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
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
Stay away,
You can’t be responsible for this
These open wide cries
This splitting of my wrists
I’m standing at the end
I tip-toe the sharpened edge
May this reckless air be blessed
My higher soul I do not stress
On I press, so limited
It’s all that I can do
The risk I carve right through
To give myself little more room
To linger as a wound
Slit of pattern-less time
Sorted fast out of line
As the blood begins to dry
Just wanted to post the painting I did that goes with this poem. Below is a skull drawing I’m beginning. If I can get my head clear long enough to paint it, I’ll have that up this weekend probably.
I’ve stolen another razor. The little pieces of sharp metal my mother uses in her sewing machines. I feel so low about it. Wondering to myself why steal razors when I have a knife all my own? Razors just hurt a little more, that’s why. That’s all.
I want out.
Skull thrown
Against a wooden wall
Nails tap the mirror then-
Shards
Thank you.
Now look away.
The stitches I pull open
Bone, tainted by the breeze
Moments infected pass with ease
They say ‘I know it hurts but breathe’
My darkened spirit sounds the trill
Another self I’ve got to kill
Pray tell; it’s a quick two or three
I bleed–the panic quells to peace
Between the breath and beating
I say I need no more
Now dazed, half awakened
And watching my blood pour
I protect them from their fear
The nightmare swimming in this mirror
I feel my angel turn away…
This time, the end,
Be near
I’m going back to what I usually do. Post my art and crappy poems and leave it at that. My personal life sucks and is not interesting and hearing me bitch about it is a huge waste of time. I’m eventually going to kill myself anyway. It stays with me and pulls me toward it; One day I’m going to get there.
Ellipsis
Face down,
I found myself
I crawl now, I am weak
My rise and fall are steep
Recurring trip and fall to cheek,
The comfort of my failures at close length
Sorrow filled thoughts I seek, I keep…
Those dark beliefs I grieve, I need….
For all the ones who never see
How many times I bleed
They live for the rising sun
I breathe beneath the dying one
An inflamed impurity of my unspoken pain
I knot a chain of nerve to vein; the screams are kept contained
My secret’s until death—sustained,
With un-dissolving hate for myself
For being the mistake; surviving for the other’s sake…
Continuing to be the only one I hurt, I blame…
For owning the full illness
In every breath I take
I just finished this one. I may add music and make a song out of it one of these days. Because the song I’ve been working on forever is about to get thrown away if a better idea doesn’t find its way to me.
I made a mistake in taking more medication. I want to laugh at the joke I am for trying my best to ‘figure it out’, for trying to stay safe and mindful of my actions. I woke up today feeling so drugged–I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to eat. May as well have been dead. Guess I’ll have to try something else. That’s all I have to keep me running in some way, even if at such a slow pace. Still here, as lost as ever.
I went to my family reunion today. It was a little bit more on the side of being a disappointment this year, as last year was, but hey, I didn’t expect I’d be around another year to make it to the ‘09 reunion, so anyway. I won a few prizes in the raffle. I made it through the whole day without getting frustrated with my surroundings like last year. But I’m not so sure that means improvement. It only means I had a lucky day where nothing broke the surface.
I’m going to take an extra 50mg of my medication tonight. Something’s not going right here. I keep thinking about taking my knife out, and using it to cut something besides just my tablet pills in half. This doesn’t happen often. But it’s like there are tears I’m keeping held so tightly from falling. I believe crying won’t be enough; that it’ll make this all worse and I will no longer have anything at all to hold onto, you know?
Look at me. Trying to explain a feeling I just can’t make sound very rational. There’s not too much about the person I am and what I feel that makes sense anymore. I’m guilty. My constant gloomy moods do feel like they are my fault. All my fault. And everything I’ve done lately to save myself has fallen short.
It might happen. The next time this odd feeling of being abandoned in some way by another person, or too full on sadness, or too sick with the world or the very body I’m trapped in…When I can’t breathe as I think of how I’m so easily thrown aside by others; or further, when I feel I should not only be thrown aside but shredded up and thrown away. I’ve got to deal with this some way.
