Sick

Ive wired my mouth shut

100 words or less every day.

Up at 3pm.

Awake till 7am.

I don’t have anything to say

Seldom one to say unto.

But I’m here— wanting time to speed up.

Ive always been one to have allot to say

But I’ve just sat in complete silence for a long while.

Don’t quite remember things well, couldn’t tell you how long its been.

To break it i’ll crawl out of my room for food and ask what day it is.

But I’ll never remember

My mind is in constant spiraling atrophy 

When the time comes for a shower i cant tell if I’m losing or gaining weight— always just heavier bags under my eyes.

I’m small and silent these days.

Angry.

Nobody’d see, nobody’d hear these words anyways. 

Not if I screamed out or threw something, just a sudden sound to echo in my ears only.

It’s incredible how completely alone i am to my thoughts, feelings, memories, and future.

And quite honestly— nothing could change it, not a companion, not a friend, not a job. You’ll always be the only one to play Marco polo with in your head to see if you’re still playing the game, or if you’ve finally given up the game to fall asleep under the water.

Marco.....

........

...........

Who’d care?

It feels like summer has set in.

Summer as I’ve come to know it.

Caved in.

I guess every step of the way you come to discover more of yourself.

Like i was branded by two women on the back.

What was left is always just me, icing wounds i allowed to happen while time slips away.

I’m just never going to fall for another one.

You created a juxtaposition of truths inside of me.

And I’m not depressed looking back at the past— what I’ve missed perhaps. I no longer miss a woman you’ve proven to be.... just depressed staring into the future knowing it’ll all just happen again. 

Another one.

That’s why summer has set in.

Because I’m here again seeing if i want another go.

Every time the future is tossed, the same names come up and I’m reminded that i don’t know any different, than to fall for another one and face-plant back in summertime.

That’s why my legs are lead.

That’s why my head is steel.

And that’s why my heart is uranium.

Because i can’t trust another person with this again. 

I’d rather be sick of self infliction then to hand another pretty face the blade.

Nothing's changed for three years, except it's kept dragging on

underneath the bed

with bare feet out the side

they're all laughing

living their lives as nothing happened

as if nothing happened they dance in a jubilee

such joy it seems to justify my absence

like i never even existed

i was never needed in your life, it's clear now that I was only a hindrance

its clear to me now

underneath the bed

with bare feet out the side

an asphyxiated life is no different than an asphyxiated death

just like in college

where the 12 by 6 room was all I had

all I had to feel my eyes red with blood swell with anger.............confusion.........black..................

and a neck too angry and gasping to care anymore

RE: trust

when your compass becomes one that follows magnets

what do you trust now?

distractions.

all of it.

never trust the stars--or where they point.

never trust a compass to lead you home.

never trust a map that boasts new roads.

never trust your nose.

never trust your boots.

never trust another sad story.

never trust another broken past.

never believe in a heart like hers.

i was never good enough.

the compass was wrong.

write another year off and kindly resign.

I’ll be with you from dusk till dawn...

It’s a pity.

A fucking pity.

Look at how sad you make yourself seem.

Nobody’s watching, nobody cares— only enough to chip in and give advice, their two cents.

No idea where that eight months went?

Stick around.

You’ll see.

I just gambled every chip i had.

But i still haven’t revealed my hand.

I am finished.

Out.

Done.

I’m tired at every turn.

Always tired.

And i just cant care anymore.

I’m ready for it.

I just am.

just so you know

L- I drove through logan today

Been back a couple times since

But never back to the third floor of the library, where the chairs overlooked chilled windows and a sad winter sight.

You still have my patch.

You look happy now and I didn't know how to react when I saw the engagement-- Like I was an exhausted olympian who faceplanted his way into passing the baton to the final runner.

I listen to Bat Manors religiously, Choirboy as well. I bought both albums on record--but they don't remind me of you anymore.

I'm not the same person.

I beat my demons 

but unfortunately, I made you into one of them

---------

M- ivebeeninacomaforthelast8months

I woke up from the coma to find myself choosing between Drugs and God

One answers every prayer, every time... and the other has a divine plan to make me find and lose precious gems like you.

Good thing I've consciously chose the ladder of the two and have to wait for my cut branches to grow back to bear fruit.

I am a new man dedicated to my decision to follow another plan.

It's just sad to see things end-- and moreso to think of how they began

So I'll go my way and trust my boots.

----------

?- I do it for you.

Its dusk out and i need shoes on, a pair of ears too

A grass lawn, bigger than a neighborhood




Empty and filled




Of people and with paranoia




The mountains near drank the sun, what’s left was the sunken child who nursed a red sunset




The sky dusks a deeper blue to the east.




Hopefully when it spits the sun back the other side things will have changed.




But it gets darker here,

The crickets louder.




My silent tongue has my teeth resting heavy on my jaw from underuse




So much to say, with none to speak unto.




My job in customer service has me uttering thousands of paragraphs a day without a word said.




Not even so much the sun, or the vacant moon to talk to.




Not even a dusk dark enough to sport a star or two.




Just a scraped blue pallet, awaiting nightfall




Never-mind, i see the moon now

Holy shit a full moon, looks dope though.




Its massive and yellow. Like its face was a couple’s initials carved into an aspen tree, love long broken, left to rot and grow round... never forgotten




It was hiding its big eyes behind a suburban shanty— thats why i missed it




Last time i took these meds, i don’t remember the poems or the red cursive.




I just woke up and had to go to work again.




Jolene must’ve been a real bitch to leave Ray Lamontagne like that.




One year.




A rotation round the sunken sun has left me remembering a night dressed by one song — beach baby, bon iver




A song so drenched in blood, sweat, and cigarette fumes its hard to remember.




All it’ll go down as is my last time losing touch with reality. To others recollection; finding it




Its been a pretty low key fucking year.




Work




Work

Work

Work

... but i was totally chill and motivated by it...




Damn that moon.




Damn that dog that keeps barking its way into my tunes— dude please...




The sky’s cleaning out all its yellow now like a colored car wash on a Saturday morning




The one i missed when i medicated.






This poem was medicated, so lets see how much i remember.