Collection of Poems

#13

We are constantly waiting and violently shaking

It is holding us back, holding me back.

These nights in the basement and my lack of patience.

Is holding us back, holding me back.

Now it is time to wake up this nightmare is over.

Everyone is screaming this nightmare is over.

My nightmare…

It is over.

I find myself reminiscing about a time before all this.

When we were younger and recklessly confident.

The days when were we giants amongst men.

Or at least we thought.

Then the world changed, and we became bitter.

Now we are so much older

With the weight of the world on our shoulders.

Frantically trying to shrug.

Self-medicating and self-depreciating

These self-loathing habits are keeping me sick.

I am battered and broken.

These things left unspoken.

I obsess over things that I wish I had said.

We spent so much time screaming.

We were desperate for a reaction.

We lost our motivations. We kept throwing it away.

Somehow, I am the only one left here.

Alone in this mess we made.

The air is silent and reeks of desperation.

There are tattered notebooks littering the floor.

They are filled with things I cannot remember writing.

Blood spattered pages inscribed with late-night rantings

They tell me this is madness

But this is my madness.

Floodgates

When what we have turns to ashes,

Burn the bridge and the city along with it.

We will laugh while we dance in the flames.

With our feet on hot embers they call us insane.

Open the floodgates and let the water cleanse us.

I am so sick and so tired, wash this burden away.

It feels like I am drowning, I have severed my lifeline.

I thrash and I struggle. I am fading away.

You sit there calmly, showing no fear, no panic.

It must smolder there under your tranquil surface.

Right next to those skeletons in your closet

And the all the issues in your mind.

I ask of you only one thing, for all those favors I have done.

When I die burn my body and scatter the ashes.

Tie my cons around your neck.

Wear them like the necklace I never bought for you.

That one you thought you deserved.

This might not be the one you wanted,

But it is the burden you deserve.

Last Time…Maybe

Every time I write my mind keeps returning to you.

I am putting myself back together,

But I need to purge these thoughts of you.

This is the last time, I swear it is the last time, the very last time

I write anything about you.

I am cleansing my pallet of you.

You have left a bitter taste.

Although when you are not on these pages, things seem out of place.

I have always had people I would kill for,

But you were the only one I would die for.

Now it feels like I am dying to get over you.

I sit alone and sometimes realize

I am keeping company with a person I hate.

I have started smoking cigarettes,

A slow suicide.

No one said it had to be quick,

Like getting you out of my mind.

Bad Days

I have bad days this is just another one. 

This is becoming my normality it would seem.

I cannot remember the last time I was happy or even content.

When everything was beautiful, and nothing hurt.

I am searching for the answers to unknown questions.

Running in circles around the maze in my own head.

Days like this I recall certain events from my past.

When I was a child I fell through the ice.

A man came by and pulled me out of the water.

Sometimes I resent him.  Hating the fact, he did not mind his own business.

Leaving me alone in the icy water to fade into the ether.

To drift into a hypothermic sleep.

If he had I could have been mourned and remembered rather than loathed.

Modern Day Romeo and Juliet

If our lives were a movie it would have to be a tragedy.

A beautiful beginning ending with scorn.

I would play the villain,

You should know I do it so well.

You would be a casualty in the war I fight against myself.

You could be Juliet.

I would be a depressing Romeo.

I have taken enough poison to kill us both.

We had the attraction; I just lacked the devotion.

I struggle with these things we call emotions.

We wear these masks and costumes.

We wear them so well.

After the inevitable exposing of all that lies beneath,

All that is left are the graphic memories.

Those mixed tapes you made me are always stuck in my mind.

The way “A Clockwork Orange” turned into a New England sunrise.

All your broken pieces, the edges fit into mine.

This puzzle is missing pieces, they have been gone for a long time.

Train Station

Waiting for the train today I thought of you.

The same feeling of hopelessness encroached around me like a damp mold infested blanket.

I was paralyzed with hopelessness and thought I would crumble.

My ruined body spilling across the platform

Pieces of myself collecting around bystanders’ shoes like the tide washing onto the shore.

I then realized the only thing holding me together is knowing that you are falling apart.

Sweet little whispers mask your astonishing lies.

They are still so vivid and present.

They pepper the bedsheets that cloak my mind.

If I could start over from where it all began,

Things would have to be different; I would change who I am.

Stop grasping at those straws you dangle for me.

I keep drawing the short one it seems,

You are just another bad habit I am trying to break.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: