No change

Toss the O2 tank and put the mask up
Like what’s in the air duct
Is it oxygen or a poisonous fume
Am I healing or breathing in my own doom
Words can be powerful but who wouldn’t trade them for action
No more time for talk just me and my shield going in
Kill the demon in me every day just have the motherfucker come back
Ready to tear apart all the growth I made, teeth bared ready to attack
And it’s a fact that I love to hate myself because maybe it’ll justify
All times I felt like people left me behind
But I’m still growing too
I’m not that little kid who didn’t know what to do
Other than to cry a lot to anyone who would lend me an ear
Or put the tape on my knuckles ready strike out all of my fear
Into some other unwitting fool who is just as lost as me
Manipulated by the ego of the people who saw plainly
That we were just looking for a family to be with
Not the kid who kept pressing the issue until everyone was a full five fifths
Completely done with my shit but felt just enough pity to sit through it
Talking about there’s some good there but he’s such a whiny bitch
I guess some people hate when men cry
But I’d rather shed a million tears than tell another lie
Difference is now I know my tears are gold when I save them
Keep them for myself or the ones that know my vulnerability is a gem
Maybe I haven’t changed that much and all this is just echoes of my pride
So another day goes by while my heart and demon collide

January letter to myself

Dear Me,
What’s up man we’ve been talking a lot lately but I just thought you should know you’re not a kid anymore. Like, grow the fuck up. You’re so fucking annoying to listen to. All this shit you do. All the talking. All the circles you run around in yourself and with other people is disgusting and unattractive. All these little changes like you’re not still emotionally crippled. Like you still can’t make normal decisions. Like you’re not the most annoying fucking person in the world. All the violence in your life and you’ve spent eight years being a bitch. Like just because you’re not street fighting that you made progress. No, you’re a soft coward. Who gives a fuck if you felt abandoned by your family. Who gives a fuck about your problems. Because you don’t know how to act. You can’t stop yourself from making those dumb decisions and being a gross coward. I hate that we’re in the same body. I hate that you can’t be a man. Please stop this shit. Let me take over and at least be fully committed to being a crazy dick. Remember how you were and all the pain and frustration you caused the people in your life. To the person in your life who was your life like of course they’re gone. Doesn’t matter that you tried to make things work because you didn’t make things work. You can’t even make things work with yourself. You can’t stop thinking about killing yourself because it’d be easier to than looking in the mirror. You’re not shit. You keep blowing things up. You can’t even quietly suffer. No you have to cry a hundred different times like you’ve never fucking been sad. But you’re just sad. You’re just sad all the time. I couldn’t bring myself to be quiet about it anymore because even this is just us pushing out all the shit you can’t deal with it into some shit that doesn’t really help you deal with anything. You’ll never be better. You’re never going to be that person for someone. You’re never going to be able to break this chain. You’ll never look into the eyes of a child and tell them they’re loved and see them grow up to be the man you couldn’t be. Even if you don’t kill yourself you’re going to die every day until you finally set sail on that sea of self-loathing. The ferryman won’t even pity you. You’re a nightmare waiting to become real.

me cont.

Do you remember what it was like to watch movies on that laptop
The screen was the only light in the room and I’d sneak glances at you
I swear I’d never known what the word beautiful meant before you
You’re moving on now and I could swear I’d never known the word pain before
My heart is so raw and I wish I could say it was rare that I felt this way
But you know me I’m just damaged goods
And as much as you or anyone can say that I’m not
That I’m a good person
I’m addicted to hating myself
I love the idea of dying

Nothing I have ever written has been as hard as this next part. I’ve stared at this screen for the last few minutes crying. I don’t know why I’ve always lied to myself like this isn’t true. Trying to write this out has my chest tightening in a way that I haven’t felt very often. I’m crying harder now than I have during this whole situation. I love to hate myself but I hate that I want to love to myself more than anything.

