Series of Sad Stuff

All right, I've been majorly depressed the last couple of days. I keep having this recurring dream where my Wolfe is standing at shcool, all “ha! You believed I was dead!” and I’m HAPPY!Because she’s ALIVE! And then I wake up, and I’m sad…so here’s a series of poems that get progressively sadder, longer, and angrier. And sorry I haven't been on lately, been working devilish shifts at the pool. Alst Saturday I worked from 9:30 in the am to 10:30 in the p.

Valentine

Happy Valentines Day!
I hope you can sense the sarcasm,
Because if that first line,
Was a REAL Philly Cheesesteak,
The sarcasm would be thicker,
Than the grease.

Because I’m not very happy.
Because I can’t get you off my mind.
Because sometimes,
Sometimes I really hate you.
Sometimes that raw, angry loathing,
Is so powerful,
That I want to throw up,
To get that writhing thing,
Out of what’s left of my heart.

And then I hate myself.
Because even though you left me,
I was the one,
Who couldn’t keep you.
I was the inadequate reason,
To keep you alive,
In anything but my dreams.



Polluted

I don’t like the moon tonight.
I can’t see it through my blinds,
Through the rain thick clouds,
But I know it’s there,
Gleaming in all its pasty malevolence.

Tarnished dream bringer,
Keep your dreams to yourself,
I’ve seen enough of her face,
I don’t want to hold her again,
On to wake up and re-learn she’s…


So stop weaving your threads,
Dream Weaver.
Cut loose your tapestry,
From my poisoned desires,
It hurts all too much.

It haunts my day,
Leaping forth from midnight yearnings,
To walk my mourning halls,
And catch the blood that drips,
From my broken fists,
The incisions in my neck,
From trying to know how you felt,
With that cord about your throat.

Only chains pierce deeper,
Than threaded rope,
And I only have so many,
High necked shirts.

So please,
Leave me ALONE!

I want to close my eyes without,
Her face engraved on my eyelids.
I want to uncry a thousand false dawn tears,
Of a thousand false life dreams,
And just sleep it all away.

Don’t force me to watch another sunrise,
Creep across my ceiling,
Through drops of inner ocean spray.
Forbid these hopeless hopes, dreams,
Fabricated school day delusions,
To haunt me anymore.

Exorcize my reveries of this phantom,
And let my sleep through,
The red sunrise of pollution.



Rot And Snot

I’m rotting from the inside out,
Some mold, some fungus,
Is eating me alive.
What else could cause this burning?

Surely I can’t be that angry.
I can’t be so angry that I sit,
And wretch for hours on end,
Trying to expel this creature,
From my gut.

Then I just cry my gory tears,
Until I’m as empty as a church,
During Monday’s predawn,
And then I don’t know what to do.
Because all I feel is pain,
And I cried out the reason long ago,
Lost somewhere in a snot covered tissue.

So I run.
I look down that highway,
Of people going nowhere,
With half a drop of sanity,
Half a breath of air,
And half an idea where I’m going.

But I’m going.
I’m going wherever you are,
So I can run into your arms,
And slap you as hard as I can,
So that I’ll finally know,
You’ve cried as much as I have.

Then I’ll collapse,
Clutching my sides as I scream,
From the rot that’s taken me over.
And don’t try to me give anti-biotic’s for this.
I don’t need pills, powders, penicillin’s,
I need a dose of anti-memory,
A dose of peace to rip you from my mind,
Throw you on the ground,
Kick you in the stomach,
Spit in your face,
Then run away laughing,
Flipping you the bird,
And blowing a raspberry.

Because I want to get on with my life!
I want to get on with me.
I need to forget your name,
Your life, your face,
Cough you out, throw you up,
Dig my nails into my brain and claw you away,
Blow you into one last tissue,
Wrap you up in a blanket of snot,
And let you rot in a trashcan.

But hey,
At least you won’t be alone,
There are already a lot,
Of used tissues in there.



Comprehension Attempts

The silken water closes,
Over my head and,
My lungs are already burning.
The cement weights pull,
Me down and,
Only my vision can swim.

My body begs me,
To breath but,
I’ll die if I try.
So I’ll just open my mouth,
And silently scream,
To the heaven I don’t believe in.

Is this how you felt,
When you tied that cord,
Round your neck,
And sat down?

Only I don’t want,
To leave this world behind,
So I release the weight.
Then I gasp, and grasp,
An electric pink floating duck,
And turn the water brackish around my eyes.

How could you do it?
You could have stood up,
At any time.
You were only kneeling.

I’ve been trying to see,
How you could,
Choose to go.
How you could simply,
Place your self in darkness,
And sit away your last breath.

My neck is sore,
From trying to understand,
How you could be that weak.
The chain is pulling tight,
Cutting into the cloth,
Protecting my skin.

I’ve already learned,
How to hang without,
Being cut,
Without bleeding.

My vision is going dark,
And my chest is pulling tight,
Trying to steal some air.
So I stand up before I sleep,
Like every other time.
I always have the strength.

You knew, I know you knew!
What it was,
You were going to do.
So why couldn’t you take the time,
To leave behind,
A simple note?

Then I wouldn’t have to try,
To understand.

I guess I wasn’t even enough,
For that.
I wasn’t worth it to you.
So now I have a plastic bag,
Cotton cord, bar across my door.
I have it all.

One wrong move,
And I really will comprehend,
How you felt as you died.