The Seldom Seen Kid meets Toxic Optimism

Breath hitched inside an empty bag
pumps the unknowing full force forward,
We do not understand what it is
that brings us here to feast, please –
Your pages will write themselves soon.

Stop considering the past as such
that it provokes nothing less now,
Our hands are drenched in rust
from a journey meant to be alone –
But company follows this curator.

A keeper of histories of hatred
so that nothing will come again,
Threats push a vaccine deeper
this will bring us to our knees –
And I am no leader, no savior.

We can sleep through everyday
and pretend that night never comes,
Still a ring will sound in shallow glasses
that crisp at my bottles tip –
These bones belong to no such interpreter.

Escape while you still can hear
that bragging voice in the distance,
Go to the vibrations sent outward
for it is you that they are searching for –
Stop stalling behind my freedom,
and fly destined breezes dazedly.

Wrong Hypotheses

and you think it’s depression,
That I hate myself
or maybe I am not satisfied –
Do you question yourself?
Perhaps the past has its toll on me.

and you think it’s us,
That it’s not quite working out
or maybe I don’t trust you –
Do you wonder if I truly love you?
Perhaps I hate what we have.

and you think it’s jealousy,
That I want to be different
or maybe just some parts –
Do you think I want to be somebody else?
Perhaps I would change if I could.

and you never think,
That it’s just natural
or maybe meant to happen –
Do you realize when I see her…
Perhaps I wonder if you truthfully
fine her more beautiful than me?

Reflective

I stand here separated
a mirror reflecting dutifully
Sharing its cruel image.
It shows what I’m not used to;
these strange appendages,
paper white skin
polluted purple scars.
Freckles and blemishes map
their way around my body.

I do not find myself ugly,
but when I look at myself
For some reason I can’t bear it –
and tears seem to flood my eyes.

Cursed with the body of a 12 year-old,
a mind too sharp to care about it,
but emotions too true to ignore it.

Nuts and Bolts

So I get up. Lately the sun has beginning to scratch itself into my eyes and that has been my source of an alarm clock, this must mean spring is just around the corner. Pulling back my sheets I wash and dress to look like I look almost everyday but with something very subtle just to spice it up and keep those close around me on their toes. Vaguely I can recall what is being told to me, droned into my ears by some sort of machine everyday as I sit in a wooden desk only to get up and sit back down in another one. Tapping my pencil passes the dragging time.
Looking around at all the other blank faces, or those distracted by mutual boredom, I can feel my brain becoming a little more distorted each time and question everything I view around me. Why are we all sitting here when this machine looks at us as just another number, another letter, another bolt in their large desk that they think will get them somewhere. Maybe to some of these machines, we are another figure in their salary. I cannot help but think to myself of how depressing it is that I am actually seated calmly in these places five out of seven days of my week, spending my time doing what it is I do not feel necessary anymore. It is all just a veal-fattening pen so that they can prime us up and shove us into those neat little holes that have our specific numbers on them since birth, but so many people feel it right to blindly ignore this. Really, I am the one at a lose here because I can see the destruction of individualism within these instiuitions and it is driving me insane because I am forced to be in one of them. Forced to lay back and pretend everything will be alright whereas my insides are churning. When will a day arise when we no longer have to comply to the thoughts of our elders and we are able to do what we believe is right? This is not chaotic, it would just result in a truly free, individualistic society. I yearn for it, but I know that if I had it there would be little chance I would want to stay in it. Just as I, now, wish not to stay in this one.
Draping feelings of loneliness capture themselves in my eyes which begin to look dead behind faulty lines of make-up, they grasp for some kind of sanity in this daily life of routine and realism. Little escapes reach my fingertips on late evenings and short weekends in the form of metal strings, burnt pages, broken pencils, destilled laughter, soft kisses, and sheets of a substance that caress the soul I can only set free on the rare occasion.
Time slips like sand through my scrawny fingers that feel rather broken now. I guess I will have to let my feelings fade, this system will not change drastically anytime soon (even as everybody can now see the harsh effects of their actions). There will always be few of us who sit at the back of these classrooms with a contorted look on our faces as the teachers try to teach us something they barely have interest in themselves, questioning the reason for all of which is being shoved reluctantly into our heads. Will there ever be a time when the world will see true freedom and individualism? Is there a point where my eyes will befall on a true creative reality amongst human beings? Or will these strong vibrations of hope continuously be crushed and flattened by this machine? I cannot answer any of these questions, but I do know that I am not another bolt. I am a perpetual motion machine, restlessly trudging forwards throughout the mud begging for a long-lasting escape into a different dimension of self.

