-
All the eyes
Turn over here
There is something
Entertaining and Interesting that
Needs you to pay notice
To it  , so
Invest some energy here
On something that will
Not dissapoint.

what if i told you
i still count the clock until it hit 2
what if i told you
your ache still making me blue
what if i told you
your smile is giving me a clue
a clue that my soul is still longing for you

what if i told you
i still wait for the days to passed through
what if i told you
i almost fell for every i love yous
what if i told you
the pain didnt stop me from needing you
but what if i told you
you dissapoint me enough
enough to scare me away from running back to you

Scream into the darkness
Without a sound
Weakling
Powerless miscreant

Buried by ash
And trampled by a thousand footsteps
A thunderous roar rips through the night
My desire to reconnect is devoured
By my craving for...

Subterranean hedonism

Exhausted from the surface
I burrow into fantasies of sunken darkness
I have tried to blend into the world
But people continue to dissapoint me

Bones ground to ash and thrown to the wind
My last burials rites
I had hoped it wouldn't come to this
But there is no hope...there is only me

“Why not?”

The question seems so silly—childish even—and yet it is the single question we most likely will fail to answer. Why not let me have one more candy? Surely that candy would not be the fast demise of my teeth, sending me to the dentists with rotted roots and gums. Why not dance in the rain? The clothes will dry as the sun will rise and merry memories will have been collected. Why not allow yourself to open your heart?


Ah, the ever-slippery question: why not love? Even more slippery still, the answer; but though it is well known that love is great and powerful, power and greatness leave in their wake fear and destruction—for to give unto another so wholly and completely is to lose some of yourself for the sake of the other; essentially, an emotional diffusion. Perhaps it is this fear that we are losing ourselves at our own hand but for another that terrifies us.


Or maybe it is the fear that others will dissapoint us that has made this generation the lonely and sorrowed. Often, I find myself listening to the people around me put their self worth into the way another person perceives them—and only ever do they find morose disappointment. When ever do people live up to the expectations we bequeath them? The answer is never. We always expect too much; and because mind-reading is not yet a feasible science—we are washed each day with frustration and confusion. Why doesn’t he understand how I feel? Why not?


We’ve begun to whine and self-pity our mouths dry.


It’s time that we realize that it isn’t a question of “Why not?” but a question of, “Why not yet?” For we have so much potential brewing beneath us; we have literally moved mountains and charted the stars. Our virtual realities which have so often robbed us of true interaction need to stand aside as real world action and self providing takes place.


Because why not?

Last year, you were gracious
We sat attentively listening to your endless commentary
on the making of coffee and watched carefully as you used your two hundred dollar
coffee machine and grinder to munch up cooked beans and
make them into brown slightly oily bean juice
and so long as we were sufficiently impressed, we could partake.

This year, you gossip behind the scenes
approach people about what to do about me
drinking your coffee creamer, which is also special
and you stare at me with a look that seems to want
me to make your world flourish and grow and the sun to shine
on you every day and to renew your life with my heartfelt amazement
at your being
like a mother at her newborn child

And I am only trying to survive, and you have plenty of coffee creamer
so I can't even make it up to you, and I do not share your worry
that someday, you might open up the now crowded fridge and find nothing
I do not understand this kind of devastation
It seems petty and silly to someone like me who has woken up
to the blood and guts and body meat scattered around
her own life and had to scramble and fear and survive somehow

So when confronted, there's nothing I can do
but apologize, and I dissapoint again by not sharing things in common with you
and this angers you and you behave like an ignored child because I'm supposed
to share your world and interest and if not at least fake it because
that's what you need and I have the body of a mother
who is to give to the world who needs and needs
and that is supposed to be my job, my vocation
and my only wish in life

So I make my own bean juice and it's foul and rancid but I don't care
because the truth is, I never cared about your coffee
like a lover who is jaded and has given up, I was only faking it

They say,
  You could do so much better.
  Shoot for the stars not the clouds.
The thing is, what if I want to shoot for the clouds and the birds in life?
What if I'm scared to death of failure?
I can't even handle the idea of failing.
People don't understand that I am okay with mediocre.
I don't care if I am the very best.
I just want to be good enough.
I don't ask a lot of myself because I always dissapoint.
So now when they say
  You could do so much better.
I will reply
  Yes I know, but I don't want better.

to think
that at one point I was perfect
for you.
that I actually made you happy.
but now all I ever hear
is myself telling me every time I dissapoint you
and how much I messed up.
I try
everything in my power
to commend you and your feelings.
but now I feel like I have completely failed
both you and I.
so once again
ill apologize for my wrongs
and watch you walk away
just as easily as I watched myself
mess up once again.

i am not like the others;
with fluent words,
freely flowing from within,
like the rain so effortlessly falls.

i am part of the few that stop;
overthink because i may be wrong.
work up a cloud
of worry in my mind
that everything may crumble and fall.

will i succeed?
will i dissapoint?
the thought of speaking to others
is a storm within me;
my heart overwhemled by dominant cracks of thunder.


- j.m.d.

