Poem things

Unintended Pain

Your heart wasn’t worth breaking,

If I’m not mistaken,

I played and I changed and I stayed,

And I made as much as I could,

To withstand all that we should,

But I failed and I failed and I failed.

To commit to the consequences,

To believe in things that mattered,

Rather I continued to dismantle,

Ever foundation that had their chances,

To withstand the demand,

Of my poor choices,

Turned out I turned our feelings into noises.

I’m sorry for never knowing what was next,

Making moments turn to demons,

And letting my ignorance be at its best.

I never meant to break your heart,

I never meant to fail right from the start,

The pain you still likely feel is as real,

As every emotion that I still try to kill.

I’m consumed by the fact that I will,

Forever and always just be this moment,

That you never should have had to feel.

My intentions were faltered,

I can’t blame it on age,

Inexperience,

Lack of understanding,

Or rage.

I need to accept that it was my simple ways,

Inability to read you and help your bad days.

On top of the changes that I should have made.

At this point it’s worthless,

To apologize or wait,

For retribution,

Confusion,

Or a chance to close space.

Just know that I never meant to,

Cause you this pain.

SF- 1-14-19

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Poem things

Substance Abuse

Always searching,
Always learning,
Always lurking,
For a purpose,
To propose a little interest,
Maybe invest.
In more than rocks and incense,
My spirituality had its limits,
Still I seek to be permissive,
Do you get this?
I conceptualize complete control,
While working towards freedom for my soul,
I seek a fortunate future,
While never setting any goals,
It’s a complicated role,
And I’m willing to take the toll.

This longing has got to go,
It is always,
One more,
Two lines,
Being blind,
To restrictions,
Moderations,
Yet my conscious seems to believe it’s,
All part of a bigger picture to believe in,
As my memories start to bleed thin,
I realize all of this,
Is just one singular moment of bliss,
Something I’ll soon start to miss,
When the melody sings,
And everything settles into what it seems,
No matter what type of depression,
Is bursting from these seams.

SF-1-14-19

Poem things

Succubus


They say ignorance is bliss,
So why as I go mindless?
Is it her whispers that I miss,
Her tricks,
Her wits.
I can sit with this.
But I cant seem to forget,
That I knew she had my heart,
From the first day that we met.

Stolen is how it seems,
Because it has never been my choice,
No matter how loud I turn up the noise,
She still roams in all of my dreams,
Turns on and off my emotions,
And plays with my heart strings,
But she’s nowhere to be seen.
Nowhere but inside my mind now it seems.

Forsaken me is what she’s done,
I started a battle I could never have won.
The parasitic after effects,
From a love that felt as hot as the sun,
Will feed off of me,
Just like the succubus that she was.
Funny how I still believe it’s love.


SF- 12-22-18

Poem things, Rants and Thoughts

Problems


I see that everyone has problems,

That’s not the problem, see,

How am I supposed to feel sympathetically,

When I’m involved with a blinding,

Overwhelming consistency,

Of underwhelming contingencies.

Oh it’s easy, “get therapy”,

As if paying for help is worth more than a friend who will listen for free.

Who the hell wants to listen to me,

Everyone has problems,

That’s not the problem, see,

I try to imagine my mind living happily,

But it’s just stays still in progression,

And runs wild through regressions.

So what’s the point in another session,

If I will have nothing to mention.

Everyone has problems,

That’s not the problem, see,

I can’t make every conversation about me,

Everyone has an issue to share,

Or a memory to bear,

And in those moments we truly can care.

Yet it’s the time spent alone,

That makes life feel completely unfair.

If only we had a way to feel a little less scared.


SF – written on Dec. 18th, 2018 @ 4:30 p.m.

