Raw

Now it's less about what I feel
And more about what I don't feel

I couldn't tell you about that though
Not only because you would be too focused to listen
But because I don't know if I am ready
When I address those things that taunt me
In not sure if they will pull me down to their pit
And believe me it's deep
It's dark
And the walls are slick



I have never felt less...
Less full
It's like everyone is a vacuum and I am the dirtiest rug they can find
But these vacuums clean with blades of little discretion
Like rusty old blades
But they are actually lips and tongues that form harsh words
I'm too focused on tying up my leaking arms to be that perfect flat surface

It's funny because I always revert to a mentality that I swore I would never assume
No matter how many times the mirror tells me
I'm strong
It still seems fake

People ask if I am okay
I hate lying but I feel like it's okay to lie when they lie first
I can tell
There's a difference between
"How are you?"
And saying nothing at all
But just holding me still
Because I shake
I create seismic activity but somehow I'm still here
Must be from all the glue I have huffed trying to escape


And you all love pond day because it's an adventure
But I couldn't stop crying
Since November 5th I have been terrified
So very entranced by that which I swore I would never do
And that's why I never want to be alone
Because trees grow ropes and they seem like a good place to rest

People have things to do and Netflix to watch
I have seen the movie "my ceiling" enough times that even the foot tall candles have gone to sleep
But I won't interrupt your porn
Even though you told me I could wait on you
I'm waiting

Still waiting

And it's not working
I have just wasted a lot of time

And I don't really know what to wait for

School has become a wood chipper
It's too bad trees are my favorite
It's really too bad
I have managed to make it this far only losing my arms, a leg, and all my personality
Those teeth in the chipper come in forms of do's and don'ts
And my hair
Well it's my hair
Somehow that tooth was broken
And I have the kid who died kicking and screaming to thank for that
Because he knew that even if he didn't make it, one day enough teeth would break, enough that some poor soul could slip through just perfectly to come out with a head and heart
Just enough space to squeeze a personality into
And not the ones you but at the dollar store

I feel bad for these pages
They now have all the angst and rage I had about 43 minutes ago
And somehow I know the kicking boy gave them to me
So it's alright that they feel sad now
Because it's their turn
And every reading eye will ease their burden until the pain dissipates into a thin blanket covering the whole earth
But it's easy to lift
The skyscrapers do most of the work

So going back to feelings and what I have and don't have
You can measure that by the colour of my jacket I wear
And how many days in a row it has been

I Think I Hate You

 

 

I hate you because I can't afford a transplant

You made me take her out to the movies

And you knew that was my last penny

 

 

I hate you because you made me love her

I knew she was bad news 

But your ignorance caused you to tell me you
"felt something"

That's just adrenaline

You don't know the difference 

 

 

I hate you because you're a mousetrap

I am so careful with you 

And you bite me every time

I have the broken fingers to show for it

 

 I hate you because you make me cry and lash out

You won't tell me why you torture me

Because you're a heart

You can't talk

And that's a good thing

Because I know I would hate what you would say 

 

 

I hate you because you've hardened 

To the point where every time you pump you crack 

Break apart

And that hurts me too 

Not that you care 

 

 

I hate you because I don't understand you 

And I don't want to 

Because if I did 

Sundays would be filled with more trips to the Emergency Room 

And there would be far less pens 

 

 

I hate you because you are so distant

Always off chasing some fantasy 

And if you knew how many people have left me 

Maybe you would stick around more

And maybe I wouldn't choke you to death because of my pain 

 

 

I hate you because that's easy

And I haven't had that in a while

 

 

I hate you because it keeps me safer

 

 

I hate you because your tear smeared the ink
Now I can't read that last line

I know it was good 

 

 

I hate you so much and I wish you would hate me back 

Then we would have something to talk about
Then I could feel something from you
Then we could have one thing in common

 

 