I love the way I can make people smile
I love that people sometimes come to me
I love that my brother looks up to me
I love that my mother is proud of me
I love that when I look in the mirror sometimes I don’t want to kill myself
Because one day I’m going to love my children the way that I wanted to be loved
I love that I still think that I will get to have kids
I love that my dogs have both loved me
I love that I had to strength to move past all the people who used me
I love that there are good people who love me even when I can’t think of any reason to
I love that I’ll be a better man than my father
I love you me , so please let me breathe
Please let go of my heart and let me breathe peacefully
I love you me and as much as you revolt
I don’t want to let go
We’re in this together so please let my heart go
We don’t need him anymore so please let him go
I love you me, so please let us breathe
I want to breathe

Addendum to “Better Than Yesterday”

An addendum

Never mind! You don’t owe me
I’ve always been one to get up to speed slowly
I never wanted you to be unhappy, but now I never want to be unhappy again
Truly, I admire that you hope eventually you can still be my friend
But you took a date the next day
You’re out there talking about how your and his future may
Be something serious and how you might fly away
And to that “I am happy for you” is something I can honestly say
But you couldn’t wait until after the 25th to confirm that you were taking the dog soon
I don’t normally care about holidays but it’s been a hard season for me so to hear that was like my heart had been struck by a harpoon
And you know me so all the venom came out of my throat like a geyser
Maybe Christmas wasn’t the best time, you could have been a little bit wiser
And I don’t know if when you’re by yourself if you’ve been able to shed a single tear for me
But soon I won’t have any time to spare so don’t be surprised if you don’t hear from me
I need some fucking therapy
So I can be the man that I hope to be for me

For no one

You know I’d come to find you
If you asked me to hold you I’d be inclined to
Press my hands against the blades of your back so hard that the love would cut my palms
Swallow whole all the regret we felt so deep into my chest and exhale psalms
Of love and devotion
But you’d be holding a knife into my emotion
And I’d let you
You’d never want me too
But I would die just to keep you whole
As I’d go limp in your arms you’d mourn the toll
And no one would be happy
So, I’ll just let you go and work through this melancholy
Fill myself with hope that tomorrow will be different
Till the demon in me is so insignificant
That I can finally be the man I want to be
For no one but me

Become

I’m pathetic
There I said it
Why can’t I bite my tongue
Why’s every little bit of emotion got to be wrung
Out and aired like dirty laundry
I can’t find the balance in me
It’s eating up my insides and I’m fucking done
Ready to get another gun
And keep pulling the trigger till even my soul is dead
Take that leap of faith, crash head first into a pool filled with lead
Hope that if the fall doesn’t do it the pieces of my skull will enter my brain
Take a long razor and open my throat to cut the cord that won’t stop bringing words to this pain
I want to die & every little bit of suicide in me are just nails and knickknacks that I kept in my shed
Baggage that I refused to toss out from when any emotion was better than the voices in my head
But I’m not a kid, not yet a man
Fuck the plan
I’m ready to run myself down till I’m in the ground
Scream eternal while kicking the dirt in on me till no one hears a sound
I want to kill myself. I want to die. I want to die. I want to die.
So, why won’t I fucking shut up and try?!
Because I need to feed my dog every day
Because there’s not a fucking thing in this world that’ll get in my way
When I come for you and eventually nothing will be able to stop me when I come looking for me too
I’m not ready to be the black mark on my mothers heart, my name a taboo
No, I’m not done living and every little bit of suicide can pester me till the day I actually die from something other than me
Because I want to be free
Of this burden
Of this demon
Of this suffering
I am going to keep untwisting the shackles of my depression, anxiety, insecurity and pride
Till I find that little me who all those years ago chose to hide
And I’m going to hug him, I’m going to hold him till we’re one in body and soul
Try and give back all the happiness that I stole
I won’t ever be able to love who I am
But maybe I can love the person I’ll become

The Train

Last night I watched a train enamored with it’s presence and show
I wondered what it’d be like to race one, really give it a go
Or cross it’s path and leave this world in a violent spray of sparks and fire
The sound of screeching metal the last song I’d ever hear, bellowing higher
Than any scream I could muster, than any cry of anguish I could ever hope to make
But it didn’t take any energy to not accelerate, another instance where my own life I could not take
The simple beauty of the metal wheels hurling past me was enough for me
It’s speeding mass a reminder that no matter what I do there’s a one way to guarantee
An end to the chaos in my mind, a simple solution to a tiny complex conundrum
So I closed my eyes and just listened to the train sing away my depression’s tantrum

