misery

Buzzcut Boy

Folder: 
Confessions

It's not you,

It's not me,

It's not him

It's the world that has been

sucking us back in

to the dark void it's yet to fill

devouring our rainbows and

any shade and trace of light

and everything we hold dear

 

It's not you

It's not me

It might be

the words of a madman that

have devoured me piece by piece

ever since

until I suffocate and dissolve

into the nothingness I feel

at 3 a.m.

 

And I'm sorry if you knew this only now.

 

It's not you

It's not him

It's the constant fear

that has built a home

out of the shanties of my heart

Pulling the strings,

the triggers

on its whim

 

And I'm sorry but it's already won the war, I believe

 

It's not you

It's not me

It's not him

It's the inevitability I cannot escape

And so in silence, I shall

roam this world and carry

the memories of us,

your buzzcut and my smile,

and the glow I basked on with

in that April afternoon.

 

Forget about me.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem about how depression affects love.

Solitary night

 
 
Solitary night
 
tears of dissatisfaction
 
choking on memories
 
a torrent as the dark presses in
 
Searching, seeking
 
the long-awaited slumber
 
of each miserable, useless regret of yesterday
 
Yet, afraid to face the uncertainty of tomorrow
 
 
 

Rebirth

Folder: 
Confessions

“Who is he?”

I whisper to myself

as your eyes gaze off to the distance

and treat me with the unbearable silence

I’m a little too late, I guess,

I hear your eyes scream, they confess

It is him who holds your heart

The one you’d rather hold your hand

Under the city lights

In a cold November night

 

But my love for you is greater than his.

 

So do the honor and list down the things

you so liked about him

Watch me burn myself with a pile of leaves

and reborn as him

Just let me be your light, your candle tonight

I can be him, your lover, if you like

I’ll cut my wrist, drain the blood my ancestors

passed on to me

Replace it with the words he whispers

when I’m not around

Let his words flow down my veins so you may speak

and tell me all the things you never say to me

Slit my throat with the screen of the phone you use

To capture his face, his smile, the perfection, your muse

Because you never even once

took a picture of me

— or maybe my image is just

too hideous for you to keep?

What strength of lens does he use, you say?

I can smash mine down if it’s not the same

Use the shards to peel off my skin I so badly hate

Blessed is he to have the kind that keeps you sane

I’ll unclench my claws I’ve spent years to build

Pull them out and mold me his hands and feet

Let the blood spritz all over the room

Let them spell: HERE LIES A HOLY FOOL,

WHO SURRENDERED HIMSELF FOR LOVE —

BECAUSE HIS LOVE WAS NEVER ENOUGH.

Tell my mother I died a sweetest death

And I’ll be waiting in line in the Day of Resurrect

Pour out the gasoline all over my corpse for the final touch

Say a short Ignatian prayer before you strike the match

Watch my skin; watch my veins turn to ash, turn to dust,

as I’m enveloped and swallowed by flames

‘Cause I’m tired of fighting, I’m tired of asking,

“Who is Carl, baby? I’m James.”

 

From now on, call me Carl.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem about wanting and loving someone so much you are willing to turn yourself into someone else.

Penance

Folder: 
Confessions

I tried to change

I tried to gain your approval

Tried to bring back the smile you had when we first met

and the fire that kept us alive for hours in dark heavens

I tried to turn back time and find my purity

Bowed down and prayed to the Divine

Burned my Nietzsche books

and turned to your Ignatian rules

Climbed the thousand steps of El Salvador

on my knees

Lit two candles in San Pedro Church

and prayed

Abstained myself from Rand and Marx

Silenced the waves of the seas

inside my soul,

the loud beating of my dying heart,

the whispers of the cold wind

Dressed black on Friday nights

Slapped my cheeks with verses

of my sins

Recited the rites of holiness 

to conjure your love

Dried up my eyes from hellish cries...

I swallowed you

Your blood, flesh, and tears

Like a sacrament, I welcomed it all —

even the dark clouds that moved 

around you

Didn't I hear the heavens and saw

the angels in you?

Still, my demons are here to stay and say,

Why am I still not enough for you?

How can be enough for you?

Genesis

Folder: 
Confessions

I was but a faithless faithful married to my odes

A paradox of love and hate

A chainless slave of death

The master of a destiny roaming down lonesome roads

 

You came one day and I knew what to expect

Dark-red roses and a month for my heart to wreck

Like many of my poems, this love too will come to dust

In the comfort of the night, this bond will start to rust

 

But your light is stronger than my pessimism

Like a blanket in a stormy night, you envelope me

The touch and warmth of your skin tells me to believe again

In the vision of a tomorrow where I’ll never be alone again

 

With your lips, I remember my youth and hopes and dreams

With your hands, you take me back before I began to fear

With your tongue, you breathe life to my long-lost faith in heaven

With your eyes, I begin to hope and love again

 

And so then I took down my Berlin Wall,

Forgetting my sorrow and fear to fall

The Cold War is now over and the Sun has come

Here comes the Summer I've waited years to come

 

A puzzle I want to unravel,

You upped my curiosity

You bring more questions than answers

Testing my long-held tenacity

 

Years of reasons have finally abandoned my sanity

What is left is your voice and the visions of our promises

Gone are the days I preferred Rand and Hegel than your predictable daily updates

I now only crave for your fucked-up emojis and monotonous 'Hi's' and 'Hey's'

 

Wreathe me with your holy Marian poetry

As I undress my Peregrine peculiarity

Cast away the bedlam of the world

And cover me with your celestial words

 

If this love is a game of dark and light

Take me to Bethlehem where the stars breathe life

I'll lead you to my deepest sorrow

Off to Gethsemane our hearts shall go

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

My first poem in 3 years!!!

Please do read. This is about the beginning of the romance I am with right now. 

Please do comment and provide reviews. THANK YOU.

Picked to Pieces

Folder: 
Dark

The coating underneath

Eats away at surface cracks

You peel layers of me

As if I'm scabby flesh 

 

We work on me

Like we're dissecting the abnormal

Pushing and pulling 

Vulnerability grows

 

Haunting trails of voices

Linger in the open world

Soon growing hands

Upon my neck to grasp

 

Eyes too tired to be vibrant 

You've given me a sorrowful glow

Dark truths, a halo for my head

Misery flaunts an awful tone

Dim

Folder: 
Short Poems

When we hear our names,

We light up

When the world is dim,

We try to escape

Maybe I don't want to escape

Because Sarah is Misery

I'm not me when I'm not faking my smile

Company

After our time

I met someone

They invited me to a movie

Then to lunch

Then to their home.

But with each visit.

The more friends we made.

I enjoyed their company.

And Theyve enjoyed mine.

Ive put our past behind us.

So id like you two to meet.

Have you met Miss Ery?

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Enter My Fear

All of the welcoming emotion suddenly dies.
and the darkness shrouds the land in only misery's cries.

 

Enter grief!
A timeless ocean. 
Trapped of despair, trapped without relief
Enter the moon!
Endless racing of the thoughts.
Including you alone, trapped dead inside an empty room

The dead is holding you stiff once more!
Staring into your eyes, never have you felt so gone before

The time comes again, to pit against all that is you
Will you ever find the part of you that is actually true?

Paint the sky bleak
Consider everything we cannot speak

The one painting with the sun I painted as a child is lost.
Reality has broken the barrier, this is the ultimate cost