It's Easy

Discussion in 'Poet's Corner' started by wallflower, Jul 26, 2007.

Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.
  1. wallflower

    wallflower Well-Known Member

    Things are too easy
    Here in this house
    I'm not afraid, I'm too tired
    No need to be let out.
    I'm fed and I'm washed
    Bathed to the bone
    The people here watch me
    They wont leave me alone.
    I'm shedding my clothing
    He's touching my chest
    I need to be leaving
    Can't seem to get rest.
    I want something else though
    Outside it's too cold
    You wanted to see me
    Stripped, defiant, head low.
    I said no but they told me
    I had to say yes, the therapist
    scolded me, I would not confess.
    I slept in a room where
    The light wouldn't come
    In the corner I wept for
    At least just someone.
    He laughed when I lay there
    Alone in my room
    He took off my gown and
    Said I wasn't even human.
    They said I was low class,
    An ignorant child
    She wanted me to be less
    Catatonic, less resolved,
    I slept in the basement
    I slept on the floor
    I wanted a friend but
    Bent down on all fours
    Just one little pill will
    Give you your dignity but
    ...We're no longer helping her
    Now give me back my sanity.
  2. wallflower

    wallflower Well-Known Member

    The Queen

    I scratched the writing off the walls... in a doomed existence- the kind of doom that kills itself to taste the pleasure of pain...the kind of doom that loves to drain itself just to be refilled. I was in my dirty jeans and t-shirt at the mall, walking through painted houses and plastic nicotine whores, with hipbones that fit into their bikini loving lover's jeans.

    I want to wear those hipbones- and parade around a nicotine drug infested lullaby, have things make sense in this drifted half-ass earth. A circle in the sky, a fucking dot on a piece of paper, I cant see outside myself, only these dots on the walls- the flies being rotted by spiders- the decaying moss outside your fingernails, itching to chew off the part of me that once was so different from someone...maybe me maybe you-

    I want to -drown- really -drown- and then float up into this haze of stars- where polluted ashtrays orbit the heavens with the molecules that made us into pasted white skeletons on dirty white sidewalks. The little chemicals are everything, every chew, every little bit of dust- every gram of sugar- infested, injected- I've taken your heroin, and it poisoned my veins, I was a zombie- full of mediocre

    dreams that fell short after a long pause. but they kept feeding it to me, and I paid you your money and you fed me more and more until your pockets were larger than your gut. I couldn’t, only i wanted to sleep away the pain- away the tragedies.
    I wanted to forget the feelings, of light being shined into your eyes when your half unconscious- and then to be forgotten, to drift like a meaningless starfish in this crystal sea...but i cant take them anymore, i need something wrong- i need half of you and half of me. this dopamine, this dopamine that's been dragging me down, suck me dry of it- take it all away until i do not

    think anymore. Im suicidal with vengeance. you don’t understand. the way the curve of your mouth intrigues me, the way your eyelashes turn me on...the way your system worries me, and makes me dig my nails into my wrists because i dont know what to do- when i cant read anymore and no one is looking into my eyes and seeing- that Im blind. I took too many, i took a thousand, a missed a week, i slept for a year-

    but it doesnt matter- ive been up for over a month zombified by your lies- isolated and treated like a rotting corpse for being a vegetable. im not in a coma, im a fucking human being laced with rotten purposes and half promises- no

    empty promises. you can take me for who i am, empty, apathetic, alone- shallow- im not here nor there- but please feed me this nicotine, so i can be waist thin, so i can be wasted, so that i can no longer be the wrong- thing that i am, i dont want beauty i want to be wrongly perfect...and kill myself in the process. i want my veins to burst and all the kerosene to spill from my veins and the illusions and the fairies floating in the basement to fall asleep so that i can admire their glittering eyes without knowing their distorted minds. Im a sick- sick sick sick
    manifestation ive been put through- the side effects of your diagnoses that never made sense. i want to hallucinate until all hallucinations cease and there is nothing but a lifeless comatose puppet floating in a sea of rainbow mist. i want this this this be endless, there's more to life than mitochondria and dust...but im living in the end of the universe- where the world has become

    we are taking over the world- we , me and all my missing personalities- the one that died, when i took your drug and flushed it down the toilet and found myself in another- do you know what that drug was?

    it was a chemical reaction, a synthesis, an explosion of molecules running, it was imagintion being let down by a substance that defeated its purpose than brought up by one that was the human fucking mind- but lets talk about knives and wrist

    slashing, anorexia, herion and dirty pretty jeans that i bought at Wal-Mart because they cost less. this dizziness is nauseating, why cant the PERFECT word be... yellow. If there was a God....shouldn't he take the power back from me? Shouldn't he be the King? Who should rule this trite existence, or am I the Queen?
  3. wallflower

    wallflower Well-Known Member

    He's walking down the road with his head down low
    In his hoodie hiding his stash of smokes
    The voices of yesterday tempt him but he carries on
    Knowing that today he'll meet his father on the train
    She's down on the floor, painting her nails with red
    Said I loved suicide but you're so much more than it
    The painful substances of it all, running through my hands
    I try to talk to my son, figure what it's all about
    But he doesn't seem to understand, silent monotonous doubt
    He just lays there still, with curled fingers and fading heart
    The trigger isn't in his hand, but he's still dead
    I'm hand in hand with the morning, we walk slowly out the door
    The voices of yesterday haunt my house no longer,
    It's easier to cry than to let these thoughts linger,
    The questions of possibilities, the love that we have longed for.
  4. wallflower

    wallflower Well-Known Member

    I have an open hand
    I'm here to save your land
    This is the promised land
    We do not need to kill
    It is the human need
    I dont want to bleed
    On my knees handcuffed
    The angels are crying
    I'm not even dying
    I have an open hand
    Can you give me a hand
    In this forsaken land
    I am on my knees
    I am asking you forgiveness
    I know you wanted more
    But I can only live for it
  5. The_Discarded

    The_Discarded Staff Alumni

    Whoa. Stark brilliance.

    Very moving pieces. xx
  6. wallflower

    wallflower Well-Known Member

    they're heard again, the mourning souls inside her mind. a voice once lost is undefined -a voice that kept herself alive- was it gone or was it still inside? the kind of thing you'd say was mine.
    she mourns for the decapitated- incarcerated in her shell. once a mind with sound and thought-misbehaving they repel. lives life without grey or white- just tucked inside a determined mind. a place you'd keep if it wouldn't have died. the mortality of a soul defined- a person lost inside a mind was mine.
    she wasn’t sure of wrong or right- kept theories wide and notions bright- wrote poetry of suicide. the morning blood came from the sky- when she could no longer speak nor sigh- when there was not a soul's reply- the mind's eye- did not reply. a world envisioned in a box- with keys and notes little bells and locks. was there a voice- no one could tell- no key to turn or ringing bell- then she was well and very well.
    Last edited by a moderator: Jul 28, 2007
  7. wallflower

    wallflower Well-Known Member

    they heard her speaking in her mouth- pulled on her tongue but no voice came out- still there she talked all day and night- no longer wrong but wrong was right. she never slept and never screamed- but kept her bottle for her dreams. the sun came up the moon was low- did no one hear the whispering blow?
    violence shatters peaceful lies- a human mind the soul defies- people stood and watched in line- to see the sky turn first black then white. a world wrapped in blankets and song- they say they're right- we know they're wrong. sorrow speaks the mind farewell- a heart cant beat, her skin's no cell- piece by piece and bit by bit, a voice became the culprit.
    Last edited by a moderator: Jul 28, 2007
Thread Status:
Not open for further replies.