Wishing I Could Write About You

I sit here and wish that I could write about you

I’d express to you feelings you thought were lost in the catacombs of my thoughts,

I’d tell you of how much hydration was lost

as tears flowed freely and breath–unable to be caught.

I’d remind you of the night that fate matched us together

When I met you, you were the only one I could picture, and for the better;

You taught me so much, whether it’d be about myself or a game about Settlers.

Life then was paradise, when I looked into your pair of eyes, I was often stuck,

Or you could even say I was–paralyzed.

For you, I know I changed because I would feed you truth,

But to the others it’d often be a pair of lies.

Thus love happened sooner than I had ever realized.

You were my pineapple, and I’d often express

That you were the best, my family loved you, including Juicy (our pet), and to this day I would never regret calling you my fucking sunshine, but damn it,

I digress

This isn’t a love poem, because love here has died without you.

You’ve moved on, I’ve progressed and the world knows no looking back to be true.

Which is why I know I shouldn’t write about you.

 

I sit here and wish that I could write about you

I don’t know another I fought so hard with, or against.

Youth made our relationship fiery, constant nights of arguments.

And then we’d make up. Again and again—and to that, God I repent.

Jealousy in our nature, I’m surprised we survived,

So long together and even years later we’d try to revive

Something that had already up and died.

Every time we are together we always recall

The mistakes that the other made, but we’d say it was “my fault.”

And that same time I sit and wonder in awe

How we got so close by being so far.

No matter the lack of communication

We always find our way back to each other and, thus

invite temptation.

So given the circumstances of our situation

I must bid you adieu—

No more lapses to the past, even though you were my muse,

These be the reasons why I shouldn’t write about you.

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Tears I Cannot Shed

These are the tears that I cannot shed. I feel them well up inside,

I feel the rush up my gut into my throat and to my face.

I feel them get right to the bottom of my eyes.

My heart sinks and my stomach turns uneasily.

The façade of a smile on my face fights to stay in place.

I muster, to the best of my ability,

A laugh.

But instead a sigh from deep within me explodes out.

I can feel the resistance built up over the years begin to crinkle.

My head begins to shake and my throat muscles tighten to the point where I cannot breathe.

I fight for air under the blanket of deep disparity that’s tagged along for years.

I reach for my chest and ball my fist,

I try to control my breathing but the demons inside also fight for dominance.

My mind gets bogged down in thoughts and memories of what should have been

And how things could have gone.

I think about all the times I didn’t care and all the fucks I could have given.

I shake my head.

The thoughts won’t go away, but I shake in hope that somehow I will find respite

I tell myself “let go, please, fucking let go.”

I want to let it out so bad but I cannot. I don’t know why. But inside,

My tears are kept.

The Truth

Shots ring out
The sky falls down.
A mother yells “son!”
Blood soaks the ground.
Ceaseless is the world.
Care not about the sun.
Brightness the son brought,

The land now bleak and in depression.

A sad time, we see that violence is the truth,

A reality to abhor.
Pain strikes the cord, deep in a mans core.
Violence is the truth.
A reality to abhor.

Pay to Play

She stood by the door

About a foot under the awning

She bade me to come in

Lack of willpower leading me to another sin

She told me she was down for anything

Ready to act crazy

But before we began, she had to say,

Y’know babe, for this, you gotta pay to play

An act so precious

Given up as a commodity.

A question I ask, as not to be funny

But in all reality, what is love to money?

They reply to ‘love giving’ as just another grind.

A tool to get by

But what was once worthwhile

Is given up as easily as a car eats miles.

A fair trade, is a laughable statement at best.

You fulfill another’s carnal desire,

To consume your needs of today,

You tell the poor soul, ‘You have to pay, to play.’

As much as my body quivered for another

I knew then it was time to go.

Knowing the aftermath, of playing this game

I felt it better to be alone, then to pay this dame.

Business is business,

Yeah, I understand that fact.

But to have me pay for a contradiction,

Something worth everything and nothin’?

‘I beg for forgiveness darling, but,

This ain’t my type of party.

You’re  beautiful, and with you I’d love to lay

But you’re an expendable service, I’ll never pay to play.’

The Long Road

Painful recollections of the past haunt me as I travel along my path of seemingly endless forks.

No way I turn is wrong, and yet, I feel no closer today to my objective than I did months ago.

When I began this journey I was accompanied by many.

Some told me they would solemnly stick by my side until the end.

Those are the ones who fell off and dissipated fastest.

There were those who said they would try and help along the way, they would scout up ahead and we would help each other along.