Poem things, Rants and Thoughts

6 feet deep

I watched my sister mourn an ex that over dosed,
My father cry when his own mother croaked,
Watched my mother too when her father died after loosing the woman that he loved the most,
I also lost a sister to epilepsy, that shit is fucked up,
She’s was all alone, found naked in her bath tub.
Before all that I lost an uncle that would change my mom forever,
Loosing her brother first when she thought she’d never,
Ever have to spread his ashes farther than his love had casted.
I’m just reacting to the retracting of my memories.
So many memories of all of those who were meant to be,
Alive right now even though there are no remedies,
For the pain of loss and death that has forsaken me.
Just let me replace the bodies that were taken all too soon,
Let me be the face up in that bright old moon.
Looking down upon all of those who have been hurting too.
Those thinking about the ones they’ve lost,
Thinking about the memories you’ve tried to toss,
While search for a simple way to smile,
Maybe if we fake it our cheeks might hold up a while,
Get us down that god damn road another meaningless mile.
While acting wild and riled up to take a crack at happiness,
But if we’re redirecting our minds away from
death and sadness,
Id rather slip and fall into a pit of madness,
Loose my faith in life and love,
Like a dirty rotten mattress,
With a mistress that’s been laughed at.
Because,
All these deaths are haunting me,
As I think it should be me,
6 feet underneath the dirt below my knees.

SF – written on December 17th, 2018 @ 10 a.m.

Poem things

Gasping


My heart keeps beating,

But no longer for me,

It beats for all of thee,

People who say my death,

Would cause them misery.

I live for the need,

Of feeling what I hope to be,

Is closer than the horrors in my history,

I’m afraid I am no longer free,

I’m held down by my roots,

That extend down from my family tree,

I have no “Me”,

Just a visionary’s sculpture,

Of what they can see,

A creation for someone else’s glee.

Like I’m living but not alive,

So far away from life,

That I forgot what it’s like,

To be motivated,

Concentrated,

Or meditative,

But yet I’d say it’s just complicated,

I can not take this,

No longer for no reason,

I have to keep on believing,

That by keeping on,

I can keep on dreaming,

That this pain won’t last,

And this change will pass,

I can master my bad habits,

Then change my path,

After all it’s but a matter of fact,

By staying conscious for them,

I can feel freedom again,

Maybe enjoy some friends,

Or create new ends,

By the end of this poem,

Maybe this pain will mend.


NV. – written on September 17th, 2018

Poem things

Systematic


Systematic psychedelics,

Do you know your trippin’

Take another tab,

Now the feelin’ starts to slip in,

Do you need a breather,

Cause the feelings getting clearer,

If you look for limbo,

Then you’ll probably start to see fear,

Down a little path,

To the horrors of your past,

When you took that little tab,

Did you think to just relax,

Now you relapsed,

And the mind has left it’s path,

Can’t you do the math,

This part simply will not last,

If you have the strength to take it back,

This trip could be a blast,

That’s a fact.

Look around,

See the sounds,

Let your mind make its rounds,

Coming back to where we found,

A little little peace in the now,

Because we know there’s no way out,

From our little streams of doubt,

When the mind is filled with clouds,

And our thoughts are far too loud,

All we need is to feel proud,

Maybe regal,

Like in dreams,

For the moment,

Let it be,

Let your trip simply free,

Of commotion and your needs,

Won’t you please?

Let it be,

As you read these thoughts with me,

Through the clouds,

Now you see,

That darkness isn’t meant to be,

When you trip,

It’s meant for glee,

Introspection,

Maybe feeling more complete,

Not letting ourselves be beat,

By a mind to powerfully,

Open to the ability,

To be threatened by our “Me”.


SF. – written sometime in June or July of 2018.

Poem things

Release


Reputations,
Repetitions,
Resolutions,
All seeming unlikely,
I am trying to quit my hiding,
Even though through the lying,
Those better parts of me have begun dying.


Cycles,
Circles,
Certain,
That I can’t keep up with my reason,
It is nothing less than feeble,
These attempts to try free up,
A set of different habits that will help in finding feeling.


Meaning,
Mourning,
Mending,
No where near enough of my issues,
They pile up to a point I cannot see through,
I’m sure you’ve felt this same truth,
As if everyone is out to get you.