It’s time for a rant…

What we expect is nothing compared to what happens…

I saw not much in this future, when my senses were firstly adjusted I saw much more differently. Everything came so quickly to my vision like the winter that lapsed upon our relationship, us blaming everything ill on the cold nipping our windowsills that we vastly cover with drapes of unwanted glory. Time, simply inescapable, lapsed itself onto us in the worst way possible and we let it ride. Taking not enough advantage of the heat, the sun, the happiness and when dark clouds loomed overhead and we finally got to really know one and other it was already too late. Destined for these tears, these fears that tremble in the night under our beds shrieking up at us like we are infants chasing away our barely born dreams. We want only happiness – but how can we have that if we don’t have true pain and sadness first? You think we have had our fair dosage of hurt, but I think we deserve even more…but I will not be the one to bring it upon us this time, I won’t be. I was in the first place, wanting to get everything over with as soon as possible. How much do you regret? How much do you lie?

What is felt is never accepted…

All I wanted to do was flush forward all of these thoughts that ran tired through my open head, striving for control over this heart that so rightly belonged to you. Days of painted skies passed and we know they will come again…that is why we keep on fighting, even if our attempts are becoming pathetic (so are the battles). This is truth, these feelings are true, but you won’t have any of it because you are afraid of what they will make you feel. Time to accept that bad things happen, will always happen, but we just need to learn how to accept and no longer languish all our feelings.

What we say is barely what we mean…

Shattered feeble attempts crawl their way back to our doorsteps. Every time the tears glide down my cheek, you seem to feel a spec of wrong so ask if it is alright – I say it is. When will I ever be able to tell you the truth when it comes to that? If I say it isn’t, then everything goes to hell in a fucking hand basket. Hand baskets woven out of darkened bark dead long ago from nights too long. Don’t forget it if I say it’s OKAY and don’t overreact if it isn’t. My words are barely ever what I mean.

Even if for better, even if it can never be discovered – a lie is a lie and we should feel bad for them…

I am not stupid. And everybody lies. Some people not so much, and some people never lie to certain people. I can’t lie to you anymore, I am already sick of it when I have barely ever done it in the first place. If I have done it, you already know the truth. I can feel the lies dribbled from your mouth like rotting candy apples at that old fairground where you never went. There have been things you’ve said that are lies, your opinion and point of view changes too rapidly on certain subjects that I am afraid even I can’t tell which time you are lying anymore…but not all points of views can be truthful, now can they? When you are caught, you do the worst thing and continue to lie – do I really look that stupid? How could you feel so EASY about feeding me bullshit? How could you sit there and smugly reply with indecent answers that a child could think up, and a child could catch too. When I do catch, it’s all the worse…it becomes my fault. This isn’t right. Is it really too much to be asking? I’m just asking for you to be my partner, in all sense of the word…Faithfulness is not just about monogamy but also about being true to the other in their views of what is right and wrong inside a partnership.

To move forward we have to face our fears and forget…

So many times we have sat in this position with nothing left to say but crumbled sentences mashed out by pencils. Poetry can save our souls but not our minds, which I am afraid they are slipping each and every time. To be alone, to face these problems on my own…and what is yours? Tell me, maybe we can fully avoid them together, or face them together (which wouldn’t make much sense with mine, but still). Things have happened, it has been an equal motive. It switches back and forth, don’t be so fucking naive as to think it is all on me (or at least most). It seems like that but look deeper. If we could have taped the past few months, it has been totally equal. I have started, you have finished. Just like anything else in a partnership, it is an equal fucking effort. So lets just forget about who did what or who said what and just fess up to all our lies so that our slates can be clean again. I’ve done that, it’s your turn. If you say you’ve done that…I don’t see the end result…(the thing I’ve said so many time amongst tears, screams, and whispers).