Sometimes I feel like crying,
Or even extremely, just dying,
Other times, people just be lying,
And I’m buying.

Is it fair to say I’m sad,
When I could just as easily get mad,
Because I know I am bad,
And my soul mate doesn’t love me, not even a tad.

Maybe it’s best to give up,
Give in while you still can, before you become a puppet.
But for her, the girl I keep in my heart’s not so treasured locket,
It wouldn’t be so bad, or would it?

If you’ve never felt happy,
Can you know what makes you completely,
And resolutely,
Lovely?

Now I’m going to change up the lines,
And maybe they won’t rhyme,
Because my heart is bumping faster and sadder,
I’m looking in a dark room, immortalized my
Blank heart, consumed by it’s own ruby red desires
Proving to be strong for any woman to sire,
As I push more and more people away,
And isolate myself behind a mask of foolishness
I live for your laughter, make fun of me please
I enjoy this disaster for it’s the only feeling that’s me
Ain’t no superman, no man inside,
Me but please give me a chance,
I’ll dissapoint, and at last
My task will be completed
And my casket my future, present, past.

I am my harshest critic,
And I dissapoint myself everyday.
But you never judge me,
You love me regardless.
And maybe I won't get a job with a desk,
Maybe I won't have holidays abroad,
Or a marriage and a house.
Maybe it will always be me,
And always you.
But I can throw this ball
I can do it all day.
'cause maybe I can't make myself happy,
But I can make you happy.
And you always cheer me up.
You're my Buddy.

People understand that I'm "insecure"
People understand that I don't take complements well
People understand that if you ask me what my strengths are I will struggle to give you a response

But what people don't understand is the utter hatred and loathing I have for myself as a person

If it wouldn't dissapoint someone I would rather be dead in a heart beat
I hate the life that Ive had and the life I forsee for myself and I know that all of it is my fault
Everything is my fault.
I am a bad person, and some how in my making the lines between riteous and evil where blurred infinitely

There is nothing good about me and nothing of value and I itterly disgust myself
So when people yell at me or critize me I often come off as arrogant by my lack of defensiveness and or solution because I am already so vividly and fully aware of the piece of **** **** that I am

I think if people really got that I would make a lot more sense to them and I could get away with a lot more

In the mean time
while it's raining in my head
I will blanket the only stars that lit in your sleep at night
beacause in my nights were restless in all my troubled worries of your burning sun
In the mean time
I will hide what I could not hold back from you all these times
... love
Where I can bring my worth up to strangrh
turn the pages and scibble about some kind of "grattitude" and other beautiful things that I can find
other than scribbling about heart aches and heart breaks of you
In the mean time
I will keep on going on with a weary head dugg down in the gutter somewhere wishing you can suffer all emotions suffered and transffer them unto you
In the meant time I will do the ******* do's and throw away the do nots so I may be at peace with myself
In the mean time when you search for me again like you normal had done before my gesture will change about you in that time
In the meant time I will hate in order to love again
but not for you
In the mean time men will swander compliment of taste of me while I suffer loyalty of mind, body, thought, and heart of you
In the mean time I will dissapoint God by doing my own will as to drowning in strong drink just to have the strength to finally drop you
In the mean time I will confide in air and space to cry and ache and toss and turn to cure this desease
which is you
In the mean time I will learn to forgive how you laughed at me because "I ain't ****" and for threatning to get another ***** at me.. what?!! just for ******* loving you?
so in the meant time...
in the mean time
I pray that God will help me through this burn
because I am so tired
of loving you.

© S.T. Rebel of Eden

Why am I having a breakdown now
I really needed to sleep tonight
I keep on thinking that everyone here
are the nicest people I've ever met
that they actually care about me
un the same minute
i think these people treat me like a piece if ****
That they could care less what happens to me
That if i left they would cheer
**** its hard to right ]
im sobbing
i need help so bad
therapist appointments are to far apart
no help left for those like me
maybe they are being nice
pitying the ******* i am
maybe everyone sees threw me
all the ******* hair-brained schemes
all the lies and manipulations
they see threw it all don't they
they are mocking me behind my back
they are just pretending to care
i know they are
who would ever want to care for a monster
a waste of space
its only a matter of time before i fail out of this program
and dissapoint my parents like i always knew i would

