wulfhug27

Jun 2014

imaginationcollaborator

Ideas

You don't like me.
You like the idea of me.
You like the idea
That someone who is
Suicidally depressed
Can make you
Extraordinarily happy.

You like the idea
That my deep
Cynicism and scepticism
Can fuel your
Overjoyed optimism.

You like the idea
That I'm the
Wonderful, beautiful
Intelligent, nerdy girl
You thought I was.

I am nothing.
I am empty.
I am not an idea.

Ideas are dangerous
Exciting, giggly.
They fill the idealist
With roaring delight.
Such a fantasy
Couldn't be real but in
The mind of a
Surrealist, Idealist
Socialist, Capitalist
Fascist.

I am not an idea.
Ideas are fun.
I am not an idea.
Ideas get things done.
I am not an idea.
Ideas are good.
Ideas aren't real.

I am real.
I wish I was only
Your idea of me.
I wish I wasn't real.

Written 14th May.

wulfhug27 Jun 2014

Pain like Water

Pages and pages and pages of
hurt
splatter all over me.
Flitting like harmless leaves in the wild,
then,
splatting like buckets of wet.
Fingers and fingers
nails and a thumb
crinkle and crumble self's shoulders.
And little prepared
are the splinters that's won
from the sharp transformation of water.

OH give it an end.
Give it an end.
give it an end so we can burn it.

#depression #pain #hurt #exhausted #change #struggles #transformation

wulfhug27 Jun 2014

Lately, Lately

Lately
My words have been simple.
Too simple.
Where's the complexity of my heart
Where are the loud crashing dirges of my soul
Where did they go?
Or where did they go?
What is this dribble...
why does everything rhyme
and why does each poem
Lately
carry the same tide.
Woe is me
just 17 but
woe I be.

Humm..

wulfhug27 Jun 2014

7pm

Oh look. Would you look?
It is 7 again.
It's a few minutes after
7pm
Yes. The lights in your city begin to brighten
And you lay on your bed, once more.
And again.
Just like yesterday, and the other day
and that... other day
Wait.
Where is life? In this bed?
When your walking legs are folded instead
When your flexible spine is healthy and prime
you've been sighing and lying all day?
What a shame.
Where is the day?
And what is your name?
Why do you hurt your self in this way
By the end of the day
You've done nothing.
Like always.
By the end of the day.
You are nothing.

Wow. Much trigger warning. I'm alright though folks, just ramblings of the mind.... I love poetry. It speaks of my state. I just glanced over at the time.
And. Depression hurts.

#depression

wulfhug27 Jun 2014

Drift

Why is it that my deepest loves go to waste.
You remain, burning like always
And greater.
Yet, the others are getting out of my hand.
The others proving me right.
That no-one can love a broken soul for too long
If they see the brokenness to much in the light.
If the doll becomes cruel for a moment of truth
And the friendship bare witness
With strife,
they will drift away from your life
By instinct the safety will howl them away
The deepest and greatest of friendships decay
And the lost remain as lost and the lost they remain.
It is sad.
And it is tragic.
And it is normal
And common
And deal-able
It is acceptable
And readable
And laughable-- years down the line.
Sure.
But it doesn't mean you can smile.