Do I really have to give up what I am??? Do you???

What parts of us are we changing for the other? Is it even really that bad in the first place that we are CHANGING – NO. Because change is inevitable, and we have got to do it. Not separately, but we have to grow together onto one and other. I need love, care, tenderness, and most of all appreciation through words (writing and verbal) and actions. I need to know what I am is what you love, what is it I am? What parts of me do you wish to never change…if I don’t know…they might as well change…the parts I love about you I say too much (you’re sick of it, I know). So instead what is it you NEED, what can I do for you? You usually say nothing but be happy, what a lie. You wouldn’t be in the moods you are in if that’s it. Do you need me to shut up and lock away my emotions? Then tell me so. We can work around it, work it through together. As long as we calmly TALK about it, it should be just fine. We love each other. We are in love. I believe in us, and I hope you do too. So lets fix us every step of the way, every problem we run into (apart or together) lets make sure we fix it together not with TIME but with TALK and support. We just have to change the little parts of ourselves that aren’t really good parts in the first place. The parts that make us human beings of the lesser moral, is that so bad? I have to do it too, just as much as you have to do. With this petty sacrifice of badness will come the reward of true love that cannot die and will not die even if worlds separate us. I know you are probably thinking CORNY right now, but stop. It’s cute. It’s romantic. It’s love. If you don’t like it, why are you in it?

Are you ready? I am. Can we get going?

It is all just about changing for each other and growing together. If we are in love we should love each other most out of all. Missing you the moment you walk out that door right up to the moment you step back in. If it is about saying the persons name 400 times a day more than your own…then I’ll say it 500 times more because you know that the feelings we get when everything is just alright and the sun is up overhead…the trickle from the lake, the sounds from the woods behind us, staying up as late as possible hoping to see the sunrise (but never quite making it)….you know those feelings are so rare and you do not want to let them go. So don’t. All we have to do is work through these rough patches together and we will finally reach a point where bumps, hills, and curves in our road will seem like just pebbles beneath our feet barely scratching our skin.

Don’t you want to see me frolic in the open again, forgetting about my humiliation and shoes…dancing to an unknown tune in my head inviting you (even if you decline) to dance with me on semi-burnt grass of summer time on hills that are sometimes too tiring to run back up so we just lay at the foot of them? How much do you smile when I am sleeping and roll on top of you muttering about Harry Potter and Soy Sauce? Don’t let that fade away, let’s make those the only memories we make from now on and forget about the ones that aren’t like that….lets get going….

Simple Words

These words so foreign to my lips.
When will my voice be able to say it?
I hope it will soon come to me,
just like the way it falls from your tongue
Every night i hear its precious truth,
Still I cannot seem to simply speak.

The time you are not around me
It flows like a raging river,
crashing at the shores of people;
their shoes drenched with the phrase.
The strangest part is that it comes from me.
They all appreciate these false words

I remember a time when they were familiar,
passed off with a smile and their truth.
When they fall from my mouth before you,
can you not tell of all their simplicities?
The way my voice carries them lightly,
their faltering steps between what is real.

For now I will respond in silence,
thanking you for your honesty
The reasoning escapes me too;
of why everything is so new to me,
why I lost the ability to be genuine,
why I cannot say “I Love You”

anymore.

Torn By The Tides of Winter

“can a maxim really take this toll?”
(remark here under the dotted line,
sign your life away in a patented design)
feelings fraud out of us for sorrows
knowing one can always overtake the other
you asked if a maxim could end this
in a heartbeat.

“do you really prefer death?”
crouching over top of countless banging waves
the ceiling meets the floor and we cave
it takes hours every night rehearsing
just to get this all down
the masquerade is almost as worth
as bringing all the lovers down.

