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.

————————————————————–

Half a Heart from a Whole Mess

Call it enlightenment or the end of denial,

It doesn’t matter to me;

But I find the mouse on a wheel running in my mind named Overt Analysis,

Is the primary cause of my depression as of late.

Identity;

it’s defined as consisting of many things & very few simultaneously,

It just depends who you ask about it.

In a society where most are more comfortable with truth being based on relativity,

As opposed to any sort of evidence or facts;

What do you expect?

Then again, I’m the one who thought my life would change “magically”

during my adolescence if I changed my name;

Because I had & still have a hard time identifying with or feeling as though I belong in my family of origin.

Biting my own white knuckles,

Suddenly the chokehold is looser;

Breathing is painful,

But only because I often forget to not hold my air in.

Nature thankfully has unsettling ways of reminding you about the importance of order.

I’ve heard people say they’re ready to die,

But I often wonder if it’s only because their afraid to live?

If they think being alive is just too burdensome;

If the grey in their eyes has become too strong a haze for their intrinsic light to break.

Oddly though, we often forget that we have some control & often more than we like to admit over our thoughts.

When you get caught in a dangerous water current,

It’s hard to make it back to shore;

But the irony of a lot of people who don’t make it,

Is that they were often warned before.

I used to chase after people who I thought ran away,

But it turned out;

At least with some,

They just didn’t ever learn how perceive when to go or when to stay.

When to shut up & walk away,

When to speak out.

Is anyone out there?

I used to scream that I didn’t care,

Mainly because it was unfair to admit

that I cared for many I later learned just didn’t want me to.

I don’t limit my caring any less,

For better or worse these days;

I’m just not so quick to voice it,

Or make it known.

After all, voicing cares & concerns to a faithless & careless audience;

Is equivalent in usefulness to yelling for help at a center for the deaf.

—————————————————————————————–

My Ashes

Reinvention of ones self;

A concept that sounds grand,

& yet can be so necessary

that it ends up being underwhelming.

It’s as if a time of change,

As something that is constantly avoided like the plague by some;

Is the most revered & hated time of a life all at once,

While also the one that often offers endlessly limited options.

Confusion is expected but all the same frustrating.

Possibilities or options taking form in a time of change,

Must often be something of our own creation;

We are given the power to choose to intentionally change,

And not just settle for an impending result

but rather allowed to participate in securing the best results.

If only the sometimes cultural as well generational escapist,

known as Effort,

Wouldn’t be so often found to be MIA or in a complete state of lack.

As I aim to slow down,

That I may sustain myself for the days & phases to come;

I realize that by slowing down,

I’m actually allowed to somehow move faster.

It’s only when I run the marathon,

rather than pacing,

That I find myself incapacitated & left with nothing.

But for now I will allow myself a time of stillness,

Not inactivity per se;

Just a needed release of control,

& reminder of my true nature as a finite & limited being.

——————————————————————-

Ancient Hate

Your words seem as hollow as your personality,

Trying to converse with you is like forcibly vomiting.

Nothing but nonsense is produced by you,

Yet it only makes sense that you’d live as a victim.

Always innocent no matter how guilty,

Always right even in the clearest time of wrongdoing.

You see our relationship like a vase you broke as a child;

All you need is super glue or maybe some duct tape,

And everything will be fine.

I, on the other hand;

See our relationship as nothing more than a funeral pyre,

Waiting to be set ablaze.

After all this time,

You wonder why I haven’t forgotten the way you have;

But you never bother see any scars except your own.

I don’t even want to own a home per se,

I just want some sort of sense of home.

An atmosphere or feeling,

However it should be worded,

Of something I’ve only known as illusive & fickle.

This may be an old story but unfortunately it’s a part of me.

———————————————————————————————

Awakened by Apathy, Surprised by Salvation

I step onto dung encrusted pavement,

All my senses aside from taste are assaulted simultaneously.

I begin my usual, almost redundant, & predictable walk;

A walk of streets that for some inspire fear & anxiety

others are inspired to hunger for power & respect.

My main hunger as I walk these streets is typically either for food or to not be noticed.

On days where I’m noticed,

I have various choices.

I honestly speak & interact with whomever I encounter

resulting in mixed reactions ranging from pleasant to angry;

Or I can act ignorant & blind,

Either choosing to act as though I’m afraid of the tough talkers

or acting as though I don’t see the atrocities that keep these streets busy.

Sometimes I think so much that I wait for my brain to explode,

But the bomb never goes off;

And neither does my mind.

It just keeps running these marathons of contemplation;

Like a cocktail of aggravation & meditation.

It’s truly ironic & strange how we often embody what we hate,

Better to see the irony though before it’s too late;

It’s about taking time not some stupid concept of fate.

This is a call to people who actually think;

Next time you complain about a character trait or habit you don’t like,

Step back & take a look at yourself.

——————————————————————————————–

When looking to make changes(really of any kind), please as tempting as it is; don’t begin to think you can do it completely alone.