Chapter: An old couch to park my ass: Familiar Writings
Harmony
Deep inside a soul tear falls
Ravenous creatures tear me apart
I’m not good enough and I don’t know why;
She’s leaving me and it makes me cry.
Baby, baby, please don’t go
I love you so.
I cry, as slowly you die, how can you just leave me alone?
As your life force dwindles, my sorrow kindles
Memories of my love will forever be
With every heartbeat, and every breath I take.
Tiger, Tiger burning bright walking creature of the night eats the flesh of my skin drinking the blood of my sin.
Fairy winkles
Crying eyes, endless skies
Puddles growing on my cheeks
I stand alone skin and bone
Cloths falling
Blood soaked wet
I am so still
My demons kill
Covered will
Drains my body of life.
Bondage
Wild monkey sex
I pin him down
But what’s wrong with me?
Something always in the back of my mind
What is this je nais se qois?
Why can’t I fully embody this passionate
moment?
Five years of scrupulous beatings and rape!
Bastard! Bastard!
How can you have done this to me?
I look to my lover
As we passionately engage in sex
I love him and yet I slowly feel myself drifting into another place.
Prisoner! Mind! Lost! Yet so very wanting to be there for every moment with my beloved.
Homme du monde – hardly! I wear the chains around here.
Mental. Mental. Mental. Internal bondage.
Heat
You left me so cold my valued friend
I rock I cry into a drunken lullaby.
Why baby, why?
Like a water bird I cross to the shore
But I cannot find you there any more
I seek you my comforting friend
But you soothsayer have left me cold in the end.
Freedom Rings
A butterfly floats through my open door.
Can it be true—will I fly away on these
wings of possibility?
My mind has ventured far beyond
this realm—
whereas my body is a prisoner in
this room.
What would I do if I were free—
Free from this grasp of tyranny?
I walk slowly— I’d always thought
I’d run,
But where will I go, when this day
is done?
Heart and Fear
The coach screams loud
into my face;
for me quitting is the
greatest race.
Do I do or do I fear?
Is the answer some-
where near?
Is this life or just a game?
What am I after?
Fortune?
Or just some fame?
Fear of failure;
joy of success!
What am I looking for
in all of this mess?
The coach screams again:
Oh, what do I do?
Is it honorable to compete
versus you?
Winners heart; body’s here too;
Yet I still do not know what to do.
Do I do, or do I fear?
All this confusion, yet the
answer’s still here.
Fear of pain is not enough;
Fear of loss is so tuff!
Who am I?
Am I a follower? Or a leader?
Oh lord please tell me,
Do I do, or do I fear?
Extrano hado
The sun begins to rise,
life and I begin a compromise.
The moon is just about to leave,
My soul falls victim to the pain I must retrieve.
I now wonder why I write this poem;
I sit here alone, in the comforts of home;
Is this a fortune being foretold?
Am I destined to live a life so virtually cold?
I ask myself why?
Is there truly a pain lurking inside?
I know not why? I ask myself why? Oh why?
Desperado
Dwelling in a world of fear,
Shedding another hopeless tear.
Surrounded by death we calmly sigh;
Our only refuge is to die.
We are the children of the night;
Fire and ice within us fight.
With nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide;
There’s no one in which we may confide.
Lingering in this pointless hate;
We live fearless of our fate.
Always running, never free;
This world offers no hope for me.
Dreamer:
I dwell in my own lonely world of dream, for I am the quiet one. I was the master of disguising my emotions until now. I have allowed this rage to build inside of me, and perhaps that is why I know rock upon the verge of madness. No longer in control, I find myself dreaming of …revenge!
The production
My life is a satirical game.
A motley drama continuously playing.
I dwell on a chessboard called chaos.
Always being, but never comprehending why.
Fatuous existence inevitably condemns… my fate.
Verge of madness
Blatant desire lives within my eyes;
Love is the tool of my demise.
I am the victim of your smile;
Our love is trapped in an endless trial.
Forbidden feelings cause pointless pain;
Without you my love,
I shall go insane.
“Choices”
A tormented is trapped in a satirical drama; life. The tempest of tyranny attacks her mind. She is the wanderer, searching for peace. There is virility in her desire to search, but a streak of ignorance attacks her impeccable thought when she acts upon it. She attempts to scratch the gilded surface of hypocrisy. However, with her battle for truth she is faced with the question is she, herself, the hypocrite in assuming there is such a thing. The wanderer is alone, lost and confused. She wishes to remove herself from society for maybe then her worries will cease.
