7, finally stumbling across
the right words to scream outloud
but coming out in waves of
fake emotions
coming across with little to no sense
I waited so long to cry out into the palms of
my mother’s ears
when I could have said what needed to be yelled
across the fires of the pews
But I couldn’t find the right way to
crawl into the arms of the devil’s skin
that night
when I realized
he fucked me over
with open wings
and closed eyelids
didn’t appreciate you as much as one might
And maybe you might want to blame me
And I hope you do because it is my fault
It is not your fault that you let me in and I couldn’t keep my door open enough to let your light in
It is not your fault that you felt so deeply for someone who makes webs out of people and fights to weave through it when the person packs up and flees
It is not your fault that you are choosing happiness over heart ache, if anything, isn’t that more rewarding than going to bed wondering whether someone is going to leave or not?
You are a strong light, not just a strong shoulder for those who can’t always feel.
You are not a sponge even if it seems like you just keep soaking and your heart keeps growing
You are not the broken promises used to build you up and destroy you lower
You are not the pain you feel or the people who try to take your good things away
You are you, you are yourself, you are a good person
You are doing what’s best for you and you will get through
To you, CinFox.
I see, or so I thought I saw
Something less but something more
I saw, or so I think I saw
Something more out of something less
And I saw what I see now and I see what I saw then
Out of something less came something more
Music I listened to while typing this poem out:
Without You – Oh Wonder
I didn’t want to push, rush the chaos Oh good old chaos, destruction reconstruction of this mind digging torture
You know, no one can drill in deep where there is only surface now so get chipping away
Use your best tools and your latest techniques mine are so old and as concrete I don’t worship things anymore but I like the idea that I’m already creating a home for myself
After I leave this dreaded head space I walk around so weak and I used to appear quiet because I didn’t want people to know about me
Now I trudge around dragging my demons along my skin for people to see but I don’t bother with quick answers
Conversations, I love those. Intellectual spill your cries and what makes you cringe.
I live for what’s holding people back so I can compare my pain I need out, so maybe stop digging now and just throw yourself ontop of me while my body sleeps and soul drifts towards the bottom
I’d be lying
If I didn’t try
To tell you the truth
About wanting to lay down
Inside and stew
In my own grave
I’d be lying
If I spilt but didn’t cry
Whenever I needed to escape
This headspace cave
Built from nothing
Like a hotel, our bodies are being rented out temporarily I squander around for rooms that aren’t occupied but every spot is no longer vacant.
As I round the corners, slightly folded into eachother like a hospital bedsheet I realize that I don’t have Schitzophrenia but I have conversations with people who aren’t there
Are they? Maybe they’re all the versions of myself talking to people they used to know.
Ranting, screaming through my fingers but for some reason there is a block
Where, when why are there so many things stopping me, i’m allowing them to stop me, prevent me from simply waking up from my zombie-induced body bag
Simply trudging, walking, running through the subway tracks, hoping they’ll cave in and I’ll fall off the brink, edge shattered, sharp.
Just finding my way through the slow dancing legs the trees are waving to me, at me.
It seems the darkest lollies are dancing squirming at the sheets you pulled over us that night and where were you when they stopped uprooting?
Sudden sprouts where your orphices had caved prior to the accident your mindspace adapted as a freight change jumped and called you home when you needed something
Your words stopped making sense when your demons scratched at your back door screaming, waiting inside your vined beat
I’ve killed off parts of myself to keep others from caving in, ending themselves
Now I fill those dead ends with their’s to open back up
I walked to the bottom and risen higher than I needed to, fell back and flipped it all over and watched myself sprout
I turn the corner and there I am even without a mirror
I look up at the stars and my past ambitious self creeps up
I walk to the river bank and the water reminds me of all the obstacles I haven’t over come yet
I talk to new people and all I can think of is how much I’ve lost myself to
Embraeyceing 