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wulfhug27 Jun 2014
Tell me, tell me who you are.
My lord.
Let me taste the stars
and soar Betwixt them with you.
Tell my goats to bore their tooth's of gold
and chew right through
And spit
And tell my men to turn to lynx
Filled with pride and warmth and spirit
Tell my soldiers very more
to give me up their lines of heart
And tell the dragon
in my soul
to not
tear me
apart.
From Last nights rambling.
wulfhug27 Jun 2014
Forever and a day
Does your mind most cruelly play
With the stringlettes of your soul
And the tangents of your bones
Begin
To Bend the wrong way.
Ah, but you scarce was told
Such a thing would happen.
Poor boy.
Twisted like a lump of clay
Patched up like a teddy stuffed of hay.
Rely yourself to the temper
And give upon the air your kisses
And place onto my palm your wishes
To be set Free.
More worthless drabble.
  Jun 2014 wulfhug27
Joshua Haines
When the thunder collapses like my grandfather's love,
there's no one that can hate me more than I do now.
As the lights begins to stain and drain my eyes,
there's no one that can hate me more than I do now.
Skeletons fell with the sea shells in the air.
I hope I'm falling asleep.
To no longer be here
is to be fair to everyone.

Art gallery in my head,
where the paintings hang above
polaroids and used condoms.
Where it's okay that I'm there:
the picture of a *******.
Where it's okay to love me.
Where it's okay to be me.
Where it's okay to know me.
Where it's okay to be me.
Where it's okay to get close to me.
Where it's okay to be me.
Where it's okay to believe in me.
Where it's okay to be me.
Where it's okay to be me.

In 2003 I was molested.
I want it to be okay to be me.
I detached myself from lullabies
and sorry eyes, only to realize:
I could have been dead in March,
right before the summer glows
and everyone would know
It wasn't okay to be me.

Why did you have to do it
My flesh tastes tainted,
and my eyes are painted
with the disgust of distrust
and the disgust of your lust
that corroded my body
and ate my blood
Am I any good
I want to be good.
I want to be pure.
I want to be more
than what I am.
****
There's acid in my veins
There's ******* acid in my veins
My body ******* shakes
Even when in love, I shake
When I'm safe, I shake
Am I ever safe

God isn't real, and neither am I
I am about as real as the dream I can't even buy
My talent is irrelevant, my past dictates my decisions
My love is the only redeeming quality,
and even that lacks precision.
I want to be perfect. I'm sorry that I apologize for anxiety;
it's not so much that I'm asking for forgiveness,
I just want to hear that there's no need to be sorry,
because it's okay to be me.

Oh. Hey, my eyes are watering; isn't this cool?
We're all having fun. Yippee.

The sun bursts rays, and there are twenty-three different ways
to stay alive inside when I'd rather hide from the sun's naivety
Searching for warmth on the walls with blistered palms,
as I lay in bed, naked. Removed of clothes and hope.
Blood in my mouth, new starters with broken shoelaces on the floor
Dreaming of different places. I said: dreaming of different places.
Cryptic words. In other worlds. In fire, I learned to drown.

A-B-C-D-E-F-G
Reentering the room, drunk.
H-I-J-K-L-M-N-O-P
Hide behind the bloodied bunk.
Q-R-S-
T-U-V-
W-X-
Y and Z
Now I've learned my lack of harmony,
next time won't you spare me, please.

Roses fall from the ceiling. There's no way I'm feeling.
Detach yourself from this room, this nation, this planet.
"You're too fragile to talk to, Josh." Thank you.
Don't allow yourself to ever be hurt again.
Regain your focus after I count down from ten.

Ten.
Reasons to stay alive.
Nine.
I want to live, I don't want to survive.
Eight.
There's nothing about me that anyone should hate.
Seven.
There's no god, but right now, I can make my own heaven.
Six.
I detached myself from lullabies and sorry eyes only to realize I love you.
Five.
"You're still there, right?" Dial tone silence, followed by fist to wall violence.
Four.
And to know you, is to know everything.
Three.
Adaptation without reclamation I find you in my translation
as hurt yet elation.
Two.
I want to make love in love. I want to die and donate a part of myself;
my backbone, lack thereof.
One.
When I fall asleep my eyes meet yours.

Intermission:

Do you like hurt? Do you like pain? Is a happy poem not your game?
Well, read a poem by Josh Haines and never look at him the same again.
And don't look at yourself the same, because it's okay to be you!
For the price of absolutely nothing, you can look at his words!
Wait, and that's not all! Validate the 'beauty' of his words by
touching that heart and making it red!
Make it as red as the bloodied bunk that stained his back and heels!
Only for the price of absolutely ******* nothing!
Hurry, though! You only have until the end of ******* forever, so act fast!
The number is
1-800-I'M AVOIDING A LAWSUIT LIKE I DO THE PEOPLE IN MY LIFE

2nd.