Those are the ones who never came back.

There were those who smiled in my face, took my hand, and stabbed me in the back.

At least I knew their face, to know what a true enemy looked like.

There were some occasions where they turned out more friend than those who consorted behind my back.

 

I push on. Alone. Battle-tested. Beaten and bruised. Exhausted.

But I still move on.

I see the Others in groups, fighting, and feinding and living and dying.

‘You Only Live Once’, a sign read down one path.

On its back it read ‘You’ll Always Die Alone’.

It took years to figure out the meaning, the true meaning, and as morbid and depressing as it seems, the sign is right. We can live together forever, but when it’s my time. It is MY time. Never OUR time…

 

I take a step not for anyone else anymore. Just for me.

When I finally climb and reach the pinnacle I don’t know what I will see. Will I see those who I cared for before I left on my journey? Will I see my enemies and competitors still fighting to reach where I am? Will I see God?

I don’t know.

But,

This doesn’t burden me.

My heart beats not for life anymore it seems; it just wants for me to make it to my final destination.

My breath expels from my lungs, just so I can taste the success I have tried so long to achieve.

My eyes still take in light, so I can burn the image of true victory deeply into my brain.

 

As a youth, it dawned on me that I would one day have to go on, alone, and find my own way through this life. I feared not knowing what was going to happen with each passing day. I feared not having anyone around to push me to keep going. I feared not having a loved one to see me through it all

As an older man I see that those aren’t things to be afraid of.

I’ve found myself being fearless, even in the face of a nemesis like Death.

And that is something to truly be afraid of.

 

I push on. I know my path will take me to my promised land soon enough.

Until my legs fail, my body breaks, my arms immobilize and I stop breathing, I will continue to travel.

In search, of my meaning.

Thoughts of Suicide

The pressure of life has gotten me down.

I can’t eat any more. I can’t fuckin sleep. The seconds, minutes and hours of the day wrap together in chaotic dissonance.

I am distracted and discontent.  I am confused and desperate.

I’ve lost everything I had. My money, my career, my best friend. My love.

It’d be easier now, right now, to exercise my cursed being from this disgusting place…

I bought my ‘piece of mind’  from a dealer up the street from my house. I was ready. The shit will end tonight.

I put the metallic silver peace maker against my temple.

Close my eyes.

The cold tremble in my chest drops to my stomach. Nervousness overcomes my being.

My hands sweat profusely. I can hear my heart beat loudly, almost as if in protest.

“I give up.” I try to convince myself. “I fuckin’ give the fuck up, man..”

The trigger. I feel it between my index finger. It’s a lot harder to pull down when you aren’t aiming at another.

“Just do it. Do it!” I tell myself.

My breathing becomes short bursts. Adrenaline begins to rush through my body.

I begin to feel sick.

The weight of the gun begins to slowly make my arm tremble.

“what are you frightened of, kid?”

A voice to the side of me startles me and shocks me back to reality. I open my eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights and point the gun in the direction of the voice.

A young man with fair skin sits across from me. He is dressed in all black. His hair is slicked back neatly. He sits on my bed next to me, playing with a cell phone.

“Who in the hell…?” I begin.

“Do I really need to formally introduce myself?” He asks smoothly, not looking away from his phone.

I open my mouth to answer, but only a breath is released.

“Hurry up, kid.” He says, finally looking at me with a grin. His solid black eyes mesmerized me. I couldn’t look away from him. His cold eyes seemingly peered into my soul. I felt uneasy, but I wasn’t feeling as if I needed to defend myself.

“Why are you…? How did you..?” I start up again.

He shakes his head and groans. He closes his eyes and rubs between them.

“Though it be not your predestined time, child” He says breathing deeply. “I have been called to arrange a get away for you. A ticket straight out of this…. Life.”

My mouth slowly drops open, and I remember the gun in my hand. I look to it.

“Yep. still there..” I think to myself. “So does that mean ghosts carry guns? Shit! Am I a ghost?”

I begin to ask the stranger and he puts his hand up to stop me.

“Not yet, you aren’t dead. I was sent here to, more or less, watch you follow through with this. I am here as an arbitrator. I care not whether or not you die. I just have to watch. Quite a job, huh?”

“I don’t have anything else to live for.. I lost everything.. I don’t have anyone to talk to. I don’t have anyone to love or to love me back.. I’m….. I’m worthless.” I begin to sob slowly. “What do I have to live for!?”