Hiding,
Hurting,
Hating,
Hollowed formations in my character,
As my motivations take their turns,
I feel all my emotions as they burn,
Into what i lost while seeing her.


Tested,
Tainted,
Torment,
Treating my problems like a door mat,
Easily walked over and hardly looked at,
While never getting used to that,
It has made more sense than fixing them.


NV. Written on September 10th, 2018 started @ 6:30 a.m. finished @ 7:45 a.m.

Poem things, Rants and Thoughts

Rope


This is to all you privileged,

Self righteous faceless fuckers,

Never have known seldomness,

Never have had a helpless mother.

Or an unsuccessful father,

From a family that’s a bother,

Without money for our problems.

We never had a way to stop them,

Payments after payments,

Do you know what day to day is?


They all say “I’m so alone”,

Yet you sit and stare straight at your phones,

Full of people that you chose,

Nah, you don’t even fucking know,

I bet they’ve never been this low.

Take a look at all my limbs,

All you’ll see are scars and broken bones.

From where I have had to go,

The limits of my patience,

And all the damage I now know.


You don’t wanna know what’s it’s like,

To have to re erase your soul,

Over and over again,

Changing faces as you go,

Never knowing who you’ve been,

Who you should be,

Or if you’ll ever have some kin.

Always feeling unimportant,

And as if you’ll never quite fit in.

If only I could find my ending,

But that’s simply where it will all begin.


Now I hear everyone may be feeling insane,

Still they all know growth and gains,

Never felt full of real sick shame,

Still it’s my kind of people who get the blame,

We may all have a heritage,

But some of us have no names.

No fortune and no fame,

Less opportunistic change,

More redirected rage,

Our society is nothing more than a corporately constructed cage.

Built on laws and governments that are simply meant to take,

All its citizens hopes and dreams,

Monetary values and everything in between.


I bet all of you have had some help,

Probably never really hurt,

Never screamed and never yelled,

For more than materials or your wealth,

Always had a sense of love,

From any one of the beings up above,

Yeah, they’ve never had it rough.

Always had just enough.

What happens when hope takes off its gloves,

Smacks you right across your face,

And asks, “how’s it feel to forget love, never have anything to dream of?”


Have you ever actually been homeless,

Or hopeless,

Remotely contained,

Or throat less,

Had no voice to portray,

Or not felt,

But actually been worthless?

I was told life is game,

That makes me feel lifeless.

As if it’s something to be tamed,

What a joke,

It’s meant for those rich,

And those famed.


So when you sit there,

Do nothing but assume,

As if you could even have a clue,

Don’t begin to think you will understand,

Any of the feelings that I’ve been through,

Or what I have had to do.

Everybody’s life is little different,

And I wish that mine would just end soon.

Take me out of the gutters that I’ve construed.

Away from the problems that I’ve been glued to,

And all the situations that I can’t seem to get through,

Unlike the drugs and alcohol that I so habitually find ways to consume,

As if they can settle my symptoms,

And make my mind feel new,

As if I can drunkenly just pick and choose,

Motivations and places to not be riddled the fool,

This life it just gets to me,

So now I’ll enter the rope.


SF – written between August 10th and September 4th, 2018

Poem things, Rants and Thoughts

Do or Die


What do we do,

When we recognize our failures,

Sink into the un true,

And see all of our stale years?

People say to persevere,

Overcome the problems,

That’s all I ever hear,

Yet still find no way to stop them.

Bad habits and reputations,

Digging holes and feeling useless,

Can become a situation,

Even if you never choose it.

What do we do,

When we become what we shouldn’t,

Forget so much too,

And recognize what we couldn’t?

Do we pick ourselves back up,

Follow through with all our dreams,

What happens when things get tough,

And depression is bursting out your seams?

I don’t know about you,

I can only speak for I,

But when it’s pain that you’ve been through,

Life becomes do or die.


NV. – written on 8-11-18