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To write wasn’t a passion of mine,
When I learned of life?
My brain suddenly sparked a fire.

You see,
We’re always plunged right into the sea!
I can’t help but swim frantically.

I’m not a swimmer though,
So I kept on sinking.
Towards the abyss.

In a dark place,
I found something darker.
The ink of my pen.

Seeing as my darkness doesn’t compare,
I saw my own darkness as light.
Now I write when it’s night.

I couldn’t make any rhymes,
Just incoherent thoughts.
I wasn’t creative enough.

I couldn’t draw any art,
I couldn’t compose any songs.
All I can do was speak.

Now?
I can just speak without a voice.
This pen of mine speaks.

I’m an open book,
Talk to me and I talk back.
My doubt riddle words.

In my darkest days,
Where my voice doesn’t echo back,
I have my pen.

Light isn’t a reflection of others.
It’s a spark within your headspace.
When everything else disappears.
I’m in a dark place, and whenver I’m down here, I write whatever I can. Raw thoughts, incoherent, abstract, random, gibberish, trash. I writ when I’m down, it’s an outlet to plunge myself deeper so I could die and respawn. My creativity doesn’t exist; only destruction on paper.
Intelligence Quotient

* eye koo

I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH MY HANDS!

                  * *...my hands are useless...
*

eldoo a tem
eldoo a tem
eldoo a tem
People walk on by and only glance in my direction
unaware that I am suffering from a deep rooted infection.
For don't you see that I'm painfully dying
and in the future you'll know that I could've been saved,
all it took was a simple moment of trying
and to hear the things that I always craved.

They tell you a drowning man will drag you down
but I've always been a strong swimmer,
we can easily take on another pound
just focus on the waves surfing glimmer.
Keep going, keep rowing,
don't inhale that salty sea.
The wind's blowing, exhaustion is showing,
I'll hold you up even when you can't hold me.

People walk on by and only glance in my direction
they aren't the slightest bit shocked at my self inflicted dissection.
For I desperately need to remove my organs of rot,
these days feeling just takes too much of a toll on me,
and they're so badly damaged that no customer has bought,
even when I offered them up for free.

They tell you a drowning man will drag you under
but I've always been gifted with a swift ******,
how I made it out this far truly is a wonder,
or maybe just another sad tasteless joke.
Keep going, keep towing,
don't you give up so easily.
The wind's blowing, pace is slowing,
I'll hold you up even when you can't hold me.

So call me Ismael 'cause I'm lost at sea,
was caught up in a current very swiftly,
and my white whale has lost all interest in me,
I guess there's some other place it would rather be,
than stuck in my sad excuse for company.
Do I glimpse land's salvation or am I just succumbing to insanity?
I sit alone in the dark
Will you turn on the light
Will you make it bright
Make me feel right?

Overcome by the fright
My chest's feeling tight
Scream into the night
What is wrong and what's right?

From the shadow's, a glow
Hear a voice I don't know
A fairytale show?
Nope, it's just an echo (echo) (echo)
Written: October 11, 2018

All rights reserved.
Smoke signals from a silent cigarette
float to the heavens and linger
in the mucky conscience of regret
resting on the temple, my forefinger

Thumb lifted to expose
a metaphorical gun
countenance in prose
staring at a midnight sun

When will that monster again ****
another that I love,
Why did I so feel
like I could best the powers from above

I created a ghastly Adam
and I dare not create an innocent Eve
my future I cannot fathom
all time left to grieve

I will chase this gruesome snake
no matter where it slithers
across ****'s frozen lake
this calamity summons me hither

My final and only ambition
is to cast a life to silence
his and my cognition
will clash and bite in violence

I created a monster
and a monster created me
Madness! How it so saunters
and wails as if a banshee

Look over on the frozen horizon
a horrid shadow stalks
I, a fire stealing Titan
will march out to solve this paradox
Cthulhu wakes.
The mind of Man
His heart forsakes:
His psyche breaks.

With acid rain
The clouds are thick;
And Man, insane,
Regrets his brain.  

