Years Better Erased than Written

I have enough words to tell you I don’t have anything to say,

Not now and not ever again.

 

What’s the point?

What does it matter?

Does anyone actually value being literate,

Or is it merely a convenience?

 

Buried in megapixels,

Whored out for micro SDs,

If only you had a brain.

 

For the fact that change has occurred,

Life remains the same;

Yet because hardly anything is the same,

It’s only then we recognize there has been any change.

 

D          I         E


 

 

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

 

 

Shut Down

128 days since I’ve scrawled along a line or 2,

Enough numbers though but do I really have the words?

This has been the question I’ve asked myself for years now,

I have these desires but do I have the materials that are required to create?

Am I just hacktivist of the English language,

A mere blasphemer of the religion that is Context.

 

Enough with the feathery language.

Enough has been a common word in my mind lately.

I don’t really know why,

But even while I have occasional desires

it seems like I’ve reached the point of oversaturation with many things.

 

Many dates and ways of traveling can be had in life,

But will we actually go?

Is fear or possible confusion worth your time?

I say just grab the duffle and boarding pass,

And forget about the ground below until you get to wherever is the final stop.

 

I thought I was lost recently,

But I realized that being found isn’t something that is always desirable.

Among personalities both familiar and new,

You occasionally hide who you might be.

Although I’ve become more skilled at hiding from myself

it seems,

Rather than hiding from others.

I blurt out facts of intimate knowledge early into the process of getting know one another,

And before I know it horror has overtaken the possibility of friendship or even camaraderie.

But is this something to be troubled by or looked at as a helpful process of preventing time invested into a pointless relationship?

This question continues to paralyze and excite me, with each social situation I encounter.

The worst part about questions, though,

Is that we sometimes find the answer.

————————————

 

 

Kneel & Disconnect

Entranced by familiarity once despised,

Not because anything likeable has been found;

But because your visceral feelings are now faded memories.

Vacant.

Empty and cold.

Only the debris remains.

Damaged Departures,

wishing it could’ve been done secretly.

Arriving while absent,

Overwhelmed by a flood of emotions with more hate than ever before

while remaining too exhausted to care.

My mind and the sky are twins today;

Cloudy, dark, and unwilling to change.

It’s been 3 months now,

And there is no time limit in sight;

However, implications of a grave future are melodramatic at best.

Adjustments are needed,

Continued change is somehow stunted but looking possible to start again;

The way we thought it was “back then”,

When things were “exactly how they should be”.

What a damned, filthy lie that was.

I could say I’m out of options,

But what would that do or say of my character?

I could wait for something “to happen”;

But that languorous state of being has brought me to this present moment.

“Where do I start?”, some might say.

Just start from exactly where you are at this moment,

Keep going,

And don’t stop until you arrive …

Somewhere, as long as it is not here.


 

 

 

 

 

 

Choices: Arrival & Departure

Words, for close to a year now;

Have been nearly impossible to find.

A paragraph of personal writing seemed to require an act of God,

But considering all existence is an act of God in and of itself;

I guess, it’s not as grand of a challenge as first imagined.

My mortality is the one thing giving me peace at the moment,

A world of difference from the anxiety it has provided historically.

 

Where or what I call home is officially immaterial,

And I’m grateful.

I’ve experienced things I thought always wanted recently,

Under circumstances I would’ve never chosen,

And yet I’m ready to let it all go.

To move on and have it exist merely as a memory.

Timing is still sensitive though,

That will never change.

And I’m grateful for this as well,

For it helps my reason keep on fighting my impulses quite well.

Onto another year of life,

Filled with questions and possibly not many answers

But who says that is anything to be upset about?

Another year, that I will gladly live one day at a time and no more.

———————————————————

Morning Oration

No matter how it is presented,

Or how it is supposedly justified,

Hypocrisy is one of the ugliest human traits.

 

So, what do you do when you’re the hypocrite?

The filth and poison being released into the world,

Is a burden you’re responsible for creating.

I knew most any trust I’d even imagined to possessing had been broken,

But I didn’t intend to forget what trust was altogether.

Unfortunately, I believe it happened because it just made things easier.

 

When the face you hate seeing most is your own,

You look only when required;

And make haste otherwise.

I’ve really done it this time,

And this is the oddity of mistakes.

Whence you’ve recognized you’ve lost your way,

It doesn’t always mean you need to discover a new path.

You may have run out of all resources possible to have and need to rest,

You may backtrack and seemingly digress;

But never, should you ever, give up and surrender.

 

I want to desire to trust others again,

But I believe must learn how to trust myself first.

How and why should I expect to trust people I’m around occasionally,

If I can’t be bothered to trust the person I am and will be for all time?

————————————————————

 

Drain Me

You couldn’t pay me to write as of late,

I’ve been blaming a lack of motivation;

A lack of desire,

and at times a lack of much to write.

But it’s honestly at the point,

Where I know it’s not because of lack.

It’s because of the excess,

The surplus in my day to day;

The excess of work,

The excess of isolating and limiting depression,

The overwhelming loose fingered grip I feel upon myself.

 

I keep crashing,

Only to need to wake up moments after;

Or at least that’s how my weary head sees it in this foggy existence.

———–