Another Struggle Documented

It would seem that I’ve executed another flawless social faux pas

By denying myself the right to a sudden change of scenery.

By becoming an accessory to my own murder.

By accompanying my ghosts as they carry me away.

I am a slave to my indifference.

A casualty of an endless subliminal war to which I’ve lost everything.

I have been paralyzed by my arbitrary fear of failure…

My insatiable need for intellectual superiority has left me without life or limb.

Singing a beautiful song of perpetual sorrow.

I have produce many lines…many words that accentuate my ill-fated story.

These words were never justified by a single shred of irrefutable evidence against my own treason.

I suppose my outcry may seem like a ploy for fame…

But instead I have fallen into the impermeable darkness of infamy.

Is everything irrelevant?

Maybe.

But what criteria do I have to judge coherency?

When it seems that I have lost the last bit of sanity I had managed to retain throughout my youth.

I have never claimed to be innocent,

That would be dishonesty and nothing more.

However, I do feel that my plea for subtle transition

Is not one of pretentiousness, but purely of a sincere desire for something better.

Something beautiful.

Something more than simply existing, searching for a place in which to die.

Rain, Rain…

This is all you get…

Brief glimpses into the chaotic rhythm of my thoughts.

I’ll give you that.

Let you have it free of charge.

Because it’s easy for me.

It’s easy to write…

To type these words.

To display these emotions in a control group fashion.

Just like it’s easy for you to be lonely.

To be tired.

It’s easy because it’s comforting.

Because you love it.

And I’m still talking.

Little glimpses.

That’s all you get.

They’re free because no one wants them.

Little.

(Do you see the rain?

It’s nailing down the old coffin, board by board.

When will they realize it’s empty?)

Oh death…take these symptoms…

Take these glimpses.

They’re free because they’re…

They’re free because no one

Because no one cares.

(Do you see the rain?

We hummed along with it when we built sadness

We built sadness so the Valium junkies would have an excuse.

Do you see that coffin?

Don’t they know it’s full of shit?)

I Suppose I’ve Fallen Ill

I soak in the light of day…

Hold it like a sponge until the light evaporates.

Then like a faulty atmosphere

The light

The warmth

They flee from my porous interior like murderous fiends

Departing the victim of their latest slaughter.

And I bid farewell with no tears,  no second thoughts.

Because this is how life works.

The descent is the worst.

The descent into the pitch-black canyon that I call a heart.

It pumps not blood, but dust throughout my body.

Every vein.

Every organ.

As I lie

Cold and emotionless

In my deathbed,

I dare to ponder the things of my past.

The memories.

The feelings long since forgotten.

I feel as if every one of them is a shovelful of dirt upon my casket.

My tomb.

Lay me to rest.

Without worry

Without the constant bondage of this impermeable sadness.

This endless sickness will be the death of me.

And if I have my wish

It will take me sooner rather than later.

A Subtle Indignity

I watch you weep from across the room.
Counting the tears as they tumble, one by one, down your cheek.
Good tear, bad tear.
Tears are simply catalysts for memories.
Bad memories bring you to tears
And good memories keep them flowing.
Good tear, bad tear.
They’re all gathering upon the fabric below, as if congregating for some communal offering.
And I can’t help but wonder about their intentions…

We martyrs, we struggle through life.
Sluggishly executing that which is thought to be irrelevant.
Formulating theories and equations…attempts to justify our existence
Through letters and numbers lacking color.
Lacking merit.
Innate behaviors, to us, seem alien.
Futile attempts to survive seem to extort themselves of depth.
But we do not cry.
No good tears or bad tears.
No offerings from the fabric of our shirts.
Maybe we’re wrong.

Our cheeks do not burn with theatrical self-involvement.
Our eyes never redden with the cold ignominy of defeat.
And if we are wrong,
I suppose we’ll keep running. Every step separating us from normalcy.

And if you’re wrong…
I suppose you’ll keep crying.
As if it can mold reality into something more bearable.
A smaller pill; sugar with a spoonful of medicine.

 

Too Late

Is this how its supposed to be?

Folding myself in half, for Nothing ?

Knowing your not going to be content?

Seems as if I give but dont receive.

You dont care though, do you?

Thinking of something, someway, to make things better.

Telling myself im not giving up

I wish I was lieing.

I wish it was that easy.

I look over it, and forgive on a regular basis.

You dont care though, do you?

 

 

Tell Me Why?

They tell me she’s going to die…

I tell them no.

They turn away and leave me to my mother and the beeping sound that drowns out my tears.

They tell me she’s not going to make it…

I tell them their wrong.

They let me hold her cold hand for five more minutes.

(She smiles at me with her misty blue eyes,she’s smiling!)

They tell me I need to let her go…

I scream at them and tell them to leave me be…

But they don’t.

They drag me away from her…

How could they let this happen?

I start to cry,

I can’t take this!

She was all I had…

Why can’t they see that?

I want to trade her places…

I want to be the one gasping for my last breath.

Daddy hides his face in his hands,

He doesn’t want me to see him crying.

He just lost his mammaw and I am making this about me…

But I miss her already.

All I can do is sit back and fall apart.

Days I’ve been here.

I’ve been seat out due to injury before but I promised I’d come back stronger, faster then ever and I’m making it come soon. I’m back now and I’m going to be unbeatable and its going to be here to stay for the next two years so you better get use to me been in your face all plays everyday so get use to it.

Remember ?

Eight-Hundred and eighty seven. Thats how many days i have to choose from. How could I just pick one that’s my most memorable?

