Compromised Focus

Screaming in basements to avoid being heard,

Typing out thoughts so patience doesn’t have to be tested,

It’s all become so routine;

Figuring out how to make the loudest noise yet remain concealed

In an absent-minded and loud world.

Exhausted at the resonance of criticism,

Flattened by the glare of chosen ignorance,

My disdain for sleep is tested by my stronger desire to avoid people.

While my body will be in far worse pain if I lay down uselessly,

It’s better than the pain of being surrounded by people

whose interactions feel like they’re done out of duty rather than hospitality.

Why believe you’re in a group when the people make you feel lonely?

Why sit next to someone who seems as though they’re deaf to your voice only?

I’m confused as to what relationships are actually supposed to do,

Especially since people seem to favor conversations on screens involving icons and abbreviations,

Rather than human engagement and sound.

Why should I see you in person when I can see you just fine on my phone screen?


Don’t waste your touch You won’t feel anything

 

 

New Versions of Old Ideas

You can only talk to yourself for so long,

No matter what could be the topic burning in your brain;

It’s far more exhausting sometimes just keeping track on your train of thought,

Than even the most awkward of interactions with others.

There is something about it though,

That glare of another persons eyes;

Burning through your back,

A look so familiar & yet unique for every situation.

Sometimes it’s a look of disdain or disgust,

It also could simply be a look of shock or listlessness.

But it sometimes just feels like the no vacancy sign is on worldwide,

And the only room for you is inside;

Inside your own head.

And you’d never think it could,

But it just might;

Now the one who wants to throw you out,

The one who doesn’t want you around is yourself.

Resign or Refine?

It’s all pretty simple.

Although, that’s only in word

where simplicity is found.

Ultimately, it’s a choice only oneself can make.

Just remember, that when you start to think you know;

You don’t.

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Vicious Awareness

In the midst of the storm,

I see the fog very clearly;

But the fog is all I see,

And my sight may as well be as clouded as the world before me.

Evidently my understanding is lacking,

At least personally if not fully;

But I must digress.

I appreciate that the weather can be inconsistent,

It’s one of the few inconsistencies in life that I’ve learned to enjoy.

Assistance unwanted is typically the first offered,

Or that’s what I’ve discovered occurs most often.

I’d rather not display more jadedness,

In the midst of our society that seems to at time thrive on it;

But the charade of being mute has lost its thrill.

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Together, We’re Alone

Singled out,

Among friends & yet pigeonholed.

It’s not that I mind or that it’s even difficult,

But the desire to be with someone isn’t easily stopped.

If anything,

I hate how much I desire to feel the loneliness I already know to be encompassing.

Feelings that aren’t shared are my speciality,

Life unrequited takes less effort than expected.

Every night of nothing has suddenly become a memorial to mundaneness.

Shaky hands & noodle like arms,

Legs that are trying to run & eyes that can look everywhere but straight ahead;

Words are something I’m officially not sure of how to use.

Rows of chairs are nice because distance is implied from the start,

But when a couch feels as long as football field;

Sometimes sitting seems like more torture than anything.

And I’ve realized after many meals alone,

These times have been chosen rather than fate;

For those we’ve lost in this mortal coil,

Are often the best of company for food or a drink.

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Letting the Devil out

I won’t apologize for what I’ve already done or am currently doing,

But I’ll admit that if my conscience can catch me;

Somewhere in my future may be an apology.

Whatever label you want to put on it;

The devil, darkness, evil, hatred, etc.

All the pieces of you & I we try to forget or silence,

All of the fork tongued speech that draws response for deaf ears;

Blind leading eyes & a rough body propelled forward by a cold heart.

Justice is depicted as blind,

But I have a feeling malice has its eyes wide open.

The sad thing is this sight is not in order to recognize the outcome of hate,

But it enables a crooked worldview to seem straight.

Black & white definition have little to no endurance,

When it comes to understanding darkness & light;

There are grand imitations & humbling complexity of & in both,

And so the defining line is thinned out even more.

Good or bad,

It isn’t that simple.

Are we willing to seek an awakening & warmth again, or have we already surrendered to a life beating away from an old & cold heart?

———————————————————————————————————————

Exploratory Surgery

Sometimes my mind is so congested with speech,

I wish I could hire a surgeon to slice it open;

As if my thoughts could just be filtered out that simply,

Or maybe not even filtered but rather released.

Amidst the breaking morning light & fatigues blurry sight,

I reach out similar to a blind man,

Feeling the darkness in order to sense a lightness of being.

Children are often scolded as they put themselves in danger,

But what if they’re reminding us to be curious again?

Of course, we should protect those we care about;

But what if in the times of danger,

They’re doing the main thing they can to call out the good in the unknown?

What if they’re reminding us that our enslavement to fear is voluntary?

—————–

Stream of Consciousness 4/10/15

Blindfolded & carried away,

Deathly afraid & hoping this is all a nightmare I’m soon to wake from;

It sometimes seems the more understanding I gain,

The more confusing that which is my every day life becomes.

I begin wheezing,

Mind racing like a sports car with a cinder block on the gas pedal;

Only to realize the fear,

as with most fear realistically,

Is both irrational & irrelevant.

Changes can be overwhelming,

But are very needed.

Having little to no idea what is on the horizon has become normal;

It’s something I try earnestly to be grateful for,

But on the days when my heart resembles that of a time bomb

it’s difficult to have gratitude.

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