Believing in me

I think I am done, but I am not sure how to be. I wasted so much time trying that giving up almost seems like a relief. Still, something is holding me back. I think it has something to do with my memories. Nothing in my past, but current events that haunt me. Preventing me from taking that final step.

I think I am done, but I am not sure how to believe. There is a small part of me that feels something close to relief. As though a big weight has been removed from my shoulders. I can breathe so easily and yet…those final steps are still out of reach.

Tasteless

A word spoken into exsitance has the power to tear me down but I can’t let it. I know it would be better to take it back but I lost the flavor and now can remember what it was like before. This word gives meaning when there wasn’t any. Bringing to life things that I should have just let die but I can’t. It is a curse to go back and give it away. Cracks appear on my mind because I decided to trust this broken word with a broken meaning. Leaving me spinning. Telling tall tales about how I have courage to defeat my own creation. But I guess I am paitent.

I guess I am just that paitent.

A church of Echos

Why is no one listening to me

Screams the child in the church pew

Grandfathers hand down their top

And grandmothers over their mouth

Mom and dad standing at the opposite ends

Trying not to listen to the shouts

But that is not what gave the room pause

Over there sits a little boy with a gun in his lap

And rewards on his jacket

Drawing up a dagger and slicing into a peer

Color coded lettering screaming

Why is no one listening

But move the camera preacher man

Over there you’ll see

A girl squating over pill bottles chocking them down with ease

Shitting out insta likes

As the wolves paw at her feet

The shacking of the pills bottles gives a signal

As hands reach to spread her knees

Why is no one listening to me

Down the asle lies a bible

Covered in well wishes and kisses

Thumbs up with well intentions

It holds the congregations attention

As the preacher man walks by

with gleam in his eye

Giving twisted smile to the lost boys

And waving at the confused girls

Praising the mothers and fathers

Only to step past the blooded child

A Workplace Tango

“I should put a bell around you” I say as you join me in the break room.

But you just smirk and shake your head

Cautiously working your way around where I stand.

I can see my words bother you.

Well they bother me too

Do you know how much courage it took me to admit such weakness

That your very sudden appearance leaves me shaking.

You can try as you might to convince me you are not the type

But I can’t, no I can’t

Because to me you are every guy.

You are him

The one who lied to me and treated me as if I committed the greatest sin

Saying no was my saving grace but it was thrown into my face

Over and over again

Forced by people who leave all because They did not believe.

A liars only excuse was love because I was never enough

“I should put a bell around you” I whisper as a hold my arms close to my chest

Hiding the fact that I am losing my breath

My chest is hurting and my heart won’t stop

I can see your shaken because you do not understand

But It is ok

Because Neither do I

A little taste of something

Hate

This comes the easiest to me. I know it like an old friend.

One that never left despite the many arguments. It festers inside of me growing in the places that love was never able to reach. Still, this is not the easiest for me to admit. I do not like feeling this way no matter how much it comforts me in the end. I think it is because it focuses me.

I am not alone when I am in pain.

If I share it with others there is a chance it will go away.

I have been accused of wallowing in my own self pity

I guess that is based on some truth.

I do not want it to end…it can’t.

I can tell them I hate them though it may take me some time to do so. I love the feeling of disgust. I love how my blood boils when I see them. Hearing their name gives me such a delicious feeling and I am not sure if I want it to stop.

Hate

I know this feeling like a long lost friend.

It is something that stood by my side when everything else had gone. Even now I sit in it. Letting it fester inside of me, reminding me of things best left in the past. I need it to survive because without it…I might as well be dead.