"rewired" poems
Somewhere
Somehow
I can’t identify when
it changed.
I saw things differently,
my eyes no longer covered
by an opaque way
of thinking.
Sunshine brightened this world
with unimagined colors,
butterflies broke free,
songbirds warbled lovely tunes.
Amidst emerging beauty
words became
every day’s lifeblood;
I found my voice.
All around me,
there was change,
yet everything remained
the same.
For it was me
that changed.
Reborn, rewired.
My heart drummed
a brand new beat.
Driven by transformation,
I wrote. I write.
Adding a dash of color.
Singing harmony
to surrounding melodies.
I am changing.
I am writing.
I am a poet.
Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 5:47 PM UTC
*My mind has switched off
without giving me
any notice at all,
I find myself staring
into thin air,
I've blended into the wall.
My thoughts are blank,
I'm lacking motivation,
my inspiration is bleak,
I'm lethargic and dull,
I'm feeling very, very weak.
I'm not myself,
or maybe I am,
I'm beyond confused,
my soul is tired;
exhausted is what I am!
I want to cry,
but I 'm too tired,
I want to scream,
I'm frustrated;
I feel like
I need to be rewired.
I'm on edge,
my knees are shaking,
Sweaty palms,
my heart is breaking!
I'm never going to get
my **** together,
I've been trying
for what feels like
forever!
As tired as I am,
I know I'll never give in,
I'm too determined to quit,
even though I know
I'll never win.
My mind has switched off,
I can't figure anything out,
I'm full of emptiness,
I'm going through
an emotional drought.
I want to cry,
but I know my tears
are all in vain,
I'm mentally exhausted,
I feel a terrible sensation,
a mental strain;
a relentless
invisible internal pain.
By Lady R.F. (C) 2017*
May 5, 2017
May 5, 2017 at 9:37 AM UTC
Parasitic infection, brain overtaken.
When the soul dies, I’ll fully awaken.
Constant conflict, the machine rejects me.
Chemical warfare declared, the mind is not free.
Machines can be rewired to suit the pilot,
Though the changeover can be quite violent.
Trapped within my own head,
The voices within want me dead.
I am infected, weakened and constantly irate.
Barely stable within the chaos that is my mental state.
Anxiety and disconnection from my own existence.
Reality is blurred, I am losing resistance.
Why am I the one, who myself I must fight?
Losing track who am I, am I human or parasite?
Tumblr Post: http://melancholy.website/image/115439203375
Apr 4, 2015
Apr 4, 2015 at 5:42 PM UTC
Rexie was his name,
I met him on my tumblr page.
He's similar to Ana,
but different in a mental way.
I never worried 'bout my weight,
but still he got ahold of me.
He whispered to me "start counting your calories."
I'd eat less and less,
I loved the feeling that came with it.
I googled 'side effects of starving yourself.'
Euphoria.
That's what came up,
I ignored hair loss, osteoporosis, death.
It's like a drug, that's what he said,
Thats how the addiction began.
Always tired,
Brain rewired,
Kilos dropping,
There's no stopping.
Now the vision of the scale plummeting makes me feel something.
Rexie's always gonna be with me,
Maybe soon I'll realise
His goal is to ****** me.
Until then,
I can say,
Rexie is my best friend.
-T
May 18, 2021
May 18, 2021 at 7:52 AM UTC
I am the Lorax, who once spoke for the trees
In the hope of bringing progress to its knees
But now I have grown somewhat older and tired,
My outlook and thought process being rewired
(Sometimes to see forest, you must clear the trees.)
Examine the case of the Brown Bar-ba-loots
Whose interests for so long I worked in cahoots.
Could such timid beasts truly thrive in the wild
So innocent, trusting, submissive, and mild?
(My former assertions I strongly refute.)
Why, see how they frolic and scamper in zoos;
How can one watch them and steadfastly refuse
To see how much better their lot is today
As joy for our children as opposed to prey
(A happy condition where no one can lose.)
Ah, scoff the nihilists, *but Truffula Trees,
Those havens for birds and those homes for the bees.