“You beings do not listen very closely. Not only do I have to put this foolish flesh costume on for you, but I also need to repeat myself…” He stands up. He is incredibly tall and slender and towers over me. “I care not for your welfare. I am here to give you your ticket, if you so choose it.”

“I want this pain to go away…” I say, still crying.

“Then do it, child. Kill yourself.”

I shake my head, I don’t know if I can. I don’t know…. If I can.

“I don’t know if I can.” I say helplessly.

“Then don’t.” He says, obviously becoming more and more annoyed with me.

“Can you help me, sir? Please?” I look up to him.

He bends down. He hovers his face close to mine and stares in my eyes again. I begin to retch back, the stench of burnt plastic and rubbing alcohol escape from his body. He cocks his head at an angle to the side, still staring me down and says,

“No.”

I swallow hard and slowly move back, across my bed.

“You know,” he says turning away from me and walking towards a mirror. “If I were a pathetic sack of worthlessness I’d kill myself too. The world would be better. What do you do BUT take up oxygen and resources from better specimen?”

I look at the ‘arbitrator’ confused.

“You have no reason to be here anymore. If I could take that tool from you, I’d kill you myself. But, alas, it doesn’t work like that. So come along, child. Pull the trigger, take your ticket and lets go.”

“I thought you said you didn’t care!? The fuck man!? I know I have some worth, I’m just in a rut, that’s all” I begin to shake my head and cry harder. “I’m just, I’m just confused is all. This has to be a cry for help!”

“Funny… You cry for help and no one is here. None in the physical anyway.” He laughs. “Worthless flesh skin…”

“NO! I just need help! That’s it! I want help. God I want HELP! PLEASE!” I lay back on the bed, crippled with sadness. “Don’t forsake me, PLEASE!”

The man begins to laugh even harder.

“Forsake YOU!? Foolish being… get it over with!”

I slowly put the gun to my head. Mucus and tears stream down my hot face. I didn’t care anymore. I didn’t care. I’ll leave now. I don’t CARE!

I begin to pull the trigger.

“What do you think awaits you?” The man asks, as I begin to hesitate.

I sit up some to look at him. He is back looking down at his phone.

“You will die anyway, at some point. Why rush it? You have no clue what goes on after your short time on this plane of existence,  it could be worse elsewhere..” He says as he slowly puts his phone down and stares at me. His face becomes grim and he steps towards the bed. He puts his hand on mine. His frosty hand send chills through my body. He clutches the gun in my hand and puts it back to my temple.

“Of course, if it’s your time…” He smiles and his eyes widen. He squeezes my wrist, which clinches my hand.

The trigger is pulled.

“NOOOO!” I yell as I hear three clicks against my skull.

I lay on the floor of my room, soaked in sweat. The gun still clutched in my hand. I look at it and throw it away from me in disgust. As it hits the ground a thunderous clap erupts from it as it discharges. The bullet shoots upwards, into my ceiling. I look at the hole in shock and turn over to my stomach and begin to cry again. Life may be hard, but I have to continue… I shake my head, reliving, (could it have been real?) my last few minutes.

The smell of burnt plastic hits my nose again and I lurch up, looking for the man. I search around the room, but cannot see him.

“Guess it wasn’t your time yet, kid. Three bullets that don’t fire off? Who’d have thought. My missions been accomplished, see ya soon”

I sit back to the bed. A feeling of relief washes over me.

I immediately begin to thank God for sending his quite peculiar angel to help me.

I think it was an angel… Quite strange…

And what in the hell did he mean by ‘see ya soon…??’

Confessions from a Lustful Soul

Overflowing with emotions, I’ve come to confess.

The evils of my flesh,

that which I do detest.

The carnal nature of life,

yearning for another just for the night

Let them leave. I put up no fight.

A gentleman in light a bastard in dark.

I seek weak minded game, it’s my spark.

I can sniff out my prey for miles like a shark.

I want to beg for forgiveness. ButI cannot come to terms.

Cast down by my shadows and at night I yearn.

Like a demon inside, one that I cannot spurn.

Please forgive me. Those who believed I was faithful

Please forgive me, those who let their hearts escape to,

me,

I cannot bare to break you.

Our minds and spirits were once one.

But we never shared the love, I understand if now you shun,

Me and my deeds of selfish fun.

This is a curse and I ask for your help.

Soon the doorbell will ring, and another will become one with myself.

But, only momentarily, their essence of lust will sit atop a filled shelf.

Don’t judge this man, I beg society.

For his lack of honesty and piety.

Just pray the Lord will keep His eyes on me.