An outlet. All I need is an outlet. To get it all out, out, out. So I can shout, shout, shout. Shout that I’m worth it, not useless That I can get something, anything done Because I can I can I know I can It’s just a matter of happening Because I can I can I know I can I’ve just got to do it If I can write a story, if I can translate a piece, if I can draw or read the right things But its all an if And ifs dont make dreams come true Ifs dont truly promise anything, anything at all So here I am Her I am Feeling guilty and useless and-no no no I don’t like the self pity and I disagree with it I also hate how I keep insisting I am the problem But I am So what So what so what so I must do somethough though Something to vent and let it out So write Or draw Do something as long as its something or even nothing is fine Please calm down Can I though? And outlet, I need an outlet, And now we’ve come full circle Back to poetry
Is it sweet yet like a scorpion tail stings? Do you really remember Not to sink but swim? Warm crimson casualties cascade delicately down a cupid’s bow row row row yourself in my boat gently down this fatalistic dream.
can't get out of the house can't get out of my head nothing to be said no need to leave my bed what a day flipping hay what to do what to say could pick up food but to save money we stay inside my mind a constant rhyme a song plays on repeat on this line straight on again find myself a slap of butter stick melt me on repeat into these sheets turn up the heat feeling weak i finally speak up on what's going on inside is the world I carry on with this poem
They left me alone when I was young The monsters did But I got bored of being myself Plain and simple And they told me it would be fun They made my blood pump And the serotonin flooded my brain But they started to take over Their tastes grew darker It got harder to push them aside I started losing control So I learned to channel them To write their desires To control the pleasure from the dark depths Now these words are what remain My only fix The solitary outlet For the monsters inside
It didn't matter. We didn't matter. "I saw you and felt nothing." "I saw...you know...and felt something." That's what you said to me. You don't want to keep hurting me. You didn't want to keep lying. Those statements didn't make a difference when I confronted you, crying.
"Honestly, you're sick." Disgust and a sour taste filled my mouth. Your feelings for me are too intense? That was the same for me. Notice how that sentence was in past tense. You couldn't breathe for a second? You didn't think about your lapse in judgement? I'm not asking for the world, which you wouldn't be able to give. I'm asking for the respect, r the prospect.
Now I'm here, confused. Tell me what am I supposed to do? Hold your hand and be a healer or slap it away because of fear.