Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
John Reilly Aug 2017
Why
What am I doing
How did I get here
Why bother going on
In your mind
Out of it
A troubled past
Or a bleak future
Yet I am
Present
I didn't see the point
Yet something pointed me here
I thought i can't go on
Yet now I'm writing poetry
I thought I needed solitude
I found solidarity
I thought that I was weak
Asking for help is strong
I've edited this, switching the second part to  "I". Originally they were "you" because I wrote this poem  while in the hospital and wanted to help;My wife (a much better poet!) pointed out that person change and how it's much harder to write from first person....which was part of the reason I was in the hospital in the first place, I needed to learn you gotta put your own oxygen mask on before you try and help others.  I did leave  hand written copies of the original around the ward when I left.   Now I'm not saying I did do it, I'm not saying I didn't do it, I'm just gonna say the coyote outside didn't move in his own!
John Reilly Aug 2017
Pick a number
One to ten
Such calculus
I find
Impossible
Uncharted territory
My inverted world
There is no translation
For things that are
Difficult to put into words
Are inumerous
Therefore y
Being undefinable
Makes for an algorithm
Whose sum cannot
Be proven
Logically
A tangent
Of acute panic
An irrational
Conclusion
John Reilly Aug 2017
Words
Are powerful
They teach us
Yes
And no
Love
And hate
They shape us
From the outside
With what we say
And from the inside
With what we think
They can erode us away
And build us up
Bind
Or break
Us
A beginning
Or an end
Ultimately
Starts with
U
John Reilly Aug 2017
I've always found puzzles
Exactly that
Puzzling
It seemed to me
An exercise in futility
Put the pieces together
From this jumbled chaos
So it looks like the orderly picture
On the box
Hardly puzzling
The answer
is right in front of you
The puzzles here
Are worn
And weary
They have been assembled
And broken down
Over and over
Again and again
The cracks and
Worn edges
Interrupt their picture
Some are missing pieces
They will never look
Like the picture on the box
Others are mostly assembled
Left here
Waiting
For someone to finish then
Some have no box at all
No way to contain them
No picture to show them
What they should look like
John Reilly Aug 2017
I am not in Kansas anymore
That much I'm ******* sure of
I'm trying to follow the road
But it seems to lead nowhere
If I walk it long enough
Diligently pace myself
The path should unfold
But I'm tired
And cramping
And there is no wizard
Or witch
Just me
Scarecrow
Tin man
Lion
John Reilly Aug 2017
The coffee here
or something that passes for coffee
sort of coffee
but watered down
weak
tasteless
benign
unstimulating
that's the best word for it
I guess that's it in a nutshell
where I am
waterdown
unstimulated
some approximation of
me
next tuesday you'll be in surgery
and i'll be at home collecting cuts from
folding a thousand paper cranes
and letting them nip my fingertips
with their tiny beaks and feathers.
poor me, my family.
they're dying.
i can't even look them in the eyes
most of the time. how can i hope
to say goodbye, and mean it?
when the ice breaks beneath our feet
will you wake up next to me
in the hospital bed?
with an intravenous drip in
your forearm again.
the aroma of ammonia perforates my
limbic system and emotions and memories
just gush into me relentlessly,
sheer bliss funnels through
the corridors and chemical stores
and finds its rest in my room.
the walls are moist with dopamine.
my bones could break with the weight of
this happiness and it'd only drag on
for longer.
i'd wake up laughing and it made
everyone uncomfortable.
hospitals remind me of my childhood and the smell induces an awkward blissful nostalgic feeling.
Kagami Aug 2017
In one summer, I've become an alcoholic. I've become a reckless shadow of myself.
In one summer I caused the love of my life to distrust me. I showed him my weaknesses and he refused to forgive.
In one summer, I've proven to myself that I'm not strong enough to live. The once terrifying vision of a starile hospital ward seems welcoming now.
In one summer I've managed to convince myself I have nothing left.
electra Jul 2017
Silence.
It's what I hear from you,
It's what I hear and see when I visit you in your hospital bed.
I wait for something,
Anything hoping some day you'll wake up,
And I'll see those beautiful green eyes again.

Silence.
It eats me up every single time.
I want it to end.
I have come to the conclusion that silence is violent and cruel.
You not waking up and lying in a hospital bed is violent and cruel.

Silence,
You've grown too close to me.
You have become like air,
Everything I need in order to survive,
But it's time for me to unhook you from my veins,
And to say goodbye.

Silence,
You are no longer needed,
You are no longer welcomed into my life,
Because you have brought nothing but anger and frusturation.
I look for something different now,
Hope.

Silence,
I want you to bleed away,
Carry yourself away and the emptiness you've brought into my life,
And into his.
Leave,
Leave the way you came into our lives,
You are now dead to me.
Next page