Crafted from the finest materials,
the value increases with time.
You're on top, new, hot.
State of the art from the start,
they all want to say "you're mine".
Meanwhile my worth can be
related to a bankruptcy,
a legacy of mediocrity.
How does trash shine
when light reflects off you?
Does even the ugliest of all
look pretty from your point of view?
You are Persephone coaxing riverbeds of lush green to flourish from each man’s desolate home
And as romantic as this seems;
if something isn’t your burden to carry,
You have no obligation to.
You may be tempted to pick up other people’s trash to spin them into gold,
but save some of that compassion for a rainy day.
You’ve got enough of your own baggage to deal with.
Heal yourself before you heal others.
In programming, it's the place of discarded code
In my memory, the things unwanted in, and on the road
At work, it overflows with words and deeds of peers
At home, it is persistent litany, of "yes of course, my dear"
I ponder and wonder all the time, words and places I have cached
Filling and emptying, bit bucket containers, going out with the trash
I play Magic: The Gathering.
I play video games.
I do both as a means of break in mundanity.
I suppose the way a person reads,
The way a person watches a movie.
Stories within stories in words and then
More stories within pictures
The picture part is great because I can't draw.
I mean I can't write code or balance over
Twenty years of game mechanics but words,
I've got words. I've got the best words.
I smoke weed and I have a lot of weird fetishes
I don't know why. To both of those things.
I have no idea. Weed makes me paranoid and sleepy.
It does other things, too, but I can't describe it well.
I can't describe it clearly. I like drinking pee,
But I've never peed on someone else, so I don't
Know if I'm down with that. I'll have sex with anyone,
But disclaimer, I won't have sex with just anyone,
If you catch my drift. Penis, vagina, whatever, doesn't
Matter but I prefer my fellow queer, or queer minded,
You fucking sickos. I just like getting my mouth on things.
Someone well learned in human sexuality might be
Able to shed some light on that.
I chain smoke and I neglect myself.
And I do both because I am one depressed, self loathing
Fucker with a half hearted death wish or some shit.
I cling really tightly to naivety, but not because I want
It enough to have it around all the time.
I'd say it's only so I don't go down that road again
And self destruct. Figure that one out.
chrysanthemums grow underneath your skin and when you cut it, they bloom.
this is why initially, it feels good.
but after constant exposure to sunlight and air pollution and noise, the scars fade and the flowers begin to die.
so do yourself a favor and protect the hidden treasure that is a garden -
put down the razor.
certain things are best kept unseen.
you called me trash, a piece of garbage
so i collected myself and analyzed what
i brought to the table.
i thought about what i could manage
and determined the effectiveness of
my current strategies
but i concluded that i wasted my
time sorting through my problems.
© Matthew Harlovic
You threw me away
Like I was nothing
you won't even look at me
You lied when you told me
I wasn't your next girl
You lied to me when you told me
you loved me
I was nothing of value to you
I was just
a future piece of trash to you
what did I do that was so bad
Why don't you love me
I know I can't fix things
but what is alive for me is the heat from the agony
The word feels foreign on my tongue
Actions make me run and hide
As if no one could ever love someone
As hideous and dirty as me
That's what you want me to believe
That no one will ever love me for the way I am.
So you sit there and whisper in my ear
It's okay, he can touch you like that, this isn't wrong
But it is
He should treat me better.
For a while,
I told myself that I would figure you out
I would understand why you are the way that you are
I would fix you
But it was never that simple
Sometimes, people hurt people just to hurt them
As if they find pleasure in it
You loved to watch me squirm under your knife.
I always thought you loved me
But now the fog has cleared
And I see that it was lust.