AT 2:35AM I WAS WEAK AND TEXTED YOU.
FOR THE FIRST TIME I TOLD YOU ABOUT MY BLEEDING WRISTS AND TEARY EYES.
YOU STILL HAVENT OPENED THE TEXT AND IM FULL OF FEAR BECAUSE IT'S NOW MORNING.
I DONT WANT TO SHOW YOU THE CUTS IVE SCATTERED ALONG MY DISTURBED BODY.
I HOPE YOU DON'T FEEL OBLIGATED TO SHOW ME FAKE AFFECTION.
I DON'T NEED YOU TO KISS MY SCARS FOR I KNOW THEY'RE UGLY AND YOU'RE TOO BEAUTIFUL FOR THAT.
ALL I WANT IS YOU TO TELL ME IT'S OKAY SO I CAN GO ON WITH MY SELF-HATE.
BLADES REFLECT MY OWN PERSONALITY IN THE MOONLIGHT.
TEARS REFLECT MY BURNING PAIN.
YOU'LL NEVER SEE THAT SIDE OF ME AND I KNOW BOYS DON'T LIKE SAD GIRLS.
SO I'LL SUPPRESS MY FEELINGS TO HURL MYSELF OFF A BUILDING.
OR TO JUMP INTO A LAKE WITH ANCHORS TIED ON MY ANKLES.
BECAUSE THAT'S WRONG OF ME.
I WON'T SLIT MY WRISTS TOO DEEP FOR I HAVE BROUGHT YOU INTO MY WORLD AND I CANNOT DISSAPOINT YOU NOW.
SO BABY I PROMISE TO WIPE UP THE BLOOD AS LONG AS YOU CAN STILL LOVE ME.
(AG)

I dont know how to escape this numb feeling,
Will I be able to break free from this ?
Will time heal all of it?
Or will another love replace this broken heart of mine?
Or will I just go on not needing any of these.
Time please dont let me down.
Hope please dont dissapoint me.
I am counting on you, mind.

Sitting in the white room
In front of a white Mac
Typing text in a chat room

Black text on a white screen

Reaching out
Don't know any women in real life

These conversations online
They dissapoint me
Or they end

Where have all the people gone?
Where are meaningful conversations
And good friendships?

In the white room
All I get is this computer
And chats

Chats with women
Searching and searching
For attractive and intelligent
For dominant and **** women

They fulfill a great need
Giving my **** a hard stroke
Ahhhhh

This ******* white room!!!!!!!

Is so fulfilling

Once I had a therapist
She was kind and loving

She left me
That was not moral

Now I'm in this white room
Typing on my computer

I feel close to this computer

All the hours I spend on this computer

****, ****, ****, **** me

This life can be

Full of misery

People dissapoint, they scrub your skin with words
I don't want to turn to stone, too many things hurt
I want to be like the soft curve of a pillow
But I must join the earth, to be as standing and un-upset as rock
Rock does not hurt, it doesn't injure, but I do.
I feel the constant chilling burn of depression, and the prodding of a razor, and if that isn't enough then the occasional punch in the stomach from a few words now and then.

lovely little life
who am i kidding
all i want is for someone to ****** me
so i dont have to dissapoint my family with a left behind suicide note

Thinking she might say the L word
Not wanting to say it myself

Thinking there was a small chance that she might say
That she loved me as a friend

It didn't happen
I'm not surprised

I'm thankful
And content with how she shared
How she thanked me for being honest

But I've learned its not good
To grow too attached to people
Just love Jesus
He is consistent

And His love is the greatest of all

At least I have my podcasts
People will dissapoint
Podcasts don't

Neither does earth mother

Demensed, reminenced to the incidence
Stuck on my chest
With the rest of the depressed
Cartridge packed with gun powder speaks
Louder than the words of this script
Candle dripped on the side, hardened from
The kind weakness of the departed
When their love runs out
No doubt the sprout denies its bloom
Consumed to doom

When there's good evil grows
When good fears, evil surrounds
The lack of oxygen prevents the flame,
Compressed with shame,
Maybe we should try another strain
Too much good
Not enough evil
How about stop good and bad
Chop off the fingers that point
For many that would dissapoint
Gossiping little brats
With bats instead if hearts
Dusted and rusted infected demented
Dissected fraklinected

Evilly mended stop pretendin,
And turning attempting the discerning
Blinded minded no denyin the lack of kinded
Destroys the shinin.

How amazing
The trust you have for me
Even after I dissapoint

How incredible
The love you have for me
Especially in my angriest moments

How lovely
The way you hold on to me
When my attention is miles away from you

The way you get under my skin
The way your actions graze my nerves
With every little thing you do

The way you touch my heart
The way I beam with pride
With every small progress you make

The way I struggle
The way I gather patience
With each button you push

How fulfilling it is
To achieve that progress
In the smallest measure
In the largest proportion

It's not just love
But unconditional love
It's not just commitment
But undying commitment

Do you believe in love, the chemical reaction between two of a kind
Or a pair of oddities, multiple entities
Having mutual feelings towards eachother without a condition
Can you say with certainty that there's no benefit to reason your attachment
Maybe it's about social acceptance or taking a rebellious stance
Even if it's real at the moment, how long til we grow tired, wanting to explore something new and fresh
Maybe you don't dwell on it but given a chance, would you turn down someone you've dreamed of, someone who could raise your well-being
If you knew it would never come out, would you be haunted by guilt or dissapoint yourself
Are we really such good people who will knowingly never make mistakes but what is it that makes it wrong
Would it be admitting that your love isn't real but what's love to begin with, can you really define it universally like rules that have no margin for an error.
How can i believe in something i have never seen, only theories of others who've had more experience
How do i know it's not just a big conspiracy told by paid witnesses to spread fake emotions for companies to benefit during valentines or any given time we purchase something in the name of "love."