Learn how to talk!
Type out a message
Erase it.
Chemically induced paranoia.
Marooned by burning bridges,
I fear starvation.
Just surviving life right now
minutes or hours at a time.
It's not pretty.
Poems don't lie.
Perhaps that's why
I can only gush feelings
in some rhyme or pentameter
Not really pentameter,
to much work and time.
This **** has no flow other than
how I think I'd speak it in my mind.
Can't call it slam.
It's just word *****
so I can read it over
and over and over.
Send it to a friend.
Narcissistic desire.
All positive reviews,
so it doesn't matter.
It's easier to remember the feeling this way. (I guess)
Jaded poems of a jaded mind.
My issues are simple
relapse, replay, rewind.
Chain smoking simply for the high,
Et Cetera, et cetera, along those same lines.
Got all this to live for
yet that **** still remains?
Are you ******* serious?
I thought I served my time!
Regressed back to a default state of mind.
I thought I was better than this,
control seemingly was mine.
Normally I'd meditate;
not in that house of horrors
I barely eat,
Not drinking water.
Nothing but making it worse.
Escape: all available options.
I joke about it.
Reminiscent of Lennon:
Help
This poem was sparked by a chain of events that lead me to a state of total mental instability. Since I was 13 I have flirted with thoughts of suicide. When hard times come around, even decades later, I still revert back to those thoughts. This also goes into how I often write poems, send them to friends for their reviews and then the poem essentially dies. However, I find it hard to articulate myself in other forms. Text is where I find my solace.
