The One thing I got Right
You lay there and seem,
A goddess to me.
Vibrant deadly stream,
the painting from my dreams,
You are the one mistake,
I won’t break,
because kissing you,
Brings me closer to heaven.
And the way your breath,
Ignites winter’s air,
Could save me from death.
This time that we share,
the truths we lay bare,
All let me know,
You are the one thing,
I did right,
the only mistake,
I’ll never take,
we’re measured in heart-beats,
as we start flying away.
piece me together,
and tell me to stay.
I don’t know what’s holy,
but baby we are.
Forget the darkness,
that pain of yesterday,
let me sew you together,
as love lights the way.
Stay here with me, and there’s nothing we can’t create.
Tell me you need me, because that’s all that I say,
Your love is like heaven, so show me the way.
Hate…Hate is the dread reflection of ignorance, the consequence of an uninformed agony; A plague upon the soul. Fight back against it, always.
I’m trying to find that place inside myself, that thing, that makes me feel like what I’m doing matters. That’s the thing that burns away the pain.
A stone’s stuck in me.
It’s like ice. Starts as lump in your throat, seems like sadness, before it spreads. Nothing phases you. You shiver, but don’t really feel the cold, as your blood pools around your vitals. Calcifying into stone.
The hurt is gone, and you wish it would come back. Even the grey has fled, that lovely, middling, warmth. I’d die twice to be permanently content, easier to break limb and bone.
That’s the logic, though, isn’t it? The opposite of inspired. Eating, writing, sleeping…They take a break, until you feel enough to start crying, a quieter tone.
Those beautiful tears, I love them. They’ve kept me back from The Brink more than a reason, purpose, or you ever could. They’ve seen me for what I am, I guess you’ve always known. I’m sorry.
Related short story: https://bluebeard-art.com/cant-keep-goin-on/
If Love is insane, I guess that means we are too.
Then again, sanity never gave me a clue.
Easy——->Click for formatted PDF version of Poem
These lighter poems, I write them to a specific person. I think that’s why they are so stripped down. They’re honest, embarrassingly so. I don’t think that’s the worst thing for poem to be. It isn’t deep, confusing, or all that thought provoking, but I mean it.
Unformatted version below.
The pain that’s easiest to hide,
The one hurt I couldn’t abide,
The times I want to die,
Are when I stop feeling alive.
But you threw the die,
Told me to try,
You didn’t laugh when I’d start to cry,
Or when I told you to help me fly,
Away from here.
That all I wanted was to be free,
And you were the key,
You were okay with letting me be,
Most equate you to the seething, euphoric, and acute joy one feels during an accomplishment. That feeling of well-being and contentedness, whispers promising safety as you engulf us. But, that’s not your true face. You’re a conceptual construct, a platform, an unrealistic ideal.
Happily ever after?
How could you exist, when acute joy is so fleeting. Do you refer to a plateau in which we achieve permanence in euphoria, a chronic dose of endorphin-dreams? Those wisps we’d do anything the infuse, to caress, if only for a moment. Pretend, for a moment, that you are real. What then? After a year of the pleasant mist, doesn’t the equilibrium shift? The extraordinary is the new ordinary. Do we want that? Are the ever-shifting dunes of the human mind really that terrible? To fore-go all moments to crystallize our being into a single emotion. That elusive and momentary bliss.
No. I don’t think that’s what we really want. So I’ll keep chasing the fragments of hope, follow them through the glaciers, through forest-fires, and give myself the time to figure it out on my own.
I had a bit of a rough week, as some of you (*Cough Sheila) may have gathered from my Cynic quotes. I worked really hard to get caught up in chemistry and bio-stats, as well as follow through with my Big Brothers/Big Sisters and Mercy hospital volunteering, only to realize I had not been paying enough attention to calculus. Unfortunately, I think I bit off more than I can chew this semester, and may be forced to drop the calculus. I can blame teacher (who is not good at teaching), but ultimately, it’s my fault. At a point, I just feel like I’m hitting my head against brick, waiting to either get a concussion or learn maths, whatever happens first.
Hired a tutor to help out, hopefully I can catch up without inhibiting my other courses, work, or my writing and drawing.
Not all bad news, met with adviser and found out I’m farther along then I thought. I’m also working with a man (I can’t give out names) at the hospital who is a really talented illustrator. Similar to what you’d find in Marvel or DC comics. He has literal piles of drawings that he showed me, really cool stuff.
This handsome fellow making a pillow fort below, is Rufus. He’s my toothless doggo and I love him. Picture quality isn’t that great, sorry about that. Thanks to my parentals for sending the pic, really cheered me up when I needed it.