Zenith Jul 8

I don't want to live anymore.
I just don't seem to see the point.
My sadness continues on forever
and the pain in my heart makes it so sore.
But I am too cowardly to end it
so this is how I shall spend it.
I will weep and wallow until
the Angel of Death comes for me,
and until then, dead I will be.

written while terribly lonely and mentally unstable on july 7th
Poetic T Jul 7

Claustrophobic lullabies
collecting in the tear ducts

             He silently exits the chapel.

Her white is transparent of her regrets

He texts:
              "I'm sorry,

XfoxspeakX Jul 3

I tried to be the hero
Just for the sake of praise and purpose
I tried.
I said the right things and stood on my platform with pride.
That fall, that fear, the days, weeks, months, roll by.
I am nothing.
Nothing but a rat digging its nest in the walls of a home because he doesn't have his own.
Who am I now?
I am no one.
I am the bastard of an otherwise loving God.
I am the blizzard before spring.
I am the frostbite that only causes pain.
The end to the flowers, grass, and trees.
I am death.
At least I thought I was.
But I've begged for death since that April day and she won't come.
She won't come to visit and she won't come to stay.
That's why death is like my best friends.
Here for the funeral and gone the next day.
I plead for this to be a dream.
I've been afraid to make it.
And I have been afraid to be alone.
No I am not a rat, nor death, nor a hero.
I am a coward.

Twilight Zone Jun 28

Please deliver me
from myself.

I feel so alone.

Many people say
they're my friend.

Yet they don't take
time to talk to me.

If they do it is just
every once in a while.

All of them say that
I am loved.

Yet they don't care
to look my way.

No one will cry when
someday I die.

They will probably all
be hypocritical about it.

They may not even
notice when I'm gone.

My depression I fear
translates into anger.

I hope that I am not
angry at you.

I've seen you work
in my life.

Miracles that make
me not doubt.

So I do know you
are there.

I just don't know if
I am going to heaven.

It's just my feelings
I don't understand.

If you're there why
do I feel this way?

How could you let
me feel this way?

My loneliness must
be a liar then.

You dare me not to
care how I feel.

So please deliver me
from myself.

I like the nastiest bars,
Those where the waitress is called names
But she doesn't care 'cause she's too kind
And tries to keep it all clean for 400 a month.

Those bars have drama
Whole worlds and stories continuosly entangling,
Whisky on rocks, vomits and shouts
Here comes Rita the waitress to clean it all again;
Dogs bark in the streets
Women cry in their beds as men get drunk
And kick the innocent trash can over a discussion about gibberish.

The loner cat lurks the street at night
Hunting for hamburgers that fell off the trash can,
The drunk men start a fight,
'Here comes the police!' 'Run-run!'
One falls, gets the blame and a free trip to county jail,
Three others join a party and feed the whores
Money and cock --- tails.

Finally, the last one goes home
To beat the crying wife over the same junk
And the repressed anger only a coward can hide.

i couldn't tell you
so i lied.
i couldn't face you,
so i had to hide.
it's cowardly,
i know.
but honestly,
i wasn't meant to be loved.
and when we end,
i'll hit up an old friend,
because i can't stand to be alone.
i'll kiss their lips,
and hate myself for doing it,
but that won't stop me from going to their home.
it's a twisted way to live,
i must be delirious...
but to give,
and be returned with nothing?
that makes you feel so small,
so i may need some help growing again .
i could never tell you that though,
instead i'll make excuse after excuse,
after all this is a cowards truth.
so you can blame me for destroying us.
but tell me,
how can you destroy something that just isn't there?

There's no reward for those who can't take risks.

I am bounded the question "what if"
           Creating fear,
           Creating anxiety,
           Creating misery.
I am a prisoner of my own thought.

But everything is different with you.
You are the key,
you set me free.
It's like you are my symphony
in this world full of anarchy.
You put color to my dreary world.
You bring life to my lifeless world.

With you, I can do everything,
            No fear,
            no anxiety,
            no misery.
But to you, I am no one.
I am not the one who brings you harmony.
I am not the one who ignites the fire in your heart.
I am not the one that makes your eyes spark.
I am not the one that lights up your world.
I am just a shadow,
who will always be there for you
but still you don't see me
the way I see you.

Now I am back again,
Asking the question "what if?"
If I can't win you,
I can't risk losing you.

Just a friend
Sarah Jean Ashby Nov 2012

I fear that winter break won't be the only cold front that I face
The holidays will roll around and you will still need more space
I fear that it's not what you say, but what you don't
That is truly telling.

I look at your face. It's not the same
There's a certain kind of love that's missing
What do you do when your one best friend is the one person you can't talk to?
Jesus! All you ever say is, "I'm sorry..." & "Time helps"
And my favorite, "We'll still be great friends, Ashby"

You're such a terrible friend
Your advice is lacking any empathy
And your care is nonexistant.
If we don't have love
And we don't have friendship
What do we have left?
I'm terrified to ask such a question.

I've been doing my part fine
I've been staying in the lines
That go against every fiber of my being
I don't know what to think anymore
Except that you want nothing more
From me.

You don't want us
You don't want we
You just want you...
And me.

I just want answers to questions I've already asked
Shaken off and given little thought
You say you want what's best
For me
But what I really think
Is that you are a coward.
You're too afraid to be the bastard in this relationship.
But guess what?
You already are.

Ehhh not my best work. But necessary to get out some feelings.
Jobira Jun 13

It is always a coward,
Who lives and sees another sun,
Than a fool,
Who is buried and forgotten,
Six feet under the ground,
Therefore, it is wise being a coward, who is not dead!

I just thought of this.
Poem is still at work

some days,
i can be very brave.
some days,
i can be a coward.
i am a coward.
i walked away.
i walked so far
that i left my job behind.
i was a coward.

time to look for a new job... oops...
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