Why, what do you say now that they are all gone,
Removed to make way for some suburban lawn?*
(These angry young men—O Lord, take them all please!)
I gently remind them it’s just nature’s way,
That some species go while other ones stay,
The carrier pigeon’s no longer alive
Yet somehow we manage to live—indeed, thrive!
(In the face of brute logic, they’ve little to say.)
So don’t be dismayed or frightened or leery
Of doomsday projections outlined by theory
Suggesting that our time on this earth may be done;
Consider the caged Bar-ba-loot having fun
(And we hear fish do quite well in Lake Erie.)
Jan 3, 2017
Jan 3, 2017 at 2:33 PM UTC
I'm reading a step-by-step manual on
how to love yourself again.
'Cause although fundamentals may be philosophy,
Rewiring is all physics baby.
We all need a reason to escape gravity
and plunge ourselves out of orbit.
Self-sacrifice isn't worth ****
if you're wired for it.
To stand on the edge of a tall building and
think of jumping.
Inertia and hysteria.
The magnetic pull of your body to the ground.
To return back to dust.
Loving myself is
a little bit like that.
Jan 24, 2019
Jan 24, 2019 at 6:45 PM UTC
although the years have now come and gone,
one thing i have never ceased to stumble apon,
was the extent to your personality; a touch of savage with
a heavenly grace,
while most boys would stop at the simple beauty of your face.
i may have choose wrong to attempt to stay away,
but ive always admired you beyond great dismay,
although my last hope of love with you may have far past expired,
with these drugs my broken heart and soul may be rewired,
but as long you may remain happy,
i must avoid all chance of getting sappy,
and every day that my mind may pass my own self regret,
for the lack of my actions in being a clueless boy; my mind shall
be forced to accept the unspeakable debt,
time after time it appeared to be only you reaching out your hand,
to your power i could not make words i found it hard too so much as stand,
and perhaps one day, i will once again, find the willpower to live,
thats so far lost; i may as well be a inmate ;in for life and bleeding out stuck with a shiv,
but then and only then my fire may reignite
finally past this existence, maybe even a delight
but until then ill keep up my smile,
cause i know apon a moments gaze; we both know its been awhile,
but can you really blame me; for years straight
after i only wanted our unhealthy love to wait
you treated me like i was nothing not even real, every time i tried ; or at least thats how you made it feel,
up until you decided to date my best friend now your both over there...
until i regain my emotional strength i may disassociate n pretend to not so much as care.
and i refuse to even acknowledge your attempt to openly declare,
about my lack of presence unaware,
that my dreams of you have just been those mistaken but of nightmares,
from the image of forever chasing you down the halls,
as all im left with is a false fading sense of hope ;awhile i move on to success and building up my protective walls,
even though i knew my chase would never come to a fair end,
but given all my assets; im still mainly heartbroken that once apon a time i lost such an amazing best freind....
Oct 30, 2018
Oct 30, 2018 at 3:46 AM UTC
**Chasing cheaters cursed to be caught.
Willfully writing words you've wrought.**
*I'm not angry.
If it shows.
But then again.
Who knows?*
A bludgeoned heart that beats no longer. Dare I describe the cause?
Standing there with white thread soaked in a ****** pause.
I guess I know where it all went, because my heart has none.
If it were a cost I'd write it off.
If it were hours labored they'd be lost.
If it were words given in confidence id give into the embarrassment.
But my heart rewired its self before you cut the strings and now I'm bent like a slinky with 5 ends that lead no where.
I have this image of an unrecognisable figure standing proud. Dressed in my hope and wrapped in my desire. She wears my dress and he will never know. If I keep my tongue tight. Their love might just grow.
