It all starts like a brick,
shifting in your head.
You wish it'd just be lightning quick,
but it often tends to stay instead.
It makes you question everything,
No, you're not dead.
It's all in your head.
Just go back to bed.
By the way, you can't fix your problem with a med.
It's a cry
It's a scream
It's a begging self-philosophy.
I hold it up with a lie.
If it were a dream,
it wouldn't feel so real to me.
A storm in your mind,
all the creatures combine,
building up pressure,
they'll say that you're fine.
But that's not true,
they will lie to you,
then say there is nothing they can do.
They will fake,
your mind will bake.
It's not a feeling you can shake.
A lot is at stake.
I know where you go.
Digging yourself a dark, lonely hole.
Scratching out death, is your goal.
My migraine, is like a permanent stain.
Killing me; driving you insane.
I count the days like a prisoner in a cage.
I know how it feels, I still stand upon that stage.
Trying to withstand the rage,
and flip page by page,
but you can't even engage.
Since I was a kid,
it was no secret what the pain did,
yet I never hid.
I would just explode,
and be the kill you'd discover on the road,
maybe one day they will find a code.
And we all walk a lane,
for those who suffered this pain,
the agony of the grain.
That mysteriously grows in our brain.
Do not attempt to deconstruct
the hierarchical structure
of all your mind holds dear
Linger in silence, or its absence,
taking tiny pained
sips of organic genmaicha
Let your words slither
freely, prying your lips open
even as they burn in their escape
Look for answers beyond gadgets;
no technological craze can even begin
to emulate the complexity of the human brain
I can't sleep without you.
My dreams are filled with pain.
I remember too much of what I've seen and felt,
And in the morning all I remember is pain and fear.
On bad days,
I can't stand to see
You giving more of your attention
To someone else.
And even though I know it's a fallacy
Created by my mind's illnesses,
My brain immediately jumps to
It's because they're prettier than you.
It's because she's more confident.
It's because you're not making the same kind of progress as she would be.
And on good days, and then out of spite on bad days,
I want to tell you, softly,
"Please stop trying to fix me.
I'm not broken."
But the sad truth is,
But you still can't fix me.
I don't want you to.
That's my job.
I used to think I was a bad person.
Because I am jealous.
And I am insecure,
But I am not bad.
Yes, I am jealous.
I am insecure.
I am spiteful.
I am sarcastic.
And I am withdrawn.
But I'm also warm to those you need it,
And I have compassion that goes on for days.
I'm good at holding my tongue,
And I would never actually hurt someone,
Unless it was somehow to protect them.
There's not much to like about me.
But I've found some of it.
But after all these revelations and epiphanies,
I still can't sleep
Just Let It In
of this language,
is damaging to me.
how can there possibly
exist such an impeccably
imposing combination of
words that still manage to destroy
a soul as wasted as mine? somehow
words discover these fine little cracks in
my wall, as thin as the head of a pin. words
are like water, rushing into whatever space they
can invade, occupying whatever volume they discover.
this water trickles through the fragmented spaces, traveling
all the way to my heart, transforming me in the way they seem to
alter us all. it is these words that i take with me. words reverberate in my mind,
disrupt me to my core, degrade me. your words are the ones i perpetually carry with me...
any...all of them. yours are the ones that elicit the simultaneous firing of every
single neuron in my brain. there is something about the magic of your words
flowing together...whispered into my ear. they move through me like
a stealthy, lone snake, undulating in a field, stalking its defenseless
prey; slowly...at first glance, not appearing to be a perilous threat
...then piercing me all at once with fierce strength and
determination, devouring me without appearing to
acknowledge that maybe i still...still want to be.
to be whole. and i do. my body craves
the sensation of being complete,
not torn apart by the nonsense
of your daunting words
disrupting my spirit
and making me
i wish i could
void your words
from my brain, but
my mind is helplessly
inconsistent; i can never
forget what i long to,
what i must; and
my peculiar mind
certainly will never
forget the sound
of your words,
just like water,
And I recall that when I first l laid my eyes upon him, I knew that he was the one for me. I think he knew too. It was the power of the look we exchanged, the magnetism of it, the electricity, the immense power of the force of attraction. He had something in him that was irresistible and that something drew me to him like a moth to a flame. My heart sunk into the deep confines of my body, my eyes were ravenous for him, my body yearned for him. As if the world had suddenly ceased to exist, as if nothing else mattered in the world and all I wanted was to be with you and know you inside and out, know you better than you know yourself. Love at first sight does not exist, it is impossible to come to love a man at first glance, to understand him, to trust him. It is possible to be infatuated with him. It is possible to be consumed with his face, his nose, his eyes...to be in lust at first sight. But this lust grows, yes this lust swells into love and my life is empty without you here and my heart needs you to pump the blood through my veins and my brain needs you to tell me how to speak again and my hand needs you to be here to firmly hold it. A seed was planted with that first look and was watered with words and touches, and the seed grew to be the size of the universe plus everything in it and more than that. We are on fire and our sparks fuel the flames.
When I don’t have a camera, all that’s left are words,
Wrapping themselves around my brain, a hotel nest for birds,
The rooms inside are all filled up, booked with imagery,
Keys for beds are handed out, the visuals are free,
To float around my nest like brain, a cornucopia of sorts,
See words and pictures go along, like well rehearsed cohorts.
So since a photo isn’t an option, my goal then is to write,
Describing to my audience how imagination takes flight,
I’m watching my youngest brother shout and leap around,
Diving behind a couch turned trench, praying to not be found,
By his imaginary enemies, carrying imaginary guns,
And on his face Is realistic fear, though I know he’s having fun.
But listen while I go deeper, into more detail,
About his determined self pep talk, vowing not to fail,
And though I can’t really see, what he grips so tight,
His tiny, cenched fists tell a story, about his best friend in this fight,
In reality he’s wearing jeans, but to him it’s camouflage,
And when silent sirens scream nuclear warnings, he sprints to the garage,
As I sit and watch him flee, commanding his faux friends,
I hope that even when he grows up, his imagination never ends.
Click, Click, flip the switch.
Cut away the awful itch.
Scratch until you go insane.
Laughing voices plague your brain.
Decaying carcass in the ditch.
Look, she’s different; burn the witch.
Waxing moon begins to wane.
Mirrors broken by the vain.
Needles threading make a stitch.
Never knowing which is which.
From everything you want, abstain.
Hopeless dreams washed down the drain.
Freedom always has a hitch.
Kill the poor to feed the rich.
Innocence you try to feign.
Give up and let the voices reign.
Out of frustration
I broke my phone screen
nobody is going to call me anyway.
Rather your not going to call me anyway
Months have passed
Seasons have changed
And on this day of rememberance
I took every picture of you from my broken phone
and placed it into my picture folder
As I peruse though the memories
and picture yesterday;
My phone screams out a sound i had not heard in quite awhile.
So loud my heart almost stopped and my brain ran wild
Your ringtone, on the very second i click ok to save,
alerted me that you sent a text message today.
a text message...of all things, a text message...