She goes to a desolate place, or at least a place where technically she’s alone. Much to her dismay, you cannot escape the voices of your mind simply by withdrawing to solitude. With a drink of water and a swallow, she finds her terror, has trapped her in a state of constant confusion. She lies down and drifts off to an eternal slumber.
On the sixth floor of a New York City apartment building at around 8:00 am, a mother will open the door to her daughters room to find her teenage girl in a sleep that she will never awake. The child has taken a pill of “peace”. The mother breaks down not understanding what she could have done wrong or why she did not notice “signs”. Crazed by this the mother can no longer function.
Within her slumber, the wanderer could not explain to her beloved the reasons why she did what she did (as if that mattered). Therefore, in her journey for peace the wanderer destroyed at least two lives with a single choice.
Although the mother could not have answered all of her baby’s questions, she could have tried to help, had she had the chance. The wanderer made the choice now she’ll suffer the voices for the duration of her life.
However, the mother was not so lucky. Her madness was the result of a choice made by her child, whom she loved, with all her heart. The moral, the choices that we make in life do not only directly effect our own lives but also the lives of others. When we make a serious action, it should be one that is the result of careful consideration. The things that we do influence not only the people directly involved, but also the people that we care about. Mental illness is treatable, suicide isn’t!
Lab Rat
From my eye there falls a tear;
A memory of my childhood fear.
Trapped in an impish phase;
Running through an endless maze.
Corruption’s of thought form walls of shame;
The passage ways grow from
foolish blame.
The more I run the deeper into
nothingness I am.
I am doomed to the labyrinth
of my mind;
There is no exit for me to
find.
Once again I begin to cry;
For within these walls I’m
destined to die.
The comedy
From death I receive a solemn smile;
Destiny escorts me down the isle.
Trapped in a stereotypical world;
I hide in my corner crouched and curled.
Oh how I long for my melancholy friends to take me away;
Death is the only one that can offer me relief today.
Simplicity
the smell of fear;
the taste of rage;
the putrid fragrance of a soul-sent tear;
the bitter anger of being trapped in a cage;
the odor of knowledge that you’re a mortal mere;
the realization that your life is just another page; (if that)
the scent of loosing everything that you hold (so) dear;
the metallic taste of society’s gauge;
the rotten smell demonstrating the end is near;
the flavor of rotted fruit, the acknowledgment of age;
death is the smell of the emotion, called fear.
death is the taste of emotional rage.
Dreams of cursing literature
Untitled:
Death-bound authors swarm through my head;
Corpses of the long since dead.
And how do I escape the voices of my mind?
There is no peace, I, a sacrificial lease, for me to find.
Whispers of their writings are said into my ear;
Then they come and go, mysterious foe, friends forever fear.
Chapter: A recliner or sinking into the Depths of Sorrow (Crazy Years)
1) Weird night last night. Couldn’t sleep; couldn’t get up, but just couldn’t sleep. I just laid there alone with my thoughts. At first there was blankness, nothingness; I just laid there and stared off into space.
Despair was the only thing I felt, hopelessness. Then, once again, the irrational thought arose that my room was dirty, no filthy. I couldn’t shake the feeling that: “What if someone walked in here right now. What would they think? My room must look like a disaster area with the bed unmade (yes the one I’m in). Gross messes are everywhere; the carpet, my closets, and my clothes and books must
be out of order. These thoughts kept rushing through me raising my anxiety, my sense of worthlessness, disorder, and general inadequacy.
I know, I know, I’m nuts! But you try spending 8 hours with the same repetitive thoughts plaguing your mind. I thought of my suicide attempts and why they failed. This made me feel more sorrow. Can you imagine being such a failure that you can’t even achieve dying? I mean something that everyone does, you can’t even succeed in doing--when you tried as hard as I did? I pondered briefly why I tried to kill myself some of those times--to tell you the truth I really don’t know why!
Life’s funny f!@#ed up really. So much of my being is constant change (moods, thoughts, feelings, actions) and yet he’s still here. The pain, the blame (it’s all my fault you know) the noisemaker never leaves me alone, not really. He’s like a disease cursing me, plaguing me--and yet can I, do I leave? No. I hate noise, it hurts my head!
