your back
For a minute
And a half
But that half never came
Guess you couldnt do that math
With all that smoke stuck in your
Single minded brain
Your friends
Werent gonna bail you out
This time
No smooth talking
Clever lying
Was gonna get you out
Of the cold steel grip of these metal bars
Holding you down to where you
Seemed to belong
But you called
Called the next afternoon
Another wave of Im sorrys
And I forgives yous
But this time was different
it wasnt the sound of grown
Men crying
But somehow
I knew you were broken

My brother
You lived your life feeling like the sibling
That was always the failure
But Im here to tell you
The appel doesnt fall far from the tree
Because there were so many times
I couldve helped you
So many times i couldve hugged you
So many times i couldve heard
All your problems
And maybe even thanked you

Because its not just called a mistake
When youre doing something thats wrong
Sometimes
Its not doing whats right

So if any here should say sorry
Dont think youre the only one




Because inertia
In latin
Means lack of art

Or the act of
Unskillful hands staying idle far too long
To be called
Artists block
And
Im sorry brother
But i think Ive
Lost the art of
Loving the broken
Can see the beauty in
Human flaws anymore
I wish i could just see things
From a different angle
Like some holy mosaic
Only God could see from a far
But Im too near sighted
To see all the little broken pieces come
Together
Ive got to be up close
To see anything clearer
and I promise you
Theres no beauty from where im standing
Especially when its infront
Of a mirror

Some might say
Im wallowing in seld pity
But all ive done
Is just show all of me
Even the parts that arent so pretty

My brother
Used to call me a trophy case
With all my achievments
Out on display
Hed say i was showing off


But brother you are right
I am just a trophy case
See past all the glittering
Statues
And fancy certificates
And youll see something thats empty.
Not done lol
Self destruction imploded,
explosive is the emotion, when corrupt and tainted,
and salvation is stagnant, dismembered and disassembled,
as it resembles a black heart that relinquishes it's broken wings,
and surrenders to complication in frustration...
A device used that's suffice to sacrifice what temptation,
made sacrilegious, a viscous disease plagued by the relic feelings that are negative prognosticators bringing induced nostalgia
that only comforts til the attachments make it arbitrary.
It's a condition that foreshadows eminent manifestations
that makes justification unequivocal, so indestructible is my problematic depression,
my depression that im stressing is what causes my stressing,
only stretching once pressing so im guessing
that self destruction is a blessing as im confessing that my lifes abusive like im a possession
and thats when i question my suicidal state
and why i wait, causing my seld destructive ways to mutates into a plutonium powered, steroid fuelled monster
that contributes to the inadequate feeling projected in my low self-esteem filled consciousness ...
until the residual given the variables is nothing short of pathetic,...
An astronomical spectrum of failure,
tears and insecurities that resonate to perpetuate the amplified undeniable confinement that nihilism builds....
Irreparable, so I reprehend reputation and release stigma,
but alas reach to accept what I cannot change,
changing the things I can and staying perplexed in differentiating.
The only respite I have is the lethargic hope that I will be terminated immediately,
til then redundant is the regretful feeling resulting in me halting
living vicariously through dead individuals visual
but your imagination cant comprehend it,
as it is declared gratuitous with the exemption of acting as a wrecking-ball to shatter my scattered and battered dreams
as demolition makes extinct the instinct to continue my pursuit for happiness that my gps can't seem to locate for a destination point,
so implicated is the uncomplicated conclusion that most concur as apt.
I contemplate collision to refute, but refuge I seek leaves me like the head of a seek, wrapped in a turban of the tangled web of lies I weave in a post freedom epiphany
that dictates to fall in line and pay taxes,
which contradicts freedoms theory and questions it as if to challege a democracy our hypocrisy sold out,
so before I implode as an introvert would,
I say as an extrovert to divert and dodge the bomb
made of self pollution society helped bond to my suicidal notion to instigate what is now destiny,
... Stand back...take cover...TNT + me = my carefully calculated subconscious desire...
Calamity that brings Armageddon ...boom!!!
As I yell goodbye before the dramatic, and traumatic ******...
brains blood and guts erupt, to help conduct
and orchestrate the witnesses who are now throwing up