Are Horrible. Even more so when people, family, have forgotten. But that wouldn’t matter so much if I weren’t around to know it. I just need to be put somewhere.
Get rid of this pain
Put my faith into something
Maybe these pills,
Then I’ll be alright
Or this knife;
Maybe then I’ll sleep tonight
Within this lonely place
I’ve been still with every lie
And as I sleep in dark escape
I’ll wake ready to die.
This is something I painted a few weeks ago. I think it goes with this poem alright enough. It’s also the image I have as my blog header.
To Pieces
Soaked by the falling rain
The bottom of a shoe
Always in my face
The live body
The prison cell
Each heartbeat marks
The bars of hell
Release this fury –trace with knife
Along my throat, along my thigh
Those precious blood ways I outline
Tomorrow at the back of mind
Pull my arms and legs apart,
Peel away my veins
Nowhere am I beautiful
My bruised dead face
I dream the open window
My several stories high
I’ve opened everything up
I’ve eaten all my insides
I’m licking at each bone
I bite to pieces,
Here alone
I really don’t have much to say anymore about my life. I don’t see past a year from now. This doesn’t change. I think I’m going to give up looking for a job right now as I don’t even understand how I’m able to function during the day. There’s nothing keeping me together and to be honest I’m having brief moments where I’m all about the details in how to get rid of myself, they’re getting into my dreams again. Things are just so messed up. I should be seeing the good I’ve been given and try to make something of myself, but I can’t get past just not being able to care, just not wanting to be here in the first place. And I feel I’d be doing everyone a favor if I killed myself–sooner rather than later.
But you know already. It’s my same tired story
This is the painting I finished a week ago. I wanted to show something about what I hold onto. Everything that hurts basically. And like in the one before this, the person represents one greater than what I am now. What I could be, except in this one she’s with dark around the eyes and a black shape for a mouth representing silence. I didn’t plan this painting out too well, but I think that’s why I liked working on it so much. Even though I didn’t know where I was going with it, I worked in detail, so at least I can feel good about that.
I’ve written more than I have in months from my computer being out so many days. I’ll have some of that up soon hopefully. I’m trying my best not to fall apart as I look back on this past year, my birthday being around the corner and all. I didn’t want the circumstances to be the same, but I have not done enough on my part to deserve a change. And another years is just hard to think about right now.
This is a painting I finished a month ago. It’s taken me that long to really understand what I even created, but I think I know now. This is a figure I take as representing the person I could be being taken down. Attacked, blinded by darkness, without arms representing a lack of control, and the white shape of the mouth represents how the words being spoken are always lost to the surrounding noise and confusion (explaining the white, red, sharp background). Otherwise, it’s just a weird and slightly creepy picture that really has nothing more to offer. I don’t know why I spend time painting anymore really. I don’t do it for money or for people to like me. But maybe it’s so that I can feel I have something to call my own right now. As useless and undeserving as I feel, that’s all I can say.
I wrote something to go along with this that I’ll post later, if I can get my computer to act right for once.
Based on another little sketch.
I don’t have much to say really. I’m doing okay. Drawing on my last piece of ply wood is taking up good time, distraction and all that. Oh, and I’ve had another chance to finish recording a song I wrote. With the way my house is, it’s hard to get time where its totally quiet. My recorder picks up everything.
This poem doesn’t have a title yet. I’m still writing a lot, I’m just going slow with editing. It’s like I write then throw it somewhere and have it sit for days, anyway…
The last I wished them goodnight
I’d been writing my goodbye
But somehow the lamp was thrown
And broke into its pieces
Nothing else is life except
Our grief in empty reasons
You are my only friend
Your hands stay tight around my neck
Kill me, I’ve been begging you
And you’re trying your best
Real beyond my trepidation
You have my grave here in this dark
In your soul, your airlessness
At the end of all my lives
