Get used to fall, crawl,
step up, then fall again, with faults we rise, we get roses and thorns. From life we learn, for death we live, each in our own fields we reach our peaks. Smiling and weeping, losing and seeking, steady and stubborn our seeds are ruined. Fools are small-minded, the wise learn from actions some lives are electable to manipulate. Hopes are crushed I repeat myself, I yell but they never hear my time's a waste. Don't think I'm strong if I lose my mind and get myself together in less than a heartbeat, that's all my life.
Turning in this day
Turning over in dismay For here, as I lay, Comforted in these sheets A chill turns to a burning blaze My mind trapped in a dizzying haze Aching muscle and raspy tone Weakness cripples every bone Shallow comes each breath That escapes my parched lips To countless others it foretold death Filmed in countless clips But, not for I Not in this day, not this time Not in this peculiar rhyme For here I shall not die To recover To grow stronger Prepare for what may come The war is not yet over With hope, it won't be much longer For this great disease we shall overcome. - Jay M June 3rd, 2021
I'm fully vaccinated now, but have been experiencing the side effects of the vaccine since last night. I'll be okay by the end of the day, and back to my healthy self.
High were the hills
That will climbed But My love, how spectacular the view.
Cockfail You’re drunk again Mixed drink Mixed emotions Try thinking sober Multiple shots Multiple plots You keep ordering Pitcher perfect Picture perfect From drunk eyes Hungover again Hungover pain Still same problems Alcohol calls Alcohol falls Your name again You answer You catch Maintaining the pattern Alone, afraid Alone, unsafe Numb the pain You feel You need But you don’t Your week You’re weak Put the bottle Down now Move on Overcome the pain Don’t count Don’t love Your buzz more Than yourself Than health You got this You can You will If you try Angry sober Happy buzzed Sad when drunk Regretful after Disappointed after But then you Drink more Drink none Break the pattern
My demons can't get out of my head,
They yell so hard I'm nearly dead. So many voices, which one do I follow? The loudest one is full of sorrow... I'm not myself at the moment, Or is my true self restrained by torment?
I am not a flower.
I do not bloom just by the glorious rays of sunshine in the spring. I am not obliterated by just the mere changing of the seasons to the next. I do not wither away when my world starts to darken and bitter coldness swallows up the warmth of the sun. I am not this fragile thing, or delicate, to the winter's icy storms. The falling of dead, dull leaves to the Earth beneath my feet will not be the burial to my very life source. No. You can not reborn something that had never been destroyed. I am not a flower. I am a survivor- in the light and in the dark.
To love and
to loose. To need and to greed. Too much and you're left too little and you bereft.
Take a deep breath
Dizzy, dazed, and sedated,
nightly rinse bleaching brains, slowly spinning me apart. Roses flashing on screen, withered. Worshiping at the Pantheon, novocaine for the brain. My habitual easy friends. Lust conquering love. Lights go out! Alone in the dark. Guiltless shame, I'll quit after tomorrow.
If you understand the poem, you'll understand the struggle that many deal with. I'm with you! Resistance is possible.
I let what you
thought about me, and said about me, matter more than what I knew about me. Way too intertwined with your sickness and cruelty. Far too beat down under your brutal regime. Nowadays, I wake up overjoyed that I now live the obvious. Who gives a **** what you think?
This poem is dedicated to Chester Bennington lead singer of Linkin Park, rip Chester, you gentle soul.