I’m slowly working on new writings, but I’m definitely repeating myself. What’s below is something I wrote that hints at the three month course I took. I feel just as connected to it right now though. Just in a slightly different way.
Pages of butchered work
Somewhere else, I went
From all hell…this evidence
A slit throat of hurt
They made me out in the dark
Zaps, frizz and jitter of will
Cycled in unreal certainty; the chill
Guarded shrine of my still, dead heart
To be given a chance
The lie must be exquisite
A firm belief; a rare incision’s
Edge and unknown plan
Too much has been going on at once in my life right now. Or maybe it just feels that way. I’m constantly trying to distract myself from feeling this sort of loss inside. I’m waiting on other people now before my volunteering can begin at the hospital.
Why the hell does society have to make everything so difficult? I’m basically being harassed by debt collectors about my student loan. They’ll get their money when I get a damn job. It makes me want to lose it. Life costs too much and it isn’t worth it to me. Never was…is never going to be…
I received a letter from my therapist. An apology letter actually. She’d like me to come back, but I feel at an end with letting others try to pull thoughts from my head. I live in my secrets and they are going to be what kill me. End of story. My mind has already gone back to what it’s comfortable with. Why break it up when there’s nothing of value to me in doing so?
I have moments now where I feel guilt trying to well up, over my still being alive. Over how long I’ve let myself go without punishing myself. Despite the changes I’ve gotten used to, there’s still something about making it through another day that I just hate. I don’t want to have to hold on.
I don’t have faith I’ll get a job. Everything comes too late for me. I feel like any real opportunity will come only after I’m too dead and gone to take it up.
Either fast forward or
Drop and shatter dead
Time, in the rest of life
I’d rather not spend
I feel the edge of sudden end
Cold against my temple
Hanging my stick arms by rope
It wields its knife against my throat
“I’m well” will never mean I’m healed
It drags me away by the strings of vein
From my wrists, pulled through their bone
The blood ways wrestled from my soul
My voice lends a base
I understand that I should die
In gray of graves, a funeral haze
My blade peak high
The past lives I used to dream…
Moon bitten, lost in lunacy
I don’t hear it telling you
That you’re the worst God’s given breath
There’s nothing alive left in me
My essence is dried up flesh
Buy me tears; buy me a beating
All the more sweet for distracting me
They hover low; I watch the angels thieve my wings
And off they go, dragging their feet
Now I am as bitter and old
As the death curl of a blackened rose
Ever there, as the gripping rope
Of a suffocating smoke
The ghost of a stolen soul
Away, in cold kisses blown, I go
This is one of the new ones I’ve written. Maybe I’m getting worse or maybe I’m just not getting any better, either way I sort of like this one. It sounds different to me and that’s what I’m trying to go for. The title is confusing me now so that’s hopefully the only thing I’ll end up changing.
My right ear
Against the floor of my cell
I’d know of it, if I could see
But my eyes aren’t open, and
It’s too late for me to breathe
The night’s resulting splay-
Vile liquid pooling from my lips
Cold crust sealing my eyes shut
Mind pouring in the end
I’ve gone, but the fan above continues
Its swaying motion of brokenness,
The world still throws itself dizzy, round and round
And the eyes of heaven’s darkness still burst and bleed
And somewhere a rain is falling. The heroes
Put away their faces and graze in dark solitude
In shame for the lives they can not admit
Could never have been saved
——
One of the newer ones but it’s from March, before I started class. It’s just finished today that’s all…I don’t know why, but I’m a little nervous about posting any of the more recent stuff I’ve written. I guess I need to settle with the idea that I’m going to be writing about the same things, until something really changes in my life. I’m far too comfortable with writing about certain things. Even when I do attempt to write on a completely different topic, it always comes back to what’s familiar to me, if I make any sense with that. I’m working on it though.
