I read many old poems I wrote before I realized here wasn't paradise
But the irony of it is-
My re-reading was for the sake of contributing to where I am
Because creatures adapt and change to their environment
And I need to thrive
I need to thrive because of the souls I so long for back home
I need to thrive because people triumphed over far more vicious circumstances
I need to thrive because I have faced awful pasts and made them step aside to let me pass
I need to thrive because I have no other choice
I want to spread myself out, though, thinly so I can make good art
Since that's what I think I've been placed on this dirt to do
So as long as I can do that, I'm succeeding
Happiness has become an afterthought by now-
Since happiness cannot exist in my environment, unless it's fleeting
And even then it is often only residual rekindled for what I feel for home
I never thought I cared about the idealistic prospect of home
But I care greatly for my loved ones, and that's what home is for me
They are my tribe
And it shakes my selfish spirit to have us all spread out throughout the world
I really don't know what I can do-
If you're asking if I'm happy- Are you asking me if I'm happy?
I had such high hopes, though I knew this would be growing foil
And now the growing pains only tear my vertebrae apart in a slow torturous way
I need to learn, though, and in spite of everything I think this is the best place for it
I love him, but my brother has become a cautionary tale by now
And we're all angry, though it is his choice
I just know that's a fate I fear myself
And I'm made of the same pedagogical book-dust as my ancestors
And I'm made of the same artistic stardust as my loved ones
And I need this
Because sometimes being broken is much more wondrous for the audience than comfy little creatures
I know I'm melodramatic
Things probably aren't as bad as I perceive them
I've learned lots already
But I've cried lots enough already
My heart has been broken lots, not for the better, already
I wanted to be Hunter, not Cliff
I wanted to write adventures, not tragedies
Though my pen is leaning towards the latter
Because art imitates life
And I liked this summer when I thought the people like the ones I'm now faced with only existed as straw antagonists and sparse evils.
I want to open my chest and let all the glitter glue bodily fluids fall out
I get it now, why those I love who are like me in this way flaunt this one attribute
When faced with misery like this, it's a defense mechanism
"Oh so you hate that quality that makes up my identity? Here it is uncompromised, choke on that, Babe!"
And I do that
I bare my diaphragmatic fat, for a costume but also for a point
I want to flaunt everything I'm hated for here
Now I'll be the one being thrown out of places, like I was with the dear friends I miss so
I want to stay home in January
I'm bad at math but the cost will be about the same
And I could get a job, or at least try to
But I think I need to refuel
I promise I'm not giving up
And I may be seen as a failure for it
But if I manage to pull these next eight weeks off-
I think I'll need rejuvenation
And I love my loved ones so
I just feel like I need this
My neutral is teary-eyed now a days
I just need a good cry
And I want to send them letters
But it would mean admitting defeat, in a way, if I am to be honest-
Which, of course, I must be
But some people read these brain-blossoms anyways
So I know they know
I'm listening to a song simply called, "new sad song"
And it has my heart because that's all I do now a days it seems
Write new sad poems
I'm not even back on the pills, but my mind is back to that state
Perhaps it's the thespian tyrant
Since she breaks me like an egg-shell
I'm less sure that I can defeat her
I have vitriol but it doesn't flow as fast
It manages to seep into and poison the glitter glue bodily fluids that I usually don't even care to show
Since before now it didn't matter
Not much since I attach myself to people anyways
I'm a parasitic pansexual
So no one ever needed to know
Unless it comes up in conversation
It's one of those things, you know?
But I'm just a mess of identity now a days and I vent through this
Since I have no other way
I talk to friends
But I cannot see their eyes meet mine
They cannot see their tears
I cannot feel their chest or feet lift off the floor when I hug them with gusto
My entire way of communication is compromised
And I know this is a useless thing
I'll look back at it like the old poetry of mine I read today
And think-
Ah, why was I ever that sad over something so small
But it isn't small
Dear future self, this isn't small
You may have figured out means to cope that I haven't yet
But it isn't small
At this point and time you've uprooted yourself for God's sake
Your blood is boiling
Your eyeballs drown in tears
Your abdomen wretches and shakes
And your brain doesn't know how to keep your soul from shattering
And your head darts around to make sure the roommates don't pop in to see you in this state
Though your hands that type know they wouldn't stop even if they did
"We are artists for God's sake" your conscience screams at the hypothetical intruders
"This is what we're supposed to do, and if you wish to look down on me for it-
Well-
You certainly wouldn't be the first one here..."
It's nearly one in the morning
And something that's not this is due tomorrow
But this is more important since I cannot cope unless I catharsis
Tears make my face itch
That's why I don't like makeup for myself
I've been doing a lot to myself that I don't really like
Like nodding along with vicious lies
Since "It isn't worth spoiling your grade for"
But I'm getting better
I'm setting out to do something stupid
Write a story that wallows in my deepest fears, regrets and sorrows
But it must be told, that's what I've learned in my short time here
Ribs must be ripped, but first hands must be held
And now as I hold my hands out
No one takes them
So I long to reach them further to where my beloveds reside
But my short fat arms barely reach a few feet
I'm becoming a corpse here
Tearing my chest open
Painting my face
Trudging along
And falling apart
I need to sew myself together
And tell myself one of the things I always do
"No such details will spoil my plan; that is the kind of girl I am"
But when all your body wants to let you do is sob, it gets hard to believe that mantra
And I've written eternities of nearly nothing right now
But I'm reaching out for the temporary closure catharsis usually grants me
Yet no beautiful bandage has fallen from the sky yet
Nothing to wrap my re-sewn cadaver with
While my soul bounces off the wall of my body cavity
A restless thing that knows not everything will be alright
Though the far away beauty that I speak with nightly claims it will be
And I know she's right since I have to prevail
Her and I faced the grey wind and flourished
But this is much harder
Because it was still home
And I was still knit tightly into the life and times of my loved ones
And here I'm just becoming a bitter old thing
I look for little sparkles that dart from certain dates
I want it to be Halloween, then my Birthday
I don't even care about Thanksgiving since I'll be entirely alone
And Christmas break, most of all.
All I can do with myself is compare what I am to gruesome things
It isn't self deprecation
It's just truth
With out my beloveds I am nothing
I am the soulless self portrait we admired in class
I have a glimmer of white light in my chest
But, like the one that baptized me, all it is is sadness shrouded in a layer of "everything's alright since it's supposed to be"
Literally all I've been able to do for the last hour is convulse
I nearly choked on my tears the other day
My appendages are cold
My blood has refused to flow
I think it demands happiness which, at this moment, I can't afford to muster
I suppose blood comes from the heart, which longs so deeply, that the blood won't leave it's beloved-
Since it knows how badly that affected my soul
And when the wizard gets to me, I'm asking for a smaller heart-
I emailed him about the situation, but I know he has more important children to care for
Since I know I am no longer a child
And my new year impending only cements that gruesome fact
I suppose I just don't know anymore
But trying is the point of life
So I must keep on trying
No comments:
Post a Comment