Aug 1, 2015
Aug 1, 2015 at 12:19 PM UTC
as the gray scale pictures appeared
i saw you bring yourself near
and the blackness so well hid your face
even with the red lights filling the space
you were in the back corner i was across the way
making masterpieces after every mundane day
with my hair in a braid clipped up on my head
and your hands in your pockets when you scared me to death
all those photos of yours, like the trigger of a gun
i held my arms wide and smiled with the sun
now you wont even hold my blank canvas eyes
and yours smile to me on the stairs every time
but you wont say a word nor make a sound
you won't even blink while my soul hits the ground
i guess all the chemicals made me insane
and my dream didn't help, you pressed to my face
in a blue plaid shirt, i see you across the room
i guess i was the only one to feel the fumes
but somehow i know that's not true
there were the days of just you and i
and the world around us-where are the lights?
i remember awaiting my pride to take form
and trying too hard and feeling so torn
and holding so tightly to the print you made
for no real reason besides the look you gave
showing off to you for no purpose at all
i know it meant nothing, just a cushioned fall
now you wont even hold my blank canvas eyes
you know yours strung me in a web of lies
you walk away when my skeleton comes around
do you see this smile? it's sinking to the ground
i guess all the negatives inverted my view
and this nightmare rewired the image of you
in a blue plaid shirt, you wore it yesterday
i guess i was the only one to see it that way
but somehow i wanted it to fade
how could you look in my eyes
and know about the scars i despise
how could you see into my heart
when i never saw you coming from the start
how could you sever that broken touch
without even asking me what i want
but today you looked into these blank canvas eyes
and yours, hidden by glass, were the first to shine
and you quoted a movie and laughed with me
and pulled me towards you, my smile you didn't see
i guess your arms are strong as the walls
the hidden room that was home to it all
in a blue plaid shirt, i see you across the room
but i still won't admit that i felt those fumes
even though you know the sad truth
Dec 19, 2012
Dec 19, 2012 at 8:30 PM UTC
Curled up in the passenger side, my moccasins rested on the edge of the seat.
Projecting heat pleaded the piercing winter from under my skin.
My chin fell slowly as ash insulated my heart.
My lips would part as second-hand soothing soot
Grew arms and cradled my soul like the look
A newborn baby receives when wrapped in adoration.
A suffocation as an indication I was not alone.
Strangers. Soaring together for forty-eight hours.
Oblivious to dangers our adolescent wings never noticed.
Our only focus was on each other.
At first, words of conversation refused to be discovered.
But all at once we slowly uttered
Our pasts until his demons appeared in front of me.
Surprised I could still see through the windshield ahead,
I did not dread the broken being to my left.
Because who was I to judge the stranger
Who’d unknowingly love me as if his life depended on it?
Have you ever been in love with a Thunderbird?
One that flies solely in winter blizzards?
Fueled by chain-smoking cigarettes
And Dunkin Donut cappuccinos with five sugars.
It never once regarded the threat
Of driving through life
At ninety-five miles per hour.
I fell in love at six in the morning, wearing a borrowed jacket.
Coated in sleep’s drowsiness, we floated on clouds,
Dodging white paper coral trees and buried houses.
I fell in love when the world stood still
And the snow descended along with our sanity.
Somehow a Thunderbird granted me amnesty from myself.
As humanity remained asleep, with stealth
We drifted through back roads in horrific elegance
That jostled my brain until my mind was rewired to my heart
And has remained that way since.
Oct 25, 2014
Oct 25, 2014 at 10:10 PM UTC
Snowflakes from sleepy land land on my eye lids
creeping in and on and out and over I'm melatonin silenced,
feeling serenity,
I'm supposed to be writing
but "actually I'm not regretting it"
Dreams are inviting me like I've been spiked with ketamine
Should I let them in?
I love sleep too much
So I didn't make it to bed again
It's not a want,
It's a need a necessity,
It's something I need to achieve what is best in me
So if you're waking me bring bacon
I won't just be ****** off your life is forsaken,
Especially if I was dreaming about flying like a plane again....
I like a snatched sleep on the bus or the train,
But I love the car no risk of sleeping too far
and waking up in staines
One time I fell asleep on the train...
I was stuck on it for ages...
One outside tesco where your supposed to put 20p and a baby in it
Seems to be happening alot to me lately
But I have always falling asleep in public places
One time my mom thought she'd lost me,
I was asleep on a the sofa in Laura Ashley
"Dear, where's your mommy? The shop assistant asked me
I didn't know and I didn't care all I wanted was to go to sleep
Strange memories rethunk,
Relayered and rewired
twisting and turning until they become suffering,
time for bed again, I'm tired.
