Sitting in a void
Thinking about doing better
Doing it on loop
And not able to do better
Same old sobbing story to tell
All imaginary unimaginable gaps to fill
One mind to think about it all
Planning to make it better than all
Doing it on loop
Sitting in a void
Scared to do something new
Knowing the old methods are not enough
Reassuring you have got it tough
Trying to call out you own bluff
Doing it on loop
Sitting in a void
don't look back.
don't do this.
don't do that.
don't be you.
don't frown.
all things that flood my mind.
also words i've heard along the line.
i say them in attempt to hide
what's actually going on inside
you don't know what's happening in your daily life.
you wake up, almost robotically
doing what you have to
what you've always done.
you make mistakes.
but you're human.
another thing i'll tell myself.
Trying to find a way
That will make me feel the same
When i was younger and my mind
Wasn't overhelmed by pain
Emotions are drifting in my head
Trying to forget old wounds in my heart
Make me feel the same
When i was younger happier man.
I'm a simple person,
or, more so;
I like to think I'm a simple person.
You aren't a simple person,
or, more so;
I'm a simple person trying to figure out another.
Your movements,
Your facial expressions,
Your words.
I spend time figuring out,
What every choice you make is all about,
But, I am only to find
That even an individual like me, who is deemed as "smart" and "kind,"
Will never be able to comprehend even a fraction of your mind.
I'm a simple person,
or, more so;
Catastrophe is about how I get angry when I don't mean it. How I say words I don't mean, then regret them later.
That's a lie.
This poem does not have a meaning.
Really nothing has a meaning, if you think about it.
Everything withers and dies eventually.
The strongest rock, the sharpest blade.
The rock will crack and disintegrate.
The blade will rust and crumble.
The mind will rot and tear itself apart.
The only thing that is truly eternal is time.
Time is forever.
Is it normal to feel so many people inside you
and there always there
there all you
just different sides of you
and your all of them
but when you think about them
your confused
and the confused you is confused
Always a argument
the drama queen
the girl who's mean
and there all me
its ok if you think I'm insane
or theres something wrong with my brain
most people think of me as nobody
or just don't think of me
I was made from moving parts
Bolts and wires and such
There were no daisies and sweet smells
In my creation
as I was made from harsh reality's that were yet to be discovered
They built me from the oppression that minority's had faced
But filled me with the privilege that some were lucky to receive
My head was compiled of knowledge
only based on the things
they thought would fulfill their darkest desires
I was taught to hide myself live alone in my misery
I was a creation built for their pleasure
without
a mind of my own Unloved
uncaring without a home but I was a creation
Do you remember?
The way you talk to me
The way I talk to you
Only our minds know
Never did we say anything
The way we look at each other
The way we send each other a sign
Only our hearts know
I tried to grant a wish
The way I would only know
The way you would know
Only that is what became of our silence
November rain clots in
the fertilized gutter of my
dust packed soul,
existence storms within me
ticker tape thoughts struck by lightning
mad stockholders of cells sunspot through my flesh
reaching to sear the plastic backdrop
through which I walk.
Telling myself of Great Auk stars
does not create enough
petroleum jelly in my mind
to ease the burns from
my inward x-raying eyes--
frog legs of pain
can-can in burlesque of my seriousness.
my stomach unreels in newsreel battle gore,
if you ask me what I'm thinking
I'll just say it's this stressful feeling
that's comes up creeping
it sticks with me
It doesn't go away
no matter how many times I say
that I'm fine.
lying to myself may pass the time
but it sure as hell isn't good for my mind
Tired.
I am exhausted.
My bed holds no solace for me.
My sleep is plagued by nightmares.
My siblings sleep soundly beside me..
How envious I am.
By dawn, the terrors have been taken from my mind
leaving no visible trace but the race of my heart
the sweat on my brow,
and the tears streaking down on my face
My brain is my jailer.
My cranium is my cell.
My thoughts are my punishment.
My exhaustion is not only physical now,
but emotional as well.
I am done with the lies,
Sometimes mild and sometimes noisy is my mind, like the wind.
And my thoughts, like those rustling leaves, blown away far and near.