Rant

I can’t find a single bit of sense in this past year. But when has there ever been sense in life? Everything is just random, and even when everything seems to be going smoothly and is “in place”, you can’t expect it to stay that way. Happiness is taken so you have to fight for it back. You lose yourself to fight for that back, too. It’s all just a game, a test of strength and character. You’re thrown into a ditch for absolutely no reason and have to learn to climb your way out somehow. And somehow you always do. But just because you get yourself to a good place again doesn’t mean it stops there. You think you’re done evolving, but I’ve learned growth never has an end. There will always and forever be challenges; things that bring your life to a hault and make you ask, “why the fuck is this happening?” Breakups, deaths, financial turmoil, failures, natural disasters; basically any unwanted change. If you have a heart and you choose to use it, any of these things can easily happen and turn your life upside down. But other things can easily happen. Falling in love, having a baby, getting your dream job, traveling to that place you were dying to see, or even finally being comfortable in your own skin. The cliché that life is like a roller coaster is stupidly true. There are points when we feel so anxious and excited and happy and scared all at the same time. There are points when we come falling down and our stomachs drop and we don’t know what to expect next. And there are points when we just let go and enjoy the craziness. It’s all a mess. It can be beautiful. It can be hell. It can be routine. It can be content. All I know is if you find yourself in one of those unwanted situations, let yourself feel pain but don’t ever stay there. Promise yourself that the crying and isolating and mistrust in the world is only temporary. Because all of those other beautiful things that can happen are still out there waiting for you, they’re just making sure you’re ready. It’s like when you’ll let yourself have a bowl of ice cream, but only after you go make yourself go to the gym. You know you can find happiness again, but get yourself strong first, no matter how long it takes. Nothing makes sense and it never will, so I’m trying my best to embrace that rather than be afraid of it.

Hotel Books Poetry

So inspired by this project I discovered, “Hotel Books”. It’s spoken-word poetry accompanied by ambient music.

Sometimes I feel like some sort of gold being.
I’m some sort of metal that only has purpose
When someone needs something.
People wouldn’t chase after me if it wasn’t for greed,
If it wasn’t for the purchasing of some sort of peace.
My hopes and dreams are put on display for all to see,
But under heat, they bend, they bleed.
Maybe you couldn’t tell, this was once beautiful.
It’s pure gold, just covered in black ink,
Covered in the charcoal colored remains of ashes
From the last time something burned me.
But baby, I can be something you need,
So bend me in that fire until I fit a shape
That can offer you some sort of utility.

I’m Sorry

You loved me

And I loved that

But I didn’t love you back
 
I loved him

He might have loved me

But I’ll never know that
 
You gave me your heart

Mine was miles away

With someone else
 
I let you kiss me

I didn’t feel a thing

I hated myself
 
Do you miss me?

I still miss him

His art hangs upon my wall
 
You loved me

And I loved another

I never really loved you at all

Long Distance

It hurts

That I can’t find the words to express this

That I’ve become such a mess from this

That there’s nothing I can do

What hurts

Is that days turn into weeks and months

And you’re still the only one I see myself with

But you probably have no clue

That it hurts

Not knowing when I’ll see you next

In my head, you are my future plans

In your head are things I wish I knew

Damn, this hurts

I want you more than want itself

I would give anything to see you now

I would die if you found someone new

Hurting hurts

But the pain is there to show us

That some people are worth all of this

Some people, just like you
(Another older one – probably from May)

The Atlantic

An ocean comes between us,

A big blanket of blue,

If the ocean were to dry up,

I’d take that barren path

To get to you.

Or maybe I can build a boat

Out of my broken little soul,

Night and day I’ll sail away,

Your eyes are the lighthouse

I’ll use to guide me home.

I envy all the fools

That see you but don’t care,

If I just had wings, I’d fly forever,

No map or compass needed,

Your love would get me there.

I look to the sky above me,

A big blanket of blue,

When you look to the sky

Know that I’m across the ocean

Plotting how to get to you.

(Something I wrote months ago that I forgot about)

Deadly October

(Not nearly done but)

Why do I talk to the sky,

When I know you’re not an angel?

You would’ve spit in God’s face

If he let you in the gates

Because grandpa touched you

And you always prayed

But He never saved you

So I lay face down

In the dirt

Talk to the worms

Dig my fists in the earth

Because I wish

That promises weren’t just words

You promised it would be okay

You promised no more hurt

But I used to watch you

Lay in graveyards

And beg to be next

I absorbed your pain

Like a weak little sponge

You wanted death

You made me want it too

How hypocritical of you

You were a fine example

Of how life is a sick joke

I wanted to choke hearing

“Don’t cry honey,

I love you”,

Slurred through every word

“I love you” meant

“You’re a burden”

Because I still found bottles

Behind every curtain

If I could go back

I’d smash every last one over my head

Maybe you’d kiss me then

But only to savor the poison

That you needed so bad

Even now I wait for your pat on the back

To roll over and look up

And find your eyes

Twinkling like stars above

For you to tell me

“I’m better now,

Catch me up on everything”

But whenever I feel a touch

It’s not you

Just a fallen leaf

Or something in the breeze

A subtle reminder

That this time of year

Is deadly

Life became too much

That October

Eight years later

And I still find myself face down

Letting the foliage bury me

Romanticizing the Rain

I love the way rain sticks to glass, trapping me in this dim, silent room.

I try to look out, but I only see droplets dancing across my window.

And in the distance tree branches quarrel with wind gusts.

I can almost feel the chill, touching my curious toes as they creep out from under the warm comfort.

Tires kiss wet pavement, and the clouds cry a little harder for me.

Because they know how easily their tears can lull me back to sleep.