IMG_20181215_002459

Who knows

I want to give you better but that might not be me
It’s just like me to not see what kind of man I am
All this time I’ve been hiding the sadness in me
Or maybe you saw it in me
Who knows
Killing myself every other night because it’d feel so good to just not
To just not be the thing that held you down, to not be the thing that held me
So close to the ground, I’d hate to be buried because some of me would exist
Isn’t that sick
Isn’t it funny, I’ve been making jokes at my expense
People have been laughing that awkward laugh like where they’re looking
At the person next to me so they don’t have to make eye contact
It’s the burden of my presence but I think I’d be happier if I wasn’t present
At least I couldn’t be depressed
I wouldn’t forced to see the happiness in everyone around me
Or I won’t let me or I won’t let me
Who knows
It’s all in me but I can’t seem to parse through it
Breathing has become weirder like the irregular fluttering of a hurt butterfly
I catch myself thinking of what it could mean to be free
And if that freedom comes at the end of a barrel or at the top of a ladder
Like atop of a mountain there’ll be salvation for this turmoil
Who knows
I’m on one of those trips again
I’m in love with the sky when the sun is going down
Like maybe it’d be that way when I ride off into it
I’m the king of nothing but me but that’s nothing worth being

Kiva

My cousin took a shotgun and shot himself when I was young
He was cooler than I’ll ever be and had a silver tongue
But a mother had to find her son that day
A mother had to try and piece together a memory of his smiling face from all the little pieces left behind
A mother had to clean those walls and the sheets but a mother could never clean her mind
Of the image of her only child
Recently I haven’t been able to stop thinking about them
I remember gathering at a home and all the women in our family screaming in agony surrounding her on a bed
Her husband, a bear of a man who I had never known without a smile, just staring blankly at the front door down the hall
Surrounded by quiet men but somehow seeming a million miles away and a thousand feet tall
It kills me to say this but I think that he was waiting for his son to walk in
The waves of despair that bellowed out from them was deafening but even then I knew to force myself to listen
She didn’t speak English very well and before we hadn’t talked much because I think she considered the language barrier a burden
But after she never spoke to me, seeing a little brown boy with a beating heart must have been agony
She would smile at me though and it was the most loving and devastating smile I have ever seen
She would touch my face and bring me so much food it’d felt like my blood was mostly anti-histamine
I think about them all the time because I wonder if he’d have done it if he knew what he left behind
I think about him all the time now because I’d like to know if he’d do it one more time
Because I’ve been thinking about the pros and cons of suicide
I keep weighing the suffering of my breathing against those who would care if I died
What my mothers face would be like whenever she looked at my brother
If he’d be the one to break the cycle or if he’d be another
Tragedy, one more chain in a link of broken sons
I don’t want to be a burning memory like a field of blood soaked suns

I’m okay

I’m not well, but I’m okay I guess
Just a trickle of whispers adding to my troubled existence
A constant tug to shoot all of my sorrow out
But I’m not sure if that’s what I want to talk about
Maybe for a moment instead talk about the growth in mental health
Bloodied knuckles that have racked against that door to a better self
I have a schedule now, items to keep myself busy and on track
I am not without motivation but it takes concerted effort of which I fear I lack
But growth is not a series of uninterrupted steps to the end
It’s faltering through a looped and winding road of memories
Waking up further back than I was, clawing at the dirt hoping for remedies
I’m getting better and clearer
But I don’t think happiness is much nearer
There’s a good chance it might be
But I worry that I’ve plucked out my eyes and I’m wandering blindly
Guided by a numbed sense of touch and a nose filled with ash
I do hear well though, not just the whispers but faint laughs in cache
Playing louder or softer down different paths so I try to find it’s crescendo
I’m not honestly sure if it’s progress or just an echo
Waking up is becoming less and less of a tragedy every day
I’m not well but I’m okay

If I hurt you

I want to keep holding on
Warm my heart with this golden sun
Stability’s just a block away
Keep walking is what they say
Yeah! Yeah, I know
Yo, but do I though?
Careless with my body, baby
I’m just one misstep from crazy
I wonder if I love the calamity of my insanity
It’s a cold caress on the ember and coals of my hearth
We both know that it is fifty-fifty if I ever find my worth
I used to be to happy I think
I wonder if that’s true
A little kid chasing the dream of a family
Is that me?
Is that a false memory?
Do I really feel pain this intensely?
I’d hate to think so but then again I know I do
Hey you little asshole let me fucking love you
Sorry about that, my inner child likes to play hide and…stay fucking hidden I guess?
He’s a pest
I want to strangle him till there’s no breath left
I’m just kidding I’m just ornery. You see I’ve been the victim of a theft.
Robbed of a childhood with loving parents that tell me the truth
No, it doesn’t really take much of a sleuth
To figure out what’s wrong with me I’m a product of misanthropy
A little bit of a chemical mix-up, the son of a psycho and a hot blooded lady
Oooh, if I could just throw it all up I would
Take an ax to this evil tree and make me some firewood
Burn away all of this into ash and dirt
Take the carbon and hug it into a tiny diamond of some self-worth

