Trees along the road

continue to grow as if --


nothing had happened.

No one tells you that the hard part about dying is surviving
                    

                     Coming to terms with your end
                           but its only the beginning of a new end
                                                                                      

                                                                                          I mourned for life

I am the boy who sits at the back of the class; I am the myth and legend, that you have never heard laugh.

I am the eloquent, who so seldom speaks "Good day." and "Goodbye."
I am the b r o k e n, though you will never see me; p a r t i a l or cry.

I am the Lie.

I am the Lie, well housed in the illusion of an ever-present smile.

I am the wary traveller, exhausted yet still encouraging others to walk the extra mile.

I am the dying and ill, who screams to others. "Keep surviving and living, hold fast to your will; life once truly lived, has both bad and good."

I am a human... for better or worse. I am a duality to all others; either a blessing or a curse.

I am a song sang, though others remember only a verse... I am a play, that has been exhaustively rehearsed.

The word peace
Conjures up images of hippies
In tie dye shirts
And flowers in their hair
But Personal peace
Now there is something there
Bubbles floating
In the steaming bath tub
That makes me feel like
A rose petal
In a hibiscus tea
Melting me into
A softer side of me
As I dose to sleep

Mornings rise
And I breath in
Breath out
Mantra moments
Spent with an app
That filters into my body
And let’s go of the crap
Of noises and neighbors
Of people who blather
On and on
This stream
A river
Of unconscious anger
Yet it has become a leaf
In my tree
I breath in
I breath out
Letting my branches stretch
Farther
As I repeat the mantra
I embrace all of the good in me
I embrace love, life and harmony

My heart is beating rhythmically
 In resonance to the beat of 'End Of Time’.
My soul is breathing in tranquility,
In response to the gleaming full moon.
My body is surviving poetically
In reply to the poetries I write.

Here is a poem

I made it from the words I found on buses, newspapers, blowing in the afternoon wind
and in daydreams.
And from the words you never told me..
Like "I won't give up on you"
Or "I'm staying".
I assembled them along with the leftover words from my suicide notes.

Just for you.
Just like how our lost brothers used to make them.
Or would've.
I want to see these words living on your lips.
Or falling down your cheek.
Or Running Along Your Wrists
OR WRAPPED AROUND YOUR NECK
Or even just reflected at the back of your eye.

In the hope that you'll receive a call at 3am on a Sunday morning about these words.

Then hear them again on the evening news.
About how they were found ISOLATED, HANGING in the dark,
AND SPILLING ACROSS THE ROOM.
Haunting it for centuries to come.
Let them talk about how it was the words.
Instead of one of us.

A smile tugs at my lips
Yet a tear falls from my eye
I cannot seem to find happiness
Without endlessly asking why
I had to suffer all I did
And why I suffer still
Have I lost the girl I used to be
Has all the pain broken my will
And changed me into someone else
Someone who’s not quite there
Who’s always a word away from darkness
Who can taste sadness in the air
And I stare into a mirror
And wonder what it is I’ve lost
Has the price of all this been to high
Can I still afford the cost
Is there enough strength left inside of me
To fight this hard each day
Or is this all just futility
My final useless attempt to stay
But I decided I had come to my end
And I felt it in my soul
And now that I have to live with that decision
I don’t believe I ever will be whole
So I take one step after another
And I clasp my hands into fists
I collect together all my remaining pieces
To have the courage to just exist

if i make it through this winter
then i can learn to live alone
my tea grows cold while i hold it
talking to your ghost
hurt past the point of healing
comfortably numb, but always bleeding
i’d swallow my tongue to keep from speaking
living with your ghost

Condemn me to death
Torture this flesh
Still
I will not bow
To your empty lies

Here I stand
Alone in the rain
I tread upon the cobble
Absorbing my surroundings
An emotional sponge

A constant tug-of-war
Meet the expectations
Try to live their dreams
Or
Give in
Let go
Don't be their puppet

Choose, **** it!

Well,
More so **** me

When did I
Become so cold?
When did I
Become so numb?

Where's the person I used to know?
Where are my feelings?
Scattered about
Lost to one another
Making me unable to function
I want to feel something
Be normal
It crashes around me
I just watch it

Lifted up
Told all is well
Convinced by lies
Held by the demons
Painted like faces I know
Then pricked
By their thorns
Of reality

Bleeding
Dripping
Maybe one day
They would see it
But no
5 years and still
They see a "happy" child

The closer they try to get
The more hurt I make them
So then
I push them away
Save them from myself...
From this monster I have become

Listening to my heart
Not the lub-dub it's supposed to be
Whispering to me
Spiders webs swaying
One bites
My blood is the venom
Black as my tainted soul

Tired of living with no defense
Can you understand
Where I'm coming from?
I'm sick of surviving
When I'm supposed to be living...

- Jay M
May 27th, 2019