Monthly Archives: October 2010

The Weight

When you’re told you will have to be the one to make huge decisions, and you believe with everything you’re made of that you will not be able to handle it all when it lands at your feet…That’s just where this poem comes from.

The Weight

I am sorry,
I don’t think I should know
You say you will not be here
But I’ll be the first to go

The terrifying weight we share
Soon to be all my own
Your words are the shadow I fear
I’m forced to follow you from here

There is a light you see in me
But I beg you, don’t believe it
My brittle frame—I can’t bear all you take,
And nothing part of the blessing you seek

This idea must kill itself; I’ve no one else to be
From this world I want nothing but away from what you think
I would let you see my dream, the always in falling
When ever I am thrown and told to fly without your wings

—————-

Lately I haven’t had the words. Nothing’s going through my mind besides how tired and flat my mind has felt. There are still things to paint and finish, but all I’ve wanted to do is sit and stare at the wall. Next week I start a temporary job and I can only hope my mind stays sharp enough to remember what I’m told and get these few weeks over with. That way, if something does happen to me, there’s some extra money left behind in my account for my mother. That’s about the only good my life could be to her. A small, pathetic repayment for everything I’ve cost. That’s all I’ve wanted to do, all these years–that’s it.

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The Turn Against

By Illusions

Lines and figures
But don’t ask me to explain
Those fragmented efforts I paint
Self worth I’m trying to exchange

By illusions of self control
I’m further losing any hold
More the cold and distance grows until
I’m nothing of my soul

The lock I was given looks disturbingly old
A transformation sick and slow
As scorpion smothers eagle
In frozen depths of sorrow

I love my isolation…
The safety of my unhappiness
Mindlessly present, I feel unreal
And I am seen as so much less

——————-

Almost finished with everything. A few days ago I wasn’t well, and I brought myself back to something I’ve been a way from. It’s up in the air now. No one is watching and I have not and will not say a word.

 

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The Drowned

Without hope for tomorrow
As long as you feel alone, you are
They try to relate, still you contemplate
No one listens, you’ve gone too far

And don’t remember to use what they gave you
You could never accept their help
It’s been so long and you’re so unwell
Even with all secrets bled nobody can tell

The new lies you fail to reflect in time
It’s in everyone’s eyes and wrinkling your space
Built up too carefully, you crumble in disgrace
An accepted illusion, it’s not you they’ll miss

The one spade for all these graves you dig
You will soon lie beneath
Isn’t it hard to forgive the beginning?
You’ve tried, but you’re still falling asleep

You used to ask, you used to want
What’s happened? The moment you start, you’re done
You are that string of gloomy days
Of rains too rich to value, all is drowned

They once tried to clear your sky
And rend your dark gray clouds
But the air to breathe and light needed to see
Aren’t so important now

The forgiving comfort of illness
Happiness would leave you with so much less
A nature nourished as you weaken all attempts
And burn the sweet air clean from any act of kindness

Weightless one and without spirit
Your faith in life long caught the wind
Away, as written throughout your years and
Years of abandonments

—————————————
Long and a little different I guess. Sorry if it’s hard to understand. I don’t like feeling like the only one who knows what I’m talking about, but that’s probably always going to be the case. Stuck in some kind of box, locked away talking to myself….I feel crazy.

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Home

Home

The beating of its tiny wings
This window is slight

Thin yourself, be air and sky
And listen to this world

Embrace the fear as it threads through you
Secure the opened mind

And see their dark intricacies
The Other’s and their mysteries are

Branded to your breath
They’ve written with the rain your place

In death

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And become one

Sometimes I feel so much anxiety about my life and where it’s headed and for all I have not done yet or should have already done by now—sometimes I just can’t breathe. My head is spinning, I don’t know what to do with my restless nerves, I can’t cry though I know some sort of a break down would be a relief from the way I’m forcing myself to keep it together. I just don’t want to do this anymore. Where can I go where nothing is expected of me, where nothing and no one needs me? They already don’t need me though. Suppose I’m making myself sound more important than I honest am…lol. Well then, for the heart, its beating, the blood, the breath. I don’t need these things. Haven’t done anything to deserve a chance here and it really seems ridiculous now. Shamefully ridiculous.

I’ve been rewriting lyrics wondering just where I am within them. It may end up like so many other attempts at songwriting. I pick apart so much, take out what feel like lies or feel cheap and unidentifiable until there’s nothing left to name.

A subject on my mind lately:

The Moment Known

Shadows move in
And become one with the darkness

A hint of the truth we’ve all waited for
The motionless-
Beloved hush at our very core

The breath- taken, gently opened door
Desiring more than all that’s been given before

You have a way to see inside
Appreciate this ache
For the moment it’s known that you must let go
You’ll already know your way

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Puzzle Piece

Something recent and different I think. It means something to me, that’s all that matters anyway.
—————

Take in another random son
Go on to kill the girl
Between them I am left without a place

What gives hope but is ultimately hopeless?
Feel bad enough about yourself
With tears to burn your flesh
The solid road and strong rope to drag us on our faces

Time allows the emptiness in all of us to bloom
The rose becomes so appalling in its endless unfold
As the tall walls are tilting loud and cringing over
Too many peel about too fast
But, remember the beginning?

When the first trickles of the river would creep
It is meant to feel, to read beneath where it’s already been
Center of a soul simply being found

The light you’d rather not trust sees you beading over
As you are taught the taste of passing—the tremors of great change
The ugly shreds and consumption of painfully shed skins
To swing these contemplations in a lonely brokenness

I don’t regret scrapping up dried blood
And clipping at these scars

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