I Don't Need To Explain Myselt But I Will

I'll play my music loud so that I won't have to hear the tears running down my cheeks
So that your pity for me won't reach those drums in my head
Those cylinders I walk by but sometimes lose track of because I was always a guitar player and drums were so foreign

So when I trip up and I stumble
Just remember that blood makes things rust too
And the fluid leaking from my head is part blood and part dirt
Dirt from the gardens I never planted
From the walls of the school that push me against the students

They yell at me with their eyes and crush me with their thoughts
All I can think is
"I am sorry you were in my way"
And then I'll slip out into the winter air

I love the cold air because that's the most concrete thing in my life right now
The way my hand goes numb as I hold it out the car window
That's real
None of the empty promises of companionship have ever been fulfilled
Not one
And I am beginning to wonder if it's the person or their feelings that are fake
Or maybe just the whole English language

I write for others but mostly for me
Though my words be made of lead they have never felt less impactful
And I am starting to wonder if the lead would be put to better use in the form of a bullet

In a place with 2,000 human it's still hard to find good company
The company that will laugh for you when your cheeks are too tired
The kind you pay for with the scars on the bottom of your feet

The kind that let's you play your music loud
And knows that your just tired of hearing lies
The kind that will send you headphones on weekends
Because headphones never lie

A place of solitude

Today is the first trip into a new mindset
Riding on two wheels of teenage rebellion and loss of identity the clots in my brain seem to break apart
Allowing a better flow of blood to the dying parts of my mind
The trees all seem to lean in closer to me, almost bowing towards me the further I get into the woods
Like millions of intravenous tubes filling me with the spirits of the forest inhabitants

I was born in a cement building with more technology than open arms
Id like to call the wilderness my real birthplace
Because here I feel like I have been made whole
Because up in the mountains I feel like I actually belong
Away from drive lawn mowers and heated seats
Far from bleeding ears and a lack of earplugs
The only harsh words I hear are the ones my own mind entertains
And lately I have become quite the jester

Trading in my electric stove and running water for clean air and beds made of grass
A bed I can actually get a good nights rest in

I have been walking for five years
Living for three
Dying for eight
And rationalizing everything I have done this past year
Seventeen years of stubbed toes from running into the walls and steel toed boots of others
After all this time I still haven't earned my first aid merit badge

In the wilderness' first dictionary of nature, there exists no word "wall"
Walls were made to keep things away
Out among the stars the only thing that needs to be kept at bay are the evil thoughts dancing in your head
The ones that can only be burned away

Each fire grows a bit brighter
As my conversations become longer and longer the trees become more willing to sacrifice themselves for my warmth
Long lost poems and pictures I've made pay tribute to their kind deeds
Living on in sparks and smoke stained clothes their spirits will never be torched away

In the outdoors one can act deliberately
Whether they choose to live, love, or die
The deer and squirrels have never been known to ostracize

The only judgeful eyes in nature are the ones on the back of your head
The ones who care what others think
The ones not yet cured by the smoke of many fires

Death the Human Dance

People come and go
Gracing us with an opportunity to share in their precious time
It is a sad time when we have to say goodbye
A time filled with red eyes
Quivering lips
Wet handkerchiefs
Open arms and some closed ones too

We don't get to choose how or when people leave
But we can choose how they will be honored
By numbers on our helmets
On mine
By tattoos on out hearts
By ink and tear stained pages
By words uttered to the air where they now sleep

Id like to imagine the hairs on the back of my neck
As monitors to their presence
Id like to imagine each falling leaf a product of their fingers running across this earth
I imagine rain am accumulation of the sorrow they feel
Because maybe some of them are still lonely
Because even death isn't the cure-all we hoped it was

I have empty chairs in my home as an invitation
And that's why I "talk to myself in the library"
It's why I spend so much time on the couch
It's why I keep these resting places clean

Death is something I can't quite say I am acquainted with yet
Despite my more than finger count friends who are

Death is cold
Death is imminent
But I'll dance until it catches me in a faltering step