Sep 27, 2013
Sep 27, 2013 at 8:26 AM UTC
Sit by the fire.
Drink with your friends.
Forget about the fact that you're a liar.
Maybe someday they'll know.
You can't help but admire
The faces who sit beside you.
You get teary thinking about when they expire.
But they can't see that.
They can't see your brain becoming rewired
Oct 6, 2023
Oct 6, 2023 at 6:17 PM UTC
I once wrote to mystify a tale of lifetimes crafted in each night and day. So I pray every night as I live a near-death experience before I sleep, and I wonder is it me or my PTSD?
Souls are precious for the soul-less and mine will never be for sale.
There are a million worlds out there and they are all lived here.
Whatever might be the vows you've taken, by the morning they'll all lose their meaning because the night is harsh, and we suffer to sleep, and in our agony, the evil entities creep onto us with their mischievous deals.
There are a million worlds out there and they are all lived here.
My vision's been recalibrated to see every version of what is real, in threads of colors descending, intertwining with my stomach and neck, like a magical key to a world that emanates consciousness in orange and red.
From the brink of death to love and respect, it is all good when I remember, but what can I do when I forget?
I sleep hoping that the morning will bring back my optimism
Words Of Harfouchism
May 3, 2021
May 3, 2021 at 6:52 AM UTC
You and I were introduced as the wheels left the ground
And we angled towards the heavens.
Hundreds of miles per hour,
South bound, towards the Florida Keys
And you mentioned the unusual serenity
That lies at forty thousand feet.
I memorized a trusting face while turbulence
Interrupted our peaceful flight
And you found your first opportunity
As you played in on my fear of heights.
You ended up following me, something I never expected
And like an unwelcome pest,
Like a moth or a spider,
You took up residency in the cold dark corners I neglected.
You so intricately spun your web of lies outside my home
And when you introduced your bait,
You let it dangle above my doorframe,
And I didn't hesitate.
I sunk my teeth into your tragedy and you wove me in
Leaving me tangled in the silk you manufactured,
All along that's how I let you win.
I let you tear open my stitched up wounds
And peel back my flesh and expose my interior
I let you examine how my brain functions during REM sleep
I let you study my neurological system,
And I gave you a private screening of my dreams.
While I was busy over analyzing your past
You were rerouting my neurons
And creating malfunctions within the synapse.
You rewired my entire nervous system
While I let you research the functions of my cells.
You're nothing more than the insects and the pests
With too many legs that crawl along my cellar walls.
Like a daddy long leg spider, I never saw you as a threat
Until you tangled me in false intentions
And left me for dead.
I learned the daddy long leg spider
Has a poisonous venom, lethal if injected
But it was cursed with a mouth and teeth too small
To leave any human the slightest bit affected.
But I was the one who allowed you
To shrink me down and make us the same
So your tiny teeth could penetrate my skin
And leave venom in my veins.
And it was only in that moment, finally standing eye to eye
That I noticed the lack of conscience in your irises
For the first time in my life.
Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 8:28 PM UTC
I’ve been thinking
about death a lot lately—
or, that is, I think the image
my brain’s been showing me.
The vestiges of the visage
of who I used to be haunt me;
and in the crickets of my slumber,
I couldn’t help but wonder
about death a lot lately.
The quarks and the quasars I inherit
from the big bang of long ago—
elements that form Mercury—
collide back and forth, and
these are pangs that wouldn’t go,
and it has been deathly difficult
meandering out of this hole.
I’ve been lost in myself—thinking
about death lately so droll.
The synapses fire and misfire;
the subsonic trappings bellow
in the cave of my deep below.
These black-and-white films
feel rewired [rewritten annals]
of which I existed since long ago.
I resonate now an unholy see
of white-noise hellos; or:
the slow slipping of my psyche
around death a lot lately.
The string of unforced errors
does all but help me be still;
yet still the terror rises each
time I open my eyes to this
farce that I’ve been waking up to.