2) For someone who was confident that they had faced the absolute worst that life had thrown at her, I must look pretty strange--shocked-- right now. I was wrong; there is something worse than everything I’ve been through thus far. What is it you ask? To lose control completely, no, not to someone else, but to an unseen, uncontrollable force within. It’s the most hideous feeling in the world; not when it’s happening but, after when you realize that it has indeed happened.
I was purifying my room because it seemed a mess and I had felt strange all day; but, I don’t know what actually triggered the episode. You know when they say “when it rains it pours”…I couldn’t agree more. I gave in to a tiny gust of wind and climbed the stairs to do my ritualistic cleaning . I had forgotten the vacuum so I ran back downstairs to grab it quickly. For whatever reason I had the persistent thought cutting up pictures of eyes and monsters and death.
I then glued them to my carpet’s bottom. After that I took brown paper bags and stapled them and duct taped them to my floor. After that I proceeded to tape plastic the full length of my floor and up the corners of the floor/wall. Why? Don’t ask me! I don’t really know why, something just drove me to do it! I believed that this would ward off ladybugs and maggots (weird!).
I couldn’t stop myself. I wanted to stop, I just couldn’t I was driven! That gust of wind that I originally submitted to became a hurricane in a matter of minutes. Something just wasn’t clicking right couldn’t be more true.
3) What does she want to hear? That I got
Why is it that I’m so much better at self-destructing than self-motivating? I’m so tired I can barely keep my eyes open. I just don’t care, nothing really matters anymore to me. They take and I need something permanent to hold on to--a reminder engraved…
4) Scales of hurt are shimmering, reflecting the light. Dark--cast in black on the inside--there is nothing that can penetrate my exterior walls (except death). I am a fish swimming alone in the sea of obliteration--oblivion. I shall vanquish these tears--this dull life. It’s high time that I win this battle, may death submit to my command (or rather I to hers) may I fade into indistinctiveness, and become a meal of worms. I will hope failure does not strike me again tonight!
I swear that there was divine intervention (as if such a thing existed) has struck. What the heck? Why am I such a failure? What the hell is wrong with me? Everyone dies why can’t I? Why? What is this resistance that still survives? I am beaten--my meaninglessness should not be prolonged. I’m a corpse, but for some damn reason I still have a pulse!
I’m burned! Pacing--I just do not understand! I don’t understand anything. There’s nothing left, yet here I am. Damn this body, why can’t it be weak and match what’s within? I’m not strong enough to crawl through life like this much longer--yet, I have no choice. Irritation--can’t sleep. Heart’s pounding, racing…please make the voices stop!
5)
Overwhelmed by stress, reaping my fate;
Trapped in a realm of continuous hate.
The silver-plated metal shines within the light;
Tears of red trickle down into my sight.
A creek surrounds the tiny steel ship;
The fearless vessel lies down by my hip.
The base sit’s engulfed under my thumb;
Suddenly my body begins to go numb.
The flowing liquid comes to a stop;
The vessel is covered as is the plastic on the floor;
Alone the ship is trapped, a bloody moor.
Head pounding, continuous pain;
Without the tiny peace I’d be insane.
My heart speeds up, my body begins to shake;
I’m trapped within a seizures quake.
The world is spinning what a delicious thing;
Down I go, what kind of peace will this bring?
Both are faulted, both are flawed; life is nothing more then a fraud. The mistakes of youth will no longer be; suicide is the only thing left for me.
6) I cry. Desolation, desperation. Why can’t she see me? I sigh. Alone again with the voice in my head constantly talking. I’m never good enough. I must say this or that to avoid getting screamed at. I’ll never be right. “unquiet mind”. Please let my head be still just for a moment. Why can nothing help:stressed.
Always being watched. “presence”. embarrassed by this unsightly body: fat and ugly exterior. She avoids me….they’d all avoid me if they only knew what kind of monster lurks inside my head--this demon that tortures my thought. Confused. Tired. I cry. Why do they get so mad? Why do you only notice me when you’re yelling mom? My love was just not meant to be--this world reminds me too much of me!
I WANT TO LIVE!!!! WHY are these thoughts coming to my mind? It is quite distressing that these ideas should appear. I would never act on them. They’re aggressive I’m passive! I would never do anything like those thoughts… so why are they occurring? Help!!! Oh the sadness, oh the madness, my tortured mind.
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