“what colour is your life?”
memories picked from thorned bushes
dabbled in the indifferent tray
tried so hard to create this place
the one where everything is vibrant (and alright)
instead my mouth dries with its tip
leaving but the faded page corners –
creeping in behind the gray.

“when will it come again?”
systematically waiting for little
these hopes dwell in flies
stuck to carboned windows of a moving train
I’m afraid that it’s never coming back
because we drained it of its bright,
forgetful that everything must end
now we wait for something
– – – that will never come.

“Why?”
push those grinning thoughts from my head
I helped put those scars on my arm
it was you who put the needle in my side
stayed around to watch me fall
failing through sanity gone astray
I fear this smile will be the last one
to grace me in my days.

“And now?”
we lay like nothing ever happened
words (said and unsaid) eaten and erased like candy
my hands are left but clean
the air surrounds my throat
these expressions are not true
you always make that wrong turn
the one where you believe I’m okay
when I say I am.

Forever Broken

the flight of stairs doesn’t go any further
this is good because how much more can my body take?
How much more do I want it to take?
shaking crucifixes dance wildly in my mind
(God will forgive us, he always does).

hands slither down my sides
a tongue rapes my mouth, my acts dead in reply
fleeting feelings of love are wisped away
Thoughts of handholding melt through my fingers

I feel bad because it feels good
the needle still nestled in my veins
his face buried deep between my legs
this shouldn’t be happening
– oh well I lost my innocence sometime ago.

I hear faint whispers, “I love you”
Finally, salvation
No – he will not make love to me
He’ll use my body too in a different kind of way
even if he doesn’t mean to.

“I was made for you”
the only one that would treasure this body
Make love to it with no thoughts of fetish
and it turns out I cannot bring myself
to be with him – I cannot reciprocate.

blood fills my nostrils
hate breaths air deep into my lungs
from this death I will not succeed
here I am for all of humanity
(to use, abuse and bruise)

its worse because it feels good
too good.
I punish myself for this
my body deserves this –
but does my mind deserve this pain?

I need to find sweetness
somebody to want my body
(and nothing else but me with it)

still i will continue to run
through this world with battered arms,
weakened limbs,
tired eyes,
lustful mind,
bleeding wrists,
tearing soul.

Heartache Blows Youth Away

ties from burgundy carpet rugs
my back is burnt just as bad
as bad as the burns you left beside my lungs
large flakes feel like chalant dates
times that pass through broken vases of candy corn
just because Halloween is our favourite holiday
we get to wear a mask over our disguise.

I feel like I’m falling through the holes you’ve created for me.
just to avidly kill the difference.
in me.
so we turn the clocks like waves of electric failure.
go back, to the beginning.

the walls are redefining love
in love with closet doors
only to put a rounded coffee stain
on the ripples of today
how much time do we have left
in our couching youth of lame
swirl around this basement out of a sitcom
these friends are substantial.

it is because the butterfly
she walked out of the complex door
lined with DVDs and uncertainties
I’m afraid of commitment
from the socks on my feet
to the sway of the bedroom door.

the tear between my blood and skin
flattens itself to drown in old days
the ones that smell like molded opportunities
freeing from the deeper inner intensity

to go back
go back to junior gumballs of lit candles
burgundy snatched these chances
kissed away the future with thick smoke
red lipstick left on cigarettes
dancing in the light of gross

the walls are rewriting hate.

Cool Breeze

snow drips from the continued satellite
to snap from pressure of nature and not
creep down slopes unguided by life
what do you think will happen?

lies melt and our heads fumble
for meaningless words to correct pointlessness
days drip like painted trash cans
when will you learn to mature?

buttons prod the speakers below
feeling for warmth in the empty room
always been afraid of the dark
will you sleep with me tonight?

they learn their steps and lines
defeated outbreaks wash like green
tidal waves parading our dreams
can you stay in love with me?

only ticks will change blue jeans
dreams fall from calloused fingertips
aggravating, I love you so – but –
can I make it through this?
when you’ve given up fighting,
don’t you enjoy this
you do.
can it work if I’m the only one striving?