The day I ran away? The day I left school and went to the park? The day my brother and I watched moves all day? The day I won my dance award? The Day I Learned how to play piano?

Well I don’t remember these days, I remember these moments. I remember getting my things and leaving going under the tree, and it started raining getting all my things wet. I don’t remember the day I left school and went to the park, I remember going with Auston and taking pictures and playing. I don’t remember the day my brother and I watched movies all day, I remember all we watch were funny movies and we couldn’t stop laughing. I Don’t remember the day i won my dancing award, I remember dancing till my legs were in so much pain and I had to ice them. I don’t remember the day i learned how to play piano, I remember me playing my first song and being so happy.

How to be a great friend.

Learn the feeling of the relationship,

become close with each other.

Keep an eye on each other,

make it a great friendship

Feel the flow of how close you are,

from friends to best friends, from best friends to friends forever.

Hear each other out to feel better,

tone out everyone and just listen to just them

Play along with all the humor,fun,or play,

talk more then any other of your friends

Climb the biggest places with each other,

believe in one another to keep yourselves happy.

In March, be with them for the rest of your life,

make it all count don’t give up on them.

My Most Memeorbale Moments

The day I learned to ride my bike without training wheels,

The day I lost my first tooth and got so excited that I dropped it and lost it,

The first time I drove a fourwheeler and wrecked it with my best friend on the back,

These are my most memorable moments.

The night I ran away fom home, away from my family, and cried for what seemed like forever,

The day I was forced to move to Virginia with a mother I did not know,

The time I got lost in Wal-Mart and my grandmother had to search for me for hours on end,

These are my most memorabke moments.

The morning I was swinging from a rope on a tree and the rope broke and I rolled over barbwire,

The day I got expelled from Logan Middle for drugs in school,

The day I turned 16 and went out to eat with my mom, my best dinner yet,

Theses are my most memorable moments

…And there are many more to come.

Free Choice..

I decided to write about a few of my favorite things. First things first…airplanes.  I have been interested in airplanes and how they work for as long as I can remember. It’s amazing how that much metal can fly through the sky with ease. I always said that they reminded me of metal paper airplanes. I started collecting and making model airplanes a few years ago. I have many airplanes but my favorite would have to be my Continental Airlines model. Another favorite thing is trampolines. I love trampolines. I got my first trampoline when I was 4 or 5 years old. I had it for a long time but had to take it down because it was getting pretty old. I had three more trampolines over the next couple of years. I miss my first trampoline, though. I learned everything on it. Well, a few simple tricks. It was my bestfriend. I cut a few pieces off of it and still have them. Finally, my most favorite thing in the whole world is the Star Wars series. Star Wars is the coolest thing I have ever seen. The whole battle scenes with the ships and numerous creatures..not to forget the lightsabers. Seeing all of that together makes me happy. My favorite character is Anakin Skywalker. Especially in episode 3 Revenge of the Sith. He turns to the darkside to protect Padme, but he ends up killing her in his rage. Ironic isn’t it?  I don’t really like Darth Vader, but he does have an awesome intro theme. I have Anakin’s lightsaber. Well, the master replica drom episode 3. I also have Luke Skywalker’s from episode 6. I really want Obi-Wan Kenobi’s. I also want Mace Windu because his is an awesome purple. I want everyones saber let’s just put it that way.

Has he forgotten?

I close my eyes only to be reminded of him.

I open my eyes only to remember he’s gone.

I breathe in,

only I’m choking on the memories.

What has happened?

What have I done to deserve so much pain?

I’m lost, and aware of it.

 

Without you,

I have no home.

 

So I run away,

My life is demolishing before my eyes.

 

Without you,

I have no reason to live.

 

So what am I supposed to do?

 

I hang my head in sorrow,

pitiful was swelling up inside my heart.

 

I hold my head up pretending to be something that I am not.

 

Strong,

I am weak,

always have been around you.

So what am I supposed to do?

I close my eyes and jump,

hitting rock bottom.

Daddy’s Hands

There’s oil stains that slide in the cracks of Daddy’s hands

black smudges that no matter how many times he washes them-it will not come off.

The cracks are dry causing him to rub them together in pain-but he dares to complain.

But ther”s also something different

Something soft in those stained-cracked hands.

The way they feel like satin on a warm day against your cold wet cheek.

So light and smooth.

There’s something warm about them…

While taking mom’s fragile hands in his.

The way he holds onto her,

the way he’s so careful with her as if she might break.

Daddy’s hands go deep, if you take a second to study them you would understand…

There’s a strong,loving man…

Behind Daddy’s hands.

To a hunter leaving the farm

When I taught you to shoot a bow you always missed the target. Until you learned how to shoot. Then you killed your first deer at a very long range. Now you haave kids of your own, so you have to teach them to shoot . So they will kill deer just like you.

Pictionary

He just stands there

with the bloody knife in his hands,

hovering over top his victim

As the adrenalin courses through his vains

the bursting shock of reality,

of what just conspired,

HITS HIM….

 

Falling to his knees,

praying to his illforgoten god

a god, until now, he has never admired

He needs help,

he needs salvation,

from the situation

he has now found himself in

 

All of the drugs

and all of the long nights

have utterly altered his personality

A feeling he hasn’t felt in awhile

hits him like a tsunami wave

and crashes down

GUILT….

 

But as he failed to realize,

GUILT HAS NO PLACE WITH THE DEAD

 

The sirens squeal and flash,

he knows whats coming

he sees a gun,

picks it up,

and puts it to his head….

BANG!…..

 

And it’s all over