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Anonymous Dec 2018
I.
Most days I’m great,
I’m pretty average looking but I’ve got a personality
That’s much bigger than my physical body
I’m goofy more than I’m serious
And I procrastinate more than I should
Most people call me the energizer bunny;
Always running around brining energy and smiles
Most days, that’s me.
Just your average normal person;
Not every day is perfect…
There are good days,
                      bad days,
                             better days,
                                  worse days &
                                         worser than worst
                                                          ­           d
                                                                        a
                                                     ­                      y
                                                        ­                       s


II.
How can a day be so bad that you make up your own version of “worse” you ask?
Well those days go something like this:
The air is heavy,
My senses are heightened
I can feel every droplet on my back
My lungs are tight, but not quite tight enough to be suffocating
My throat is dry, I can’t tell if I’m burning hot or freezing cold.
I get dressed, I go about my day.
There are good things.
There are bad things.
The bad things always stick on these kinds of days.
Inevitably, I can feel my anxiety begin to grow
It begins burning in my chest first,
I can feel the toxic attitude begin to bubble beneath my skin
Destroying everything inside
I am painted red with an unexplainable anger and rage
I sit alone, until my anger devours itself feeding on its toxic irrational thoughts


III.
This is when it happens, the (worser than worst)
It’s always when I let myself let go of the anger,
When my voice resumes its normal tone and pitch,
When my breathing is in sync with my heart,
And my once raging and thrashing thoughts
Begin to quiet and wind themselves down
It’s always when things start to feel okay again
Then it happens.
I’m walking in a crowded subway station
Hundreds of voices around me, yet they all drown out each other
Until a loud one breaks through the rhythmic hum of a busy commuter city
My body responds automatically searching for the noise
I see her in the distance,
Dressed in all black
For how cold it is, she’s not wearing nearly enough
She’s old.
Her face tells stories
Through the hard-pressed lines and crevices of her weather-beaten skin,
Her skin shows it all,
A Face that has laughed, cried, and experienced
Her eyes are glazed over
Chills run down my spine so suddenly I’m almost startled
It’s the eyes,
It’s always the eyes, they always trigger me
I can feel you in the atmosphere
Pressing your cold pale lips to my ear and whispering
“You couldn’t save me”
“You’re forgetting me”
“I won’t let you forget me”
I stand motionless trying to will my body to move
It doesn’t.
I watch the woman for a bit longer
Lost in her own world, eyes glazed over and lost
I feel sorry for her and then I feel it
Like all the muscles inside of me are suddenly limp and weak
With all my effort I push my feet off the ground
So, focused I don’t notice the tears streaming down my cheeks
I walk away in disappointment
I do what I do best,
I leave
And as I do, I hold my breath
And count
I count until the numbers feel right
And until I force myself to forget your presence
And the lingering guilt that still takes root
In the void you left behind.

IV.
Most days I’m great,
Just your average normal person,
Most days are easy enough to get through,

It’s the few days,
The ones spread so thin throughout the year
The days that remind me
That eyes are truly gateways into other places
It’s those days
That being to engulf the great days
Beneath its roots of your memory
And I am reminded that after all of these years,
If you can manage to keep resurrecting yourself
Through the people still on this planet
Than my words, will once again resurrect with you.
For you.
There's too much of this city in me,
Too many memories, and
too many faces
that don't remember me.
Someone wanted my body, and it
made me remember how much I wanted to die.
It made me ask who would ever put their heart
in the hands of this bearded villain.
The struggle to be human
killed my ambition.
Sandoval Jun 2017
You* said you would love me,

until the end of your days.

Well I believe you died not long after that,
and resurrected from stones.

You no longer love me,

and your memory aches in these bones.


*Sandoval
Peninsula Jul 2016
Once my body is sprawled across the sands
of an uninhabited island--
a peninsula that has never been owned
but owns me--

and I have been drowned twice.
When the only sensation in my body
is apathy chewing a hole through my cheeks,
I will save my last breath for you to take.

And you could breathe it back to me
if you ever find where I am
I was talking with my friend the other day about how there is that kind of love that even when you feel like all life is taken away from you, it will breathe life back to you.
Viseract May 2016
Construction
Destruction
Death
Resurrection

Collection
Fixation
­Dictation
Relation

Construct
Destroy
Death to all
Recall

Isn't it funny how
Something can be created?
Then at the change of heart
Your mind has destruction fixated?

You call for the heads of those
Who tear apart you world
When they are soon dealt with
The real you is resurrected.

You then collect the pieces,
They are now your fixation
Other are telling you how to rebuild
From friends and blood relation

Slowly but surely,
Piece by piece
You reconstruct the world
That had lain in pieces

Then you destroy it
Because you've had enough
And bring death to all
To vent the life that you made rough

And then you expect your friends
Who you just destroyed
To come at your beck and call
When you pushed them in the void?

Get real
You brought this on *yourself
The delusional never fail to surprise...
Silencer Nov 2015
Just stay sad
Let your feelings grow
Ignite them with what kills you most
And burn
Burn until you cannot shout
Burn until the fires out
Until there's nothing left but ash

Then when you're ready to rebuild
And all your scars have healed
Let go
And never remember
Put your emotions to sleep like a snowy night in December
Don't bury the memory alive. Let it die.

— The End —