A friend once told a girl I liked that I was obsessed with death
and I yelled and screamed as I denied it but it must have
too much for her as she walked away and never talked to me again
that night I punched the wall till my hand bled
it was that or the knife
that’s a lie I never cut myself why would I write that?
I was probably looking for attention that’s what they say isn’t it
it’s only for attention not because I don’t know how to feel
or how to deal with my emotions not because
I can’t talk to my friends
I’ll never say how much it hurts and so they’ll never know
Sometimes they do know though and they ask and I lie
Saying everything is fine when I just wait for them
to go so I can cry
but I’m just looking for attention so what do I know
now I wonder if my friend was right
the day he told a girl I liked that
I was obsessed with death truth be told
the thought of death does bring me comfort
Not suicide gods no but the idea of an
eternal sleep free of anxiety or emotions
to trouble me does seem quite tempting
and now I write poems about my emotions
trying to put into words what I don’t understand
and hoping someone relates
truth is I never liked that girl all that much
and my heart is dead but not quite
and life is grand I mean horrible and
love is everything but also a lie and this poem
is like my mind:
a chaotic cacophony of thoughts and feelings all mixed into one.
First time I've ever written in this style, it was fun
How do I know if I'm me?
How do I know if I'm lying to myself?
How do I know if I'm not someone else?
What parts of me are real?
Who is this soul inside me?
How come I barely know her?
What does she feel?
What is she pressured to think?
Is she brave?
What does she believe?
What are her dreams?
Does she love the life she lives?
Or is she just getting by?
How do I know if she's me?
Or just a passerby?
Why am I so sad all the time? Am I lost? Am I the result of my past? Am I my fears? If I'm always changing, am I even myself? Am I behind of where I should be? Am I a disappointment? Am I alive?
a fortunate mixed complexion
comprising of liberating schemes.
the unnatural routine
followed by beings with hindered genes
i see them upload themselves in a virtual scene.
i look up to them, twice
remix the visuals with binaural beats
to keep me levitating
before breaking into a fragmented
they’ve preached their nuisance to me
i’ve definitely caught an anomaly
i’ve heard them fabricating speech into something humble and noble
i’ll wait till it’s my turn to be
i’ll spit radiation like Chernobyl
to obliterate the ever growing regime.
they speak up to my senses
to attain the consent of the
eternal and beyond
with an upright movement
momentum i gain
from forthcoming sonder
while wandering down to the streets
you’re listening to city dreams
lean back, chime in
with psychedelic scenes
sidetracked to prevent hindrance
from the beings that are of obscene nature
i’ve seen a lot of those
by ******* onto the future
still stuck up on the yet coming past
trying to get grips on the titular concept
there’s authority with the ones who kept it flowing
rugged strength no guffawing
headed straight to the delirious ends of the rope
always falling but never out of hope
the stream that quenches the guilt of those
showing up with guns just to pinch a loaf
come back to the present
im here to steal the philosopher’s stone
getting ****** just to soar
above the stratosphere
i went straight out of the blue sphere
where i got to see the blues that fill up the majority of the crust
****** back to my grounds
the velocity burned my rust
thats a leap higher than the nukes
get to my location
ask the Everest where im at
it’ll point up to me and i’ll wave back
but there’s a truth thats yet to be told
i held the meeting of gods that weren’t sold
nobody showed up
neither the young nor the old
except avowed fakes that claim to be woke
another rant....i've been trying not to force myself into writing anything...that just brings in a lot of unwanted and unnecessary stress...it's been a while since i last wrote a proper piece...but...that just goes on to say that im occupied and alright...it's good enough for now.
i see light coming for me, i predict a better day, some people live it instead, is happiness an option we throw away and only catch when our instincts tells us to, is it someone you want to hold dearly shining light into your soul, filling you with warmth and poetry, everlasting happiness indeed, to release the sadness this life weighs with that someone and discover living through the magic that comes with.
While even in my
Socks and Boots
I say my trigger finger's
Why so laffy
Just watch me
As I set up like a
In pocket spoofs
Man I'm here to Nuke
As I demonstrate
And play the flute
Like I'm spooked
At the speed of
( Pause )
That's how I
Quik freestyle ( My trigger finger is my pen by the way )
i am tired.
tired of life, i guess.
every day seems to drag on, page by page.
i am slowly withering away.
i don't even pretend anymore, because pretending is exhausting
and i don't have the energy.
i think i want to die but really, i just want to live again.
i am worried about myself.
i am worried about where i am going.
i just need help.
i just need someone..
i am tired.
and i wish it would just go away.
I'm Mentally Ill
Are running down my
spine.. at will
What? Another panic attack?!
But yet, I can't sit still.. until
Man, I gotta settle down
I must get a grip.. I gotta,
For the walls are closing in
Be closing in on itself.. And I'm stuck
A rock and a hard place
Ok ok.. Breath.. Inhale
First, Let me gather myself
And get a grip on Life,
Hold on airtight.. Alright?
Yo, I think I'm good
Just a off the top of the dome freestyle rant about panic attacks
I’m really sad
and I don’t know if it’s because
of the world?
or if it’s all the natural disasters?
or if it’s just my head?
or if it’s because of this pandemic?
or if my meds are off?
or if it’s because they keep canceling everything that keeps me motivated to stay alive?
I don’t know why I’m sad?
I know one day I am going to look back and miss this part of my life..
yet I can’t enjoy it in the moment.
so I live my life hating myself for being sad when I have so much to be happy about.
then I get more depressed because I know I’m going to be sad in five years when I remember that I didn’t fully enjoy all of the good things in my life,
because I was too busy hating myself for
being so sad.
I know I will look back and remember how my head was filled with dark storm clouds and the stupid forecast said those clouds are staying for awhile..
all this rain from the clouds
tears from my eyes
make it hard to see clearly.
I can’t get this bad weather to clear up.
I cry a lot.
I’m just sad.
I’m just really sad.
I hate me
Paternal mountains holding
knees as I a brook
laugh and gurgle
off tousled hair
I cry at broken
dolls that make me sad
and get presents
smelling faintly of
sticky, warm Azaleas.
I moan as I tear small ivory chunks with sickening thuds,
l grasp the pulsating pulp.
With lower lashes, I offer
to the ravenous fire that consumes in its unquenchable desire that destroys and laughs, that baits me to bark.
Ah! Look at the night
dressed up like a *****.
No is three letters, yes is two.
Every man a tattoo artist branding his initials for free.
Tell me, does purple look striking against melanin attire?
I get paper cuts
from words slicing off penetrating tongues
and I scream, muffled inside a dream.
Groping at flecks of sandy sunshine, waiting to be
One of my personal favorites :)
Why is this boy acting like I'm interested?
Persistent like I'm playing hard to get
I'm happily in love, I'm committed
Does this boy thinks he is actually a threat?
He has someone and still wants another
She's a keeper, when its over, he'll regret
No thank you, not a chance, goodbye lover
Bid you adieu, cant take this girl into your bed