I thought I was safe
From the damage you had done
I had a new spark that was already much brighter than
We ever were
But all it took was a second of worry
And now the only thing I can see
Is the same boot that snuffed us out
About to come crashing down again somehow
I’m worried its my foot and not yours
And that I will never be safe
From the damage you did
You dropped me then
You dropped me hard
With only retroactive regard
I layed broken, shattered at your feet
A whole new person for you to meet
I have since then gotten back to a normal
A person with who
The comfortable, must be formal
I stand back on these legs of reforged ash
And watch with eyes of refractory glass
My heart and head splintered with a new man’s regret
Must come to understand his new mindset
I am not who I was before
To love the old made new heart sore
When I try to love
Love to try
My heart feels and reaches out
And is pierced by shards of doubt
Your joyful habits now bring pain
From me experiencing our past’s refrain
Because my essence bears a stain
I hold to lose, but that stays with disdain
My world is not a pane clear and true
It lays in ruin from naught but you
I look at your wonder
But my eyes see double, triple, more
From my hearts broken view into the world
I don’t know what I see, what I feel
I doubt these cracks will ever heal
I look to you through those very same cracks
And I see
The person and people we used to be
But I see so much more that I wish weren’t there
Things you, are, arent, could or couldnt be
And it just isnt fair
For you or for me
But .its what I see even if it isnt real
Its my broken world
For my broken heart to feel.
I just don’t know if what I see
Is mostly nobody
He walks and he’s tripping
Your heartstrings hes ripping
As he begins slipping
You feel a slight tug
Attached to his hug
Like he’s pulling the run
Out from you.
You’re lost and afraid
For the days you have paid
And the Love you have made
But i’m here to remind you
Not to feel so blue
Because the me that you knew
On my shoulder you can cry
Or resignedly sigh
And into it i’ll pry
For your well being.
When you’re feeling alone
Or cutting prone
Even just “out of the zone”
You can text me
Because you’re really cute
With your rocking glutes
And eye of newt
Now this poem is almost done
And it was kinda fun
But i’m going to run
Because poetry is hard
Like a dick.
You know it, somewhere deep within yourself, you do not belong here. This is not your home, despite how you have grown here, there are so many other places to go. How could anyone consider it life, to stay in one place for all of their days? Perhaps it could be considered life, but by hell’s gate it can not be called living. People constantly tell you that this lust is a phase, that it will pass. They say you will find someone, and you will settle down. They say once that happens you will want such a calm lifestyle. That one place will be enough. To hell with them, if you feel you deserve more, WANT more, who are they to tell you otherwise? They who have so readily accepted the fate that seemed most apparent, to grow old and die peacefully in the same spot they have gone through life? They do not own you, you own yourself. You have the right to your own life, and let nothing take it from you. No power takes priority over your life accept that which you place there. Perhaps you will die for no man, living on merely to survive. So be it, that is your right as a being possessing life and free will. Perhaps you shall throw yourself under the blade for others, to become a martyr for peace. So be it, let no person tell you otherwise. You, who have this one measly shot at life, at living, who are you to accept the rules others lay down before you? You are free to break the chains of “fate” that bind you. You know this is not your life, so you must change it. It will not come easily, nor through luck,it will be a fight against everything, risking everything. For the problem with so many nowadays is that they feel entitled to what they want, without the work for it. Should they see you doing more, there will be three paths they will take. The first path is that of jealousy, they will condemn you for taking a path so different and foreign from their own. They’re better you by the law that they are themselves, and thus they feel it fair to declare you a traitor, to say you are going too far from your roots, to say you aren’t worthy of what they cannot have. The second path is one of greed, they expect that by the principle of generosity, you must be expected to give unto them any good come to you. You owe no man anything, save for what you personally believe them worthy of. No person can demand your life from you. They third is of sloth, of a sort. They seem lax, but not for any malefic reason. They are merely content, as you might someday be. But you must fight, you must overcome these people,the society that rules them, and most importantly yourself. That is the sowing and the planting, as well as the tending, to change. Let not yourself be drawn to less than you deserve, take hold of the life you were given. Do not survive, live.
You look inside to see a sight
Of what you thought was alright
Before you looked you were fine
Now you know you walk a line
What you did was terribly wrong
But, of the pain, it was a third the prong
'Cause in the act there's pain of course
Then later you cry until you’re hoarse
Regretting the act you have committed
Turning the turned against which you pitted
One’s love of you with love of life
And how easy it would be to end such strife.
Now the pain is in your gut
Stabbing you as you walk your lonely rut
Sadness to guilt, to regret to pain
The one you loved has been slain
Gone forever out of your world
Your future of hate has been unfurled
Not by blade of foe, or friend
But by your act of playing pretend.
You lie there crying, awake
The voice whispers, “Its okay to break”
You think back to all the times before
You thought you had become so much more
You feel alone, “Good” you think
Then your stomach begins to sink
A new tear streams down your face
Leaving behind a glistening trace
You think back to the times you broke before
That left you crying on the floor
Then you WERE really alone
Whats different now, with just a phone?
A phone cant hold and stroke and whisper well
So away from your heart the phone fell
When miles away a phone was held near
Thinking thoughts, sad but dear
Of how help could be sent all that way
But it could not be, not that day.
So hold on, a little bit longer
With some help you’ll get a bit stronger
Until a day when what you fear
Wont be there, to plague your ear.
You were missing, gone, when I looked around.
I worried myself and looked about, and frowned.
So I went, and I looked, and I found you there,
Tears streamed down your face, behind your hair.
I looked and worried and cried on the inside,
But my worries and tears I was forced to hide,
So that I could sit down peacefully, there at your side
I sat, and held, and comforted you there,
And stroked, and kissed, your perfect hair,
And said, “It’s okay.”
How can I help?
I’m at your command,
Ever since I held your hand.
You may be mad, insane, and scarred,
But so what for someone likewise marred?
I can never know, I can never understand,
Just what exactly convinced you to hold my hand.
Whatever it was, whatever it may be,
From the deal you got a part of me.
What are adults, but makeshift children?
We’re taught when to smile.
We’re taught when to frown, then…
We’re taught to tilt our heads, and wonder why.
We’re told how to live, but not how to die.
We are who we meet from our head to our feet.
We take and we warp, we change, we repeat.
We see and we steal to use to appeal,
For another meal or something to feel.
So we can look in a mirror and see ourselves clearer.
But we don’t.
We see the parts we took and stole,
We retreat back into a hole,
Hoping to find a difference and a change
In all of the parts we copied and rearranged.
But we don’t.
We walk in the steps of the billions before us,
Ignoring the others who always abhor us.
We’ve had it all, every rise and every fall,
A person has felt or could ever feel.
We try to best the best of our past,
In the end it really cant last.
We know we’ll get better, we know we’ll succeed,
In escaping the hopeless, endless greed.
But what are we made of, if not those same parts?
They make up our insides, our heads and our hearts.
And if thats what were trying to get rid of,
That we have that deep-seated fear of
Can we get rid of it?
Can we escape?
But we don’t.