The dawning doom
Refractively splits
The heavy gloom.
All nightmares loom.

O.O
SC Kelley Oct 5
My eyes bleed with exhaustion.

My thoughts are fuzzy like my brain is stuffed with styrofoam.

My body sinks into the **** carpet floor of my basement.

My mouth tastes sour with the flavor of an unslept soul.

I lie here writing instead of sleeping because it feels like the only thing I can do well, consciously.

My back aches with an elders pain at late seventeen.

I crave the warm embrace of my bed but am too stuck like sap to move.

I'm rambling here in my brain instead of resting my frigid existence.

My thoughts are slow and choppy now with the hesitation of drifty words.

My rusted, chipping ears hear nothing but silence and a distant coo coo clock.

The chirps of a bird only found in my dark, dusty insanity.

How strange to be so immensely broken at such an age.

The world weighs upon children such as these in a universe such as this.

But do not listen to the exhausted ramblings of the new generation.

After all, it's what you're good at.

I'm just, tired. Tired..

~S.C. Kelley
Take it as you will. This **** is crazy.
Ken Voltaire Oct 3
In some twisted way,
I almost feel happy.
My body is tense,
My breathing rapid,
My mind skirts the edges of insanity.
My conscience hangs by a mere thread,
Dangling precariously over the edge.
In some twisted way,
I almost feel whole.
The dark that rapes me holds me steady,
It fills in the spaces otherwise unoccupied.
There are unexplored oceans,
Haunted by ghostly ships,
Rising high on the crest of the evening tide.
A beautiful, terrifying event to witness.
In some twisted way,
I see black as a colour.
The speck that grows in a distant corner,
Nearing its full force,
Is elegant.
Ever so gently, it drains my free will.
It absorbs my ambition, my desire to accomplish,
The very air in my lungs is anything but my own.
I am the black, just as the black is me.
In some twisted way,
I feel powerful.
The disdain I feel for myself,
Cannot be outweighed.
It moves, breathes death,
And with a mind of its own it consumes me.
Until, I have been overcome,
And the grass is grey,
Birds shriek in terror,
Waves crash violently against jagged stone,
Laughter turns to mockery,
Food is poison,
Sleep is a crypt,
Life is a tomb.
Amy Perry Oct 3
Scraggly,
In face and heart
Staggering
By the harbor,
A celebratory place
For families to flock
And sight-see the city
By the ships and the docks.
While the sea gulls fight
Over scrimpy scraps,
A lone man traverses,
Seized by mind traps.
Disoriented by the shadows
Of his past,
Taunting and tampering
With his freedom, at last,
He's broken his vow of silence
He promised he could pass.
Reality so far removed
From his ruminations.
Passerby's passively wonder
What attracted him to the concrete.
Overactive imagination
Is an answer I'd repeat.
Occasionally another may marvel,
Where is his family?
Waiting in vain,
In the background,
In the rain,
Devoid of way to entertain
The possibility to take the reigns
Away from his deceptive beast
That guides his woeful way,
Fighting for fistfuls of his feast -
A price he has to pay
For having an untreated illness.
Now I have no say
In pillows or cement.
He chose the latter.
Now all I can do is feel lament.
If you see my father,
You may see kindness in his eyes,
A mind that's rapidly firing,
Comforting words to himself he's ironing.
If you see my father -
You may see him time and again,
You may see him in the sea gull,
Harmlessly scavenging,
Heartily conversing,
Heartbreakingly existing -
If you see my father,
Let him exist
However he chooses.
I have no choice
But to do the same.
abp 10/02/18
ValBee Oct 2
wrists marked by your terror and violence
screams that i kept to mask my resistance

i don't wanna be here anymore
be overshadowed by you and your terror

twisted and turned by your diabolical stare
you wrecked me, shredded nothing else to bare

i don't want this anymore
be choked and stepped on whenever you're a bore

silently, i died and you witness it every night
but to you it seems that it is a precious sight

i don't want you anymore
be awaken by your frightening roar

i beg you stop stepping out my closet,
stop getting in to my brain...

before i lost it.
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