Something

“Stream-of-consciousness writing a la Jack Kerouac is a meditation tool. Writing about regrets over the past or fears of the future, no.”

Feelings hypnotize unsatisfied ruler of my brain. Please don’t come down here there is really something wrong with my brain. Today, at least. Well, most days. Unconventional, unacceptable as “normal” let me apologize now before you decide to run away. Sometimes I wish I could run away, take a vacation and escape from the pounding confusion, lifting the fog that’s in my head. I used to be afraid to showcase these things, people wouldn’t understand. But still face to face I have to pretend that I belong in this world with these socially acceptable behaviors. I really have no idea what to do.

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10 Things I Hate About You

I hate the fact

that you live right above me,

it means that I

can hear almost every move you make.

I hate how you

designate yourself as the rule maker,

establishing how we can act and how often we can see each other.

I hate the way

I go along with these rules,

just here for the ride with no questions asked.

I hate the way

you get to me,

constantly clinging to the cells inside my brain.

I hate how you

make me feel tingly all over,

sometimes good, sometimes bad,

but most of all when I can’t distinguish from the two.

I hate the fact

that I can’t stop thinking about you,

feeling you, sensing your presence all around me.

I hate how

when I get mad at you,

I can’t help but getting over it just like that.

I hate the way

I love you so,

helplessly, hopelessly, relentlessly so.

I hate the

things I say sometimes,

because I really don’t mean them, not at all.

I hate how

I can’t keep hating you,

sometimes I wish I could, but really I’m glad I can’t.

 

 

Expression

It’s weird how words express our feelings.
Sometimes words can’t do this.
I was looking at a tree today.
I’m not sure what kind.
A tree with green leaves.
Really tall and overpowering.
What I thought of was,
I’ve never really appreciated this tree.
Or trees in general, in a really long time.
“Appreciate” being the key word.
That’s the closest word I could come to the emotions that I felt.
But it was more than appreciation.
It was love, it was sad, it was happy,
It was… Confusing.
I moved to an apartment
In an area where I don’t see trees
that often.
But I used to live by trees and see
trees all the time.
But i didn’t appreciate them.
I didn’t miss them
Until I went to my parents’ house,
the house I used to live.
I saw the tree, and I saw the life
that  I forgot about.
Maybe not forgot, just never
noticed.

Dagger

There’s a constant
dagger in my heart
it pulls back and forth
I can’t seem to maintain
any kind of balance
no maintanance
no sense of logic
just heart strings
up and down up and down.

Am I the only one that feels this
I constantly ask
but no one knows the answer
right now i’m filled with hate
towards no one but myself.
I want to take a bath
I want to sink and drown
Further and further
I want to feel the water
in my lungs
I want my heart to stop
beating like drums

Nothing in this life makes
sense to me
except for words
they know how I feel
but words can’t always
express the nature of my being
when it feels like my
insides are bleeding.
You gave me this
but I gave you more
and I want it back.
I don’t wanna be sober
let’s go smoke some crack
Is this raw enough for you?
Cuz what you’ve seen
are words made out of
Plastic Surgery
made to cover up
all the mistakes and
all of the Real.

There was nothing real
about those poems
on yellow paper
hanging up on your wall.
You want Jordan?
Well this is Jordan.
Let me know if you
still want to her
but the question is
do you want the
Plastic Surgery version?
or the Real?
Be careful what you
answer. I’ll slap on
a fake smile
and a fake laugh
until my insides burst
I won’t even show you that.

Where did my mind go?
I lost it. Along with
my happiness. What more
do you want from me?
You said…
You said your only goal
was to make me happy.
instead you made me
Crazy.
But then again
your words never
do mean anything,
do they?
Bullshit flys out of
your mouth like
you won the award
for Player of the year.
You never mean what
you say and never
say what you mean.
I want my poems back.
I want my words back.
I want my heart back.