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Shawn Callahan Oct 2018
I've fallen in love with Self-Deprecation.
I found her teetering the edge
of Self-Destruction

Testing Her limits with every acquaintance.

She lets Her life hang in the doorframe
either land on her feet
or the knot takes Her name

Teasing bad decisions with Svedka soaked sexts.

I've fallen in love with inception.
I left Self in an echo of a room
against cement bricks of incarceration.
Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
Shawn Callahan May 2018
They say you can't fall anymore than Rock Bottom
But I've painfully crashed a thousand times, and
melted into the Earth's Core; filling the cracks
With liquefied remains of what I became...a failure.

My broken pieces caught in alluring lies
and tangled Bed Sheets

Rock Bottom is every bed
A boy has invited me in
Because I could not accept
God's knock on my chest.

Rock Bottom is every cigarette
I've shakenly put between my lips
Because I could not let
God's words fill me.

Rock Bottom is each step away
from my Body
Because my soul-my remains
Are left alone above someone's covers.

My soul is locked away in a room
I can never return to.
It's been captured in his bed.
So I fill myself with broken glass
hoping the reflection of what once was
shines through.

I drown myself in self-deprecation
Praying that a form of baptism
Will return my soul to me...

But it wont.
Not until I open my chest,
Not until I fill my lungs
with scripture.

My soul was captured
Because God told me
Who the Devil was...
Charismatic, body like a snake, and
Eyes filled with love...maybe lust?

But the thought of happiness captivated me
And comfort was found in his arms...
I ignored God- calling him a fool.

Now, I must heal and find my soul
Because I didn't listen the first time.

I open my chest
My lips spill with alcohol soaked apologizes
And He still holds me,
Cares for me,
He has not Forsaken me...
like I had Forsaken myself.
Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
Shawn Callahan Apr 2018
Oh, how would it be...
to have a body
you never touched?

Would my skin not flake away?
Would my eyes stop pacing...
Only to avoid you?

Soft skin is always missed
But the throbbing between my thighs
Will forever stay; unforgotten

I wish to feel pleasure
Where there was pain
As he touches my curves...

Six months with someone new
And my my mind still disappears
In the blue sheets.

Oh, how would it be
To have a body
You never touched...
And Instead he did.
Shawn Callahan Feb 2018
Coffee –morning,
afternoon, and nighttime shots –
keeps me breathing,
and saves me from harmful thoughts.

I grew up with parents
addicted to the taste,
and a sister, who brought it home as a present
as if it held everything together like paste.

I heard through blue bedroom plaster
the cries of teenage rebellion,
and the yells of parents in disaster
from the back-talk of the hellion.

Coffee stopped coming home every night.
She brought it to a different family.
How I wished our home would reunite,
but we never regained our sanity.

Now I am intoxicated every day
with the milk-and-sugar infused
mixture. It turns the dull gray
of my eyes to look brown and enthused.

Each sip is rich in bitterness
and poor in flavor.
Yet it infects me like an illness
and saves me from the razor.

Sip some coffee
smile, don’t cry.  
Sip some coffee
the blood will dry.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
Shawn Callahan Jun 2016
I hate when you leave the light on.
I turn it off for a reason,
and you have the audacity to turn it on again.
It is too late for you to turn on the light.
It is too late for me to be awake.
I do not want it on. I don't need it on
It is a waste of energy,
trying to turn it on
after I turn it off.
You and I both know, I'm going to keep trying,
to keep it off.
So save yourself the money and time,
Save your energy for someone who wants it.
I'll use the rest of my energy to keep it off.

I cannot sleep with the **** light on!
Every time I hear the switch click, my opens open,
and the light penetrates the darkness I am trying to sleep in.
You are not in control of the light, you cannot decide
that you want it on, every time I want it off.
Stop ******* wasting everyone's time with this
back and forth. Money is being wasted, because
you can't learn that everyone does want the light on.

Please stop wasting your energy on me and my light.
Stop telling me I have an issue, where there is none.
This light is mine, the witch is mine, I am choosing
not to shine. Don't make the choice for me.
I hate when you turn on the light, I hate it so much
I hate gasping for air and telling you to go **** yourself.

Because of you, all I hear is that ******* clicking!
I hear in the morning and in the night,
I hear it when I cross the street. I cannot escape it.
It is forever ringing in my ears. But,
do you want to know what I love?
I love when you leave the light on.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
Shawn Callahan Oct 2015
I've made mistakes
This is true
But have you seen
What I've been through?
I need some time, some space
To clear my heart.

Never did I think
that Love could ****
But there I lay

I need to create who I am,
But you wont give me the chance.
You don't understand that
The games you play
Are driving me away.

I need to forgive myself
But you're making that hard
And I can't seem-to catch my breath.

I'm not a broken toy
I'm the same as I always been
with just a few scars
That tell a story
You're too afraid...**to experience.
Shawn Callahan Oct 2015
I wanted more for you
than I wanted for myself.
But you showed me
You didn't care
and I wasn't enough.

Daily routine was your happiness
and me pretending I was happy.
Never did I think my love for you
Would **** me in the end.

But I died. I didn't care
Lost in an unfamiliar world.
Left alone figuring my way through.
So many drunk nights. So many mistakes.

Morals down the drain.
Cold tile floors my comfort at night
But warmer than your words.

One week passed. Then two.
Born again in
Whiskey and Joints.

Week three was better
Week four was a realization.
Thank you!
For your breakup-text
Thank you for letting me go.

I would have stayed,
Even though I was unhappy.
I would have done anything
To put you first.
Unlike you did for me.

Thank you for choosing yourself
and letting me discover what happiness is.
Week five has proven progress.
I'm first.

You wanted more for yourself
Than I was willing to give
and I show you now
that I always cared
But now I never will again.
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.
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