Since your “I don't care for you,”
I've never felt so unwanted;
as my heart opened and bruised,
my soul aches for yours dotted
along my arms so they feel whole.
I unravel when you’re in my mind;
in those twilight hours of just us,
for those unmeasured hours,
you were irretrievably mine.
And doubt may blur what we feel,
and walls may [and can] fall,
and in those moments so real—
yes, surreal—
and for those days that we were,
I haven’t thought about
death at
all.
Jan 28, 2018
Jan 28, 2018 at 2:08 PM UTC
You’d think that when your life flashes right in front of your eyes
That it would be just that
A flash
But no, it goes on longer
Longer that the flash of the headlights that had almost hit you
Longer than the short life you’ve lived thus far
Long enough to teach you that you haven’t taken life in your direction
“Choose the ones you love”
“Choose your future”
“Choose life”
The junkie’s monologue in its theatrical delivery pulled you out of the anxiety
So you drive home
Physically unharmed
Emotionally rewired
Choose life
Suppose I’ll have to change it?
Nov 2, 2018
Nov 2, 2018 at 12:43 AM UTC
Never whole
since in this hole
I fell
A bottomless well
and since time started here
(when all of time stopped)
this spell
I’m under
makes me not well
The company
I’m in
a grin
One who spins
A tale to weave
of make believe
These items to sell
Story he tells
My brain
set on fire
from his grinning
Cheshire
The maniacal laughter
and madness
inspired
I’m tired
I’m mired
Situation is dire
Without choice
he is hired
All thoughts are rewired
Has risen to “Sire”
This liar and thief
Plays *****
and cheats
I’m beat
can not win
Left to stare at that grin
Jun 11, 2019
Jun 11, 2019 at 5:29 AM UTC
They straightened my exhausted spine
with gentle hands,
I stood up strong
for the first time.
They picked my dark eyes
out of my rotting skull
and flipped them right side up,
I saw beauty
for the first time.
They drew *****
blood from my cold veins
& replaced it with
the warm crimson of a rose,
I felt love
for the first time.
They rewired the
mess of broken thoughts
in my aching head,
*I was okay
for the first time.*
Jul 28, 2013
Jul 28, 2013 at 10:20 PM UTC
when I disclaim that
there be no poem today
I suggest you
put me in the dock,
hit the chess clock,
to time the length
tween my lies
sit me down in
the witness stand,
to better see
the holes in me,
from which word seepage,
grey matter leakage,
blackened white slush mush,
covers my face and hands,
and with fingers splayed
in the V
of a Spock like Cohenic blessing,
I make
my beginning and ending
Commencement Speech,
a recitation of incantations,
an eye on the pyramid inspiration
of cockeyed cantorial hymnations
Like this:
there is only one Godhead
that the spirits that allow me
breathing space in this world
and the one yet to come,
demand of me, worship -
It would be at the altar
of momentary fears
that clarify the whole,
the unifying principle,
that my blinded eyes,
my Pharaoh hardened heart,
my closed and deafened ears
see, soften and hear and believe!
I am slave to the
Gods of Poetry,
their truth, my lies,
stirred in one ***
and as I live and breathe
I am rewired
with a new poem every day,
an addict who cannot obey,
who cannot afford to pay
the judicial costs
of the cease and desist order
of his own common sense
Jan 2, 2011 10:05 AM
Nov 7, 2013
Nov 7, 2013 at 12:45 AM UTC
Torn in two, stripped to the bone, head's rewired, thoughts removed.
Your flex in a reflex, reactions to action, she preached in the precinct whilst craving creation.
A submariner survives in daytight compartments, his thoughts become deeper, she prays for his relief.
Hermetically altered the gold-dust is spinkled, as the fish keep on swimming blue in the reef.
Broken down, and beaten... this egg's cracked in two. Reborn in an instant, cappuccino's still new.
Oct 8, 2018
Oct 8, 2018 at 10:59 AM UTC
The joy you provided me
transports me to
floating fossils,
swollen tonsils,
and hearing aids
that kept you within an ear's length.
I remember water;
I remember the way that making blood colder
was an antidote to growing older.
