tragic

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.

a man's living nightmare

Stormy, stormy ships quietly love a cold, lively sail. 

Carrying soldiers who arrived at the land knowing that war never prevails.
The world didn't want this battle.
Yet our ignorance sent our men into a different angle. 
 
Thousands of bodies fill the entire shore. 
These men fell hard, like rain onto the mainland. 
Come take quickly! Guns of the dead and boots galore! 
Might as well coat our blood on to your enemy's hand. 
 
War consists of destroying the enemy until they surrender
But what we never think about is how the world would be like after 
People back at home are happy that we won using our bombs
Yet they'll never know what it means to fight in the middle of a hell known as Vietnam 
 
Soldiers go home, after watching their friends die
They feel the warmth of their families but could never find that true peace of mind 
These men stand still as they watch the mothers of the deceased cry
And its because they're having a hard time finding tears that once left them blind
 
Celebrations fill the lands of the winners, 
While the enemy suffers from destruction full-scale. 
The most faithful people were turned into sinners 
because of a war that will never prevail.  

Wrong Turns

Folder: 
1995

Here we are in the darkness of the night

We’re in the part of town with no street lights

Baby, it’s another wrong turn

But we seem to never learn

 

We are two cars at 2 am with no headlights

We both got no plans how to stay, how to drive

Mistaking red flags for runway lights

It feels so wrong but seems so right

 

Then I said, "Let's have time apart"

I thought it would sway from you my heart

Two months and four guys had passed

Nothing but this love would last

 

We let go and turn away

We cross roads then angers fade

You always know how to lead me on

Leave me breathless every touch of dawn 

 

I should just ask you to leave all this behind

But even me don't want to leave you behind

Because I know we'll just keep getting back

And I know this love will keep coming back

 

You’ve got your sweet smile and star tattoo on your chest

I’ve got my dreamy eyes always hoping for the best 

You're the only love I know that feels right

I'm the one you think who brings your world light

 

Sometimes, wrong turns lead you to the right places

At times, bad moves take us to the best days

'Cause love is a tempting rose garden filled with sharp thorns

And not every love story has a prince with a white horse


 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This poem was based on my personal experience and was inspired by Taylor Swift's song, "Style."

About A boy and a girl

Heartache, pain

I'm freezing my buns off in this pouring rain

I keep playing the conversation back in my head over and over again

wondering how things started.

the beginning, the middle , and the end.

Now that things are over and its far from when we met last October.

I couldn't be anymore aware of what I missed out on while you were still there.

Sorry this is not a story about changing the world.

its just a story about a boy and girl who fell in love.

Then they fell apart.

their love became cold and so dud their hearts.

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

um..this poem was off the top of my head so if it sucks..now you know why

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Her Perspective

I found a girl, and saw her perspective
Silent, yet surprisingly reflective
They claimed she was away, entirely defective

But I knew otherwise just from the look in her eyes
I saw through the silent, and closed off disguise


And from there, I saw the immediate connection
Completely dissected, but still searches for true affection

 

Her warm, yet crooked emotion
A calmed, yet broken devotion

 

Silent, but struggling for her sound
and yet, still not a face found

 

Her skin torn, gone and rotten.
Her mouth stolen, words lost, ignored and forgotten.

 

She was exposed to all of the morbid things
Corrupted lies, and uneven broken wings

 

All she wanted to know if happiness was true
This is what I saw, this was the girl I knew

 

And she left sudden, without a word,
Her existence she seen was too blurred

 

Before I could realize, she was gone and done
Did you ever wonder what life can become?

 

All she wanted to know if happiness was true
This is what I saw, this was the girl I knew..

hopeless

 

 

...........

 

 

 

the sad wimpish one 

 

he covers his body with blood

 

hoping someone will notice

 

just how ugly he is

 

 

he wants to be noticed

 

for the great person he truly is

 

but has no time to notice

 

that no one notices

 

anything anymore

 

 

and life goes on

 

and he stays sad

 

dying to live

 

and crying to die

 

 

never having the balls

 

to ask himself why

 

 

2:39 AM 7/6/2013

 

 

            ©

Author's Notes/Comments: 

inspired by the signs of the times, and those who are having a hard time enjoying life on life's terms. 

The Lady With The Tragic Past

I met her in a therapy group,
The woman who had the tragic past,
She spoke with lots of knowledge
On things like 'self esteem' and 'well being',
And I thought to myself,
'Wow, she really has it all together now',
I thought, 'You would never know',
She worked for a support line in the local town,
And everyone looked up to her...

 

She often spoke of predators of a sexual kind,
Mostly when someone spoke up in the group
About a bad experience,
Like about when they were 10 and played doctor with their siblings,
Or when they touched an intimate part of their body,
With another child in their age group,
And the wise woman with the tragic past
Would always be there...to remind them of how bad
The other person was,
And this freed the group member of guilt,
And soon they would join the wise woman
With the terribly tragic past in her mission.

 

One day a member of the group spoke up
About how her parents taught her what oral sex was,
She said it confused her terribly,
And the wise woman with the tragic past stood up,
And became indignant about such awful parents,
How dare they confuse and abuse their 13 year old child
Without permission from the moral majority
And status quo of prominent psychotherapists in the town,
And the police were called immediately to arrest the predators,
And everyone felt a little sorry,
And the group member felt ashamed to have such horrid parents,
Now under the impression that they didn't really love her,
But that they just pretended to.

 

The wise lady with the tragic past would do that,
She would be there like a dear protector,
She took it on as a mission in life to get every last predator,
And with her experience and grand knowledge about abuse,
There was never a need for her to see proof about a predator,
She knew what other's intentions were without them knowing,
Because she just knew exactly what a predator was,
She didn't have to ask,
Everyone knew she knew,
And everyone trusted her judgement.

 

Once, when I was 6 I fell off my bicycle
And hit my head on a rock during a race with other kids,
I passed out and woke up on the neighbor's couch
With an ice pack on my head, and people around me,
All very happy to see me awaken and be ok,
And there were no predators that I can remember,
But there wasn't anyone like the lady with the tragic past there either,
And everything turned out ok,
I was better the next day, riding my bike down the driveway
In the same way I had the day before,
Having lots of fun like kids do,
And now I wonder if I would have ever got on the bike again
If the wise lady with the tragic past had been there.

 

Takes one to know one maybe.

 

10:22 PM 5/8/2013

Author's Notes/Comments: 

When the abused becomes predatory without even realizing it.

Tragic Fight

Folder: 
Sad Love Poems

It just takes one lie to start a fight // it just takes one fight to end the night // & it just takes one night to end months of magic // magic that suddenly turned tragic // the end of us is a tragedy // but the lies was just a painful comedy // & its funny becuz i neva wanted you to leave // but you just ran circles around me // trapping me in my own thoughts of misery // emo words in the back of my mind // but always felt like everything was gonna be fine // becuz ina way i felt like you was trying // but ina way i felt like i was dieing // so R.I.P to that love we created // & i hope that one day its resurrected

.

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