There is a cold embrace
That I must face
A desire to live and be well
That I must now quell
I simply can not escape this forest
For this dolt is just a tourist
A disruptive visitor
Looking for something simpler
Good riddance to dreams
They only ever tore at my seams
Pulling me away my stability
And reminding me of all the fear still in me
Stuttering validation
Shortness of breath
I am
Pressing our souls
Together like hands held
In content and contempt
Tenderly laying me to rest
Your smile is betrayed
By the pity in your countenance
My heart and eyes are heavy
I would rather leave
But I keep pushing
Goodbye to the man that could have been
I wish I had died in your place
Your heart was so much fuller than mine
Your smile came freely
And your arms were strengthened by the conviction
That your love was pure
But you are gone
And I am all that is left
Not enough for myself
Or anyone else
So, goodbye to the man should have been
Was once told that maybe no one could feel like me
Lately I have thought that I do not feel like me
The deep ridges of my fingertips
That I carved so recklessly
Have filled in
Every thing I touched knew
That my id was suffering
Now I am nothing
My tornadoes are ending
And the hurricanes recede
Wondered if the Sun would show
But these pregnant clouds will not leave
I can feel the pores of my skin pool
With their stagnant warm water
But is it not in stale ponds
Where the most harmful bacteria grow
I visited my friend recently
I could feel myself personifying it
Thinking life into every branch and leaf
It told me I looked well watered
I could not tell it that I had been crying
But I think it knew
I sat in it’s shade
Pressed the bark against my skull
Let it tell me about all it had seen
There is rebar sticking through the tree
I dare not ask
But I wonder if it had been stabbed
Or if it grew around it
Undeterred by obstacles
I am not sure if I can do this any more
And at my lowest a memory reminds me
Of a time from long before
Cruelly corrupted by my coddled entropy
My wicked hands drum up a devil
Whose eyes are purple and green
Gifts outstretched and ready to revel
Upon this gruesome scene
Whether it be poisoned water
Or a piece of cold rounded lead
In an old colt revolver
I come back to rather being dead
Because I am
Way more comfortable in pain
And all this “growth” is a scam
Synthetic hope to shoot in my veins
I keep tricking people into a belief
That my tomorrow is guaranteed
But I am a liar and a thief
Robbing their trust for my needs
Whether it be injection or a gun
In the end my body will burn
I am ready for this to be done
I am ready to rest in my urn
Think in your minds eye the person or place you would most like to see when it all begins to recede. The universe stops expanding and starts a hasty retreat. The Sun swells with immense melancholic pride to face its approaching demise and its light bloodies the sky and drowns out our cries. As that silence sweeps over us with whom would you find the most peace?
Right now I could not think of a single person who would pick me. Any face that I can conjure would rather be with another and I could not fault a single one. So I think I would pick my dog and hope that she would do me the favor and stay at my side. I would wrap my arms around her and put my head into her shoulder so that I could not see in her eyes where she would rather be.
I often have to say out loud “Don’t hurt yourself.” in the middle of making a decision that will harm me in order to stop. It feels like I am walking in on someone else in my body. I am both invader and the invaded. I will be in control and out of it. I am present and yet after telling myself out loud to stop I am more present than I had been just before. Maybe I am the stranger in my body and the voice that says to stop isn’t mine.
I can not even say for sure if other people feel this way. My first thought is that this is not an unusual experience and that I am, in the drama of my mental state, making it more than it is. However I could very well be in flux. Constantly phasing between self-love and self-hatred. I can only speak to my own experience and even then barely.
I want to say that I am doing better and it not feel like I am lying.
I could be anything you need
Except for good company
My heart’s a lonely ghoul
With nothing to do
So it just haunts your time
Nursing a bitter wine
Let me tell you a secret
Swear that you’ll speak it
Memories hurt the deepest
Self love or don’t love at all
They’re temporary
Stand alone or fall apart
Miss nothing or miss it all
Mourn the idea
And you’ll never recover
I don’t hold things sacred often. But I drive by this tree everyday. Seeing it in the morning and in the evening used to be a point of shame for me. This tree is a five minute walk from my house. One year ago I walked out to this tree and I sat underneath it with my gun for several hours. I cried and screamed and was the closest I had ever been to commiting suicide. I had only loaded a single round into the magazine and when it felt like my head was splitting open I shot the gun into the ground and threw up. I voluntarily gave the gun to a close friend for until I’m healthier. Back then the grass was overgrown, there were pieces of rebar and the tree was bare from the cold weather. It’s now well kept as they are planning to sell the land. The last few weeks driving by this tree has been a comfort. It’s now a marker that I have had 365 victories in a row. I have been if only in this one aspect of my life successful. I don’t normally condone the marking of trees and stuff since they’re living but I made a small exception. This tree is sacred to me because I live. I don’t have a bright follow up message but I’m alive today and I’m thankful for that.
From another angle
I might not have been a monster
Foaming tides speak candidly
That I ebb and flow just beneath sanity
A tab of salt on a parched tongue
Pull my insides up and out
I don’t belong here
Beyond the veil of melancholy
I should have asked for help
Retching on the hands of demons crawling their way out
My tongue is eaten away as I try to scream
Hopefully the nausea passes
And the tears dry soon
So I might look again with renewed clarity
Maybe this time I won’t see a monster
Callous conversation quick to categorize the case closed on my capricious character
But I can see the monsters tumbling from my eyes
Wet and shivering backs rise out of my tears
Their sinewy emaciated skin revealing the lack of fulfillment
Fingertips like hooks reach for my sleep
They never seem satiated
Maybe if I died they’d be content
But I wonder if they’d just float along the waves of grief
Laying their eggs into the people I love
An invasive species of sorrrow
Hope these pills open me up
To a more pleasant breath
I’m all fucked up
My dog has been sleeping on my legs lately
Like she’s keeping my soul anchored to my body
Tell the people close to me to be alert
I might have an adverse reaction
Keep telling myself it’ll be okay
But I’m so afraid of Falls now
How do I get up
If I’m still prone from the last drop
I hated hearing that I wasn’t making it up
I held hope that I was just dramatic
That I was just full of fabrications
But I’m a tad bit more than a little crazy
Just shy of killing myself
Because even in suicidal tendencies I’m a half-ass
There’s a stigma tied to my symptoms I’m told
It’s all very well defined and nothing to be ashamed of
They say I might feel worse and to taper off
But if it means commitment I’ll just double down
I’d rather feel sure about death than keep living like this
You’re so sweet
But so was she
And look what I did
You’d be another casualty
Must set you free
Must take responsibility
Because I can’t love you
You’re so sweet
But so was she
And look how she did me
You’ll easily forget
I’m sure you see
The lack of value in me
Because no one could love me
You’re so sweet
That I wish I was better
But you deserve more
I’ll never do right by you
And I can’t waste your time
Thank you for trying
But I don’t love me
How Hope Was Lost 