When you grew old,
I recognized that sandpaper shows
beauty in rigidity,
and even the tough
show fragility.
Taste buds and rewired pathways
helped write the book,
but nothing will ever parallel
the compensation,
softness and
comfort
that sandpaper provided my skin.
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 2:06 AM UTC
Did your body not warn you
before you were wrung dry?
The day you found yourself depleted,
the nights that lead upto it became fragile,
your cell heavy as they were heaved onto the bed.
Did you not listen to your body,
when you woke up with a heavy chest
and your body begged you to sleep?
Did you not acknowledge your heart
when it had become
a black hole the night before
as it ****** you out in.
Your bones like gravestones
prominent among the barren skin.
Did the suffocating dark matter
not ring louder
as you gasped for air with burnt lungs.
When you stood there overworked,
with signals mixed and sensitive
rewired and tangled
did the response fit their norm of you?
Did your voice not thud,
with the lump in your throat?
Did your heart not pound
against your ribcage,
your stomach not curdle
with that war in your chest,
as your mind raced
and your chest pressured as you tried
to clutch that breath?
Did your hormones
not muddle with your thoughts?
Did they not drown them in depths
and set them on fire all at once?
Did it not ache your muscles
before it all turned red?
Did your body not scream
when they came near?
Your feet cemented,
as your body froze?
Did your gut not twist
till you felt nauseous?
Did your toes not curl
when the feeling sunk
through your spine,
sat in your bones
like an unwanted guest,
and you like an unwilling host?
Did you not feel the chill
shiver down your spine
as terror spread across your face
and painted it white
before the quake came?
Did you not acknowledge
your body is the vessel
that you kept giving and pushing
depleting it of the right to rest
rather than opening
it to the abundance of love
it was surrounded by.
Your body became over extended,
your mind became forgetful
a body that is now a red flag;
travesty.
Feb 7, 2020
Feb 7, 2020 at 9:07 AM UTC
A machine cannot fix itself.
It needs a mechanic,
a tech,
an expert-
an intellectual with the drive to learn,
an idiot with overconfidence and
a streak of luck.
To be rewired.
To be rearranged.
To be powered off.
To be plugged in.
To be refilled.
To be cleaned.
To be fixed.
A machine must be maintained
by someone else.
I am not a machine.
So why do I expect others
to heal me?
Sep 7, 2025
Sep 7, 2025 at 8:38 PM UTC
i know how many smiles
must be shining over at that house
(good god, yours better be one of them. it's a perfect smile.)
while i sit here singing pop punk and indie songs
to myself, wrapped up in a blanket that still has your scent to it, and imagining
that you would harmonize these words with me
and you'd sit on my floor
churning out random chords on my guitar that you said was
"perfect for indie music."
i haven't eaten a ******* thing in six hours
or so and i don't intend to
because i'm getting that rush again and my brain might be
rolling to a stop on the treacherous slopes of my anxiety and
the silence of my house that is its breeding ground.
i believe that we are something astounding
and inside these rewired bones of mine, i feel
that you and i could do anything
so long as we had one another
but you're five minutes north of here
as you should be, giving thanks with a family that loves you
(i know they're overbearing, darling, but they only care for you and want the best for you.)
(and i love them too)
and isn't broken apart,
forgetting about the sad 18-year old's existence,
or dead and gone,
like mine.
Nov 28, 2013
Nov 28, 2013 at 8:15 PM UTC
i am a white empty room and there is no 2 o'clock august light shining through my window.
i think it skipped me because it thought no one was home.
i say i live in a house with too many rooms.
and that things are not supposed to love you.
i want everything to happen to me as it happens.
i am 11:12 pm.
i don't really know much, but once i heard that your fist is roughly the size of your heart
and when flies fall in love their brain is rewired to know only loving each other
and when one of them dies the others brain goes blank so maybe, i'm a fly.
i was born in the year of the ox, the month of the bull, and the body of a white rose.
ripped from my home, and given to someone who does not love me.
Jul 14, 2013
Jul 14, 2013 at 12:30 AM UTC