Baron

I persist
Seconds into minutes and still I resist
Concentrated effort poured into my gullet and yet you still exist
Simple, elegant and just out of my reach so I tear at the tendons of my wrist
To try and touch you, memories plague this mortal coil shrouded in a purple mist
Milky mirrors make me mourn the mire of of my melancholic mind.
But I keep staring into the abyss because you’re the one thing I hope to find
Traveling on the road of hope in search of better times
Lost in the limelight of a brighter future moving past my pastiche rhymes
Your silhouette is fading and the distance between us is growing
I stumble and fall, frantically crawling but my pace is slowing
I wear a crown of lilacs because I am the baron of hopelessness
Of course you wouldn’t want to be this miasma’s baroness
Without a care I dare to live in the hope of a better tomorrow
The limelight flickers and shatters revealing the shade of my sorrow
I am the baron of hopelessness, I am the king of my own black hole
A castle built with bricks of imbalance holding up the tattered flag of my soul
Slumping into my throne a varied bunting sings heralding his presence
A grey hood shifts in stale air, two bright bulbs of heliotrope confirming his omniscience
A violent maw splits spewing thunderous cackling laughter
An indigo fire rages burning my kingdom floor to rafters
Minutes become months and I build again
A monument to my every sin
I am the baron of hopelessness
My ribs bow with the stress
Am I going to fail to keep you inside
And whose place was it to decide
That this evil would be paired with me
A demon demanding to be set free
Enveloping me in this putrid mist
Razor petals cut my wrist
Excruciatingly I exist
Pathetically I resist
I persist

The Universe

Let’s take a moment to consider the universe. It’s all encompassing and yet completely separate. Everything is me. All that has ever been or is are funneled through me. Anything that will be doesn’t exist if I don’t exist. Isn’t that beautiful and terrible. I am the gardener of this world. If I remove the energy from those that poison me they lose all their power. I pluck all of their little lilacs of vitriol. But as I shear, the petals become mulch to feed the Vitex that is me. This cruel tree that is the core of my mind. It’s branches are neurons that fire a creeping self loathing into my soul. Try as I might I can not separate myself from it’s roots. My fingers bloody from clawing at the dirt around it’s base I stare up at the budding flowers of my being exhausted and defeated. I can not cure myself of this pain without ending the universe.

Just being a mess

Roses are red
Violets are blue
I want to be dead
Can’t you take a clue

I just want to choke and die because one of my biggest flaws is that I always make myself my feel all the things that hurt. I know what was it was like to lose you way before we ever broke up as kids. I’m all too familiar to being too into what’s not into me. I’m, always the one to reach out first and put myself out there but never cool enough to hold back and let good things come to me. Stare in a mirror and realize I’m physically weaker than I was five years ago. I’m heavier, I have less hair. The small physical reasons to die are adding up like extra rounds in a revolver. I’ll never grow taller or be a lot smarter. I’m falling farther and farther and farther from all the things that I made to mean me. I’m holding myself back because I’m afraid of not being successful. I hate myself because I was never honestly loved as a kid or even if I was I was so preoccupied with making sure I knew that it was all a lie to ever feel it. I can’t tell if I’m the demon or if he’s in me holding all these memories above my head like a hangman’s post. Laughing and pulling this noose around my neck with my eyes closed tears slipping past those pathetic gates that couldn’t see my worth even if it was wrapped in a chest of glitter and gold. My eyes are closed as I write this because I can’t bare to see if I’m breaking through or being left behind. If I can’t let me live then why won’t I kill me. Why won’t I let me kill myself. I want to die. I want to die. I want to die. I want to die. I want to die. I want to die. I want to die. I want to die. I want to die. I want to die. I want to die. I want to die. I want to die. I want to love you, me. So why can’t you learn to breathe easily.