Hey, do you like your parents?
Yes!
Trick question. Do you looove your parents?
Yes!!
Do you like seeing your grandmother in a wheelchair?
Yes!
Do you like being hurt by the people that you care about the most?
Yes!!
Then grab some popcorn and cola!

End of Intermission.


Trying like you're crying at the end of the film that documents your life
To divide a knife into your skin like it's a sin to feel this way
I just couldn't take it, bones in the corner of the room.
Inside a skeleton's eyes, flowers bloom.
Chicka-yay-no way. You swear? You say:
Ti-ta-time is on my side, but that's not how it feels inside.
An internal measure of the pressure of the world
and it's bound to run out like the sand in my hands
at the precious beach that would **** me if I stepped
into the blue, for me and you.

Let me turn back time to when I first met you.
Don't be afraid.

I remember everything. To never forget, is to realize every lie,
smile at every face, and to remember every goodbye.

I hurt my hands, I need to talk to you on the phone.

My insomnia lives off the thought, that I hurt you.
The room is blurry, and I'm sorry for being cold.
I am warm. I have the sun inside.
I guess I'm just afraid of burning you with it.

The drums pound into rhyme,
Diamond casualties
Rewind, wound, rewound
To scratch the surface
until there's nothing but sound.
wulfhug27 Jun 2014
Hush stupid child
Be a silent as you can be
Don't let them see you
don't let them catch wind your
Worthless cries.
Keep sobbing.
Do not deny that you are yearning,
you are hurting.
Everyday.
Keep crying child.
It will never get better again.
We must leave you... why?
Because we've seen you.
And we do not like it,
What we saw.
Come now.
Keep weeping.
It won't make us come.
It wouldn't give you love like we could,
did, would.
No, child you've lost yourself.
And so we have lost you too
Dead to us.
Yes, but we pretend.
While you pour tears onto your upper lip
We pat and coo
and we pretend
Oh friendship? Silly.
The deepest of them
yet fall into pity and put
you on the rack.
Aye beseech us.
And keep crying.
Just keep on.
wulfhug27 Jun 2014
I've told everyone everything.
And they have nothing for me.
I don't wish,
I had said this,
or wish
I said that.
I've said it all.
I look over my mind
and all over my thoughts
and I wonder
what did I miss....
there has to be something....
where is the answer, what I get back is nothing.
....Well
I get back some words
and some thoughts and some care
I get back some truths
and some angry or loving stares
I get back opinions and quotes
statements and hopes and advice
but what I get back is nothing.

Nothing.
Say it twice.
What I get back is an empty feelings inside
guilt for the hearts of the listening to decide
what to do
what to say
how to console my powerful
head that wont
derail
itself.

I've told you all everything inside me.
Now save me.
Save me.

Not an answer.
Where's the answer?
Depression Hurts.
wulfhug27 Feb 2014
I don't have much to write or say
but hm
today is my birthday
I have not much to do
but soon
it will just be
another day.
I'm 17 today. Hooray?
wulfhug27 Feb 2014
Is it weird how I remember one of your favorite artists was Frank Sinatra?
That Red you adored.
On your lips, on your nails, clip clopping heels on the floor.
That you were born on the 18th
In one of the J's of summer.
That you eyes were "fat" you called them
and Sad..
and beautiful..
I cannot look at them anymore
they are filled with everything
everything.
Is it weird that I remember
how full the face of you
how alluring, proactive, your smile
I remember even, how you hated your nose
It was too wide you said.
How your cheeks were too thick for your taste.
Its weird.
How in class, as we learn about Shakespeare, I still look forward
for that little second
to telling you, showing you what I've learned of what you like.
I miss how I got used to out short
random chit chats.
You'd inspire me to come to love an idol of yours
and not only for you she now lives inside
Marilyn Monroe.
Her beauty you desired, her beauty you longed for and admired
and I to
she only reminds me of you
just of you
I wonder how would that be to know?
How you were the Spain to my Romano
and my Romano to your Spain.
How you made me love Spain, Antonio- Carriedo.
That Tomato ******* head.
How you portrayed him, with your joy
all of you joy and with the underlying of your sadness
was his sadness
made him beautiful.
My heart cherishes your Spain, and cherishes you.
Its odd, how I remember your voice.
The exact tone, and that sometimes I hear it, or want to
and find myself remembering a time when
you spoke the words I love you
doubtful
always, careful, but openly.
I miss you. I do. I think of you every passing day.
Its as if you were dead, good forbid it, far ahead it will come but for now its all the same.
You are gone from my life.
I'm sorry,
so sorry....
but no more regrets. I miss you my friend.
You were one of the best.
For Jerrica.
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