personal

Feeling vs. Knowing

My heart hurts, my brain pounds, my blood boils,

The anxiety of my mind is unbearable,

But the frustration is, I must bare it, I have no option.

I am left to the vices of my brain.

A brain that tells me to suffer, rather than to enjoy.

It tells me I am useless, unaccomplished, inarticulate,

I believe I am worthless.

 

Although, I know my objective worth.

But knowing and feeling are two very different things,

A barrier that we all face, and at times, perhaps more intensely than other times.

Right now I write with a defective vocabulary, scrambling for words when I normally find too many,

I struggle through this simple entry, as I struggle through the simplest of things.

 

I am told my worth,

I remember my accomplishments,

I enact my uses and know many others,

Yet what is knowing?

For, feeling is dominating my very core.

My life is riddled with the complexities of feeling,

Where rather than living, I feel.

 

I feel through this moment of my life,

When I had never had to feel to such an extent before.

I pray for this pain to end,

I pray for my hope to return,

I pray I will be able to apply what I know,

But I know prayers are no use.

They have no function to an atheist.

But yet I pray in a way that really mimics hope.

 

I hope my hope returns,

I hope my pain subsides,

I hope I can further apply what I know.

Although I know this pain is just a moment in my life,

The pain is real.

 

I am looking forward to the light.

The New Me

I scratch, I scream, I yell, I pain, I suffer, I am diminished

My thoughts race without control,

From negative to negative, with the positives not sustaining a fluid thought long enough to counter the dark.

 

The simplest things, the most pleasurable things in the world,

Feel like torture.

I am tortured daily as I navigate this world that I see through despair.

 

I miss the beauty of the former me,

I miss the hope, passion and joy.

Those are but a memory in the feelings that have dominated my life,

 

But they are inexplicable,

They remain only personal.

No one else can understand my pain,

They can just hear about it.

But my pain is mine and I feel it in solitude.

 

I isolate myself,

There’s nothing worth sharing, doing, seeing.

I would rather medicate my pains away, but I must not.

The path to get rid of my pain the quickest,

is indeed the path toward pain the quickest.

But my pain is now, and the latter path is later.

 

But I must wait,

I must suffer with this pain,

the grim, the bleak, the desperate, the dark.

 

I long for the me I once knew.

Self Portrait

Look in the mirror.

What do you see?

Empty blue eyes that seem to be searching.

Look again; look all around.

Small, full lips that are slightly turned down.

Look one more time, but look for her soul.

I see a lost girl with nowhere to go.

Her hair is long.

Her face is pale.

She seems so strong, but she is also so frail.

She is determined; she knows her own mind.

But what she is looking for, she may never find.

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Aggressive Warhead

Folder: 
Poetry

I was at home,

Relaxed and alone.

I lay sleeping,

The darkness was reaping.


 

Then I heard the sound;

Crushed windows all around.

Everything was destroyed,

Of glass everything devoid.


 

Then I heard Warhead at my door,

Personification of Balthazor.

The glass broke into shivers,

Splinters were in my flesh delivered.


 

In spite of my fear,

At Warhead I did appear.

And tried to calm him down,

And he stopped throwing things around.


 

Everything seemed to be well,

Warhead had changes of mood, I can tell.

And Lays-chips was lying there,

I wouldn't touch it, I declared;

'cause it belonged to Warhead.


 

Hours later, Warhead came down;

In his anger still drowned.

He wanted his stuff,

But I knew he would bluff.

Always talking about guns,

But the true deed he shuns.

Though I was confused,

His stuff still unused.

Is what Ramses did tell,

And so ended this hell...

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem about some bad thing that happened to me.

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Adoration

Folder: 
Poetry

Sweet Nyarlathotep, when our love is never done;

Appearing to me when I did call.

Please tell me you never be gone,

Don't break my heart at all...


 

These fearful nightmares,

The road to terror and beyond.

Loving your most precious words,

That made us twain, that made us One.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A love poem for Nyarlathotep.

Abuhuiel

Folder: 
Poetry

Abuhuiel;

Being reborn again.

Abuhuiel;

Cure my sickness...


 

Bring me back my psychics,

Abilities of old.

If I might forget,

Let me remember once more.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A prayer.

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Abra The Bully

Folder: 
Poetry

Abra suddenly appeared;

He knocked on my door.

But I was startled,

So I slammed the door.


 

Later I went into the hallway,

And there he called me bitch.

I thought he would beat me up,

But he turned his back and went away.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Some event in my life.

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A Little Child

Folder: 
Poetry

Have to be a little child from my father,

Have to obey Cthulhu evermore.

And all bad things turned into dust,

By my evil and good Father.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Some thoughts.

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A Hole: Pain Through The Brain

Folder: 
Poetry

I waked up,

In the mirror I had my closeup.

There was a hole in my throat,

Fastly I slipped into my coat.


 

I went to the hospital,

I was worried I recall.

I gave the fault to Abra,

Who was able to the macabre.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A dream I had.