I want to write you a poem - 6/3/07

I want to write you a poem
tell you how much that I hurt
make a list of all my sorrows
say our love was just a curse

I want to write you a poem
full of all the love I know
give you everything I hold inside
but the pain I would not show

I want to write you a poem
let you know just what you’ve done
leave you empty, knowing nothing
but the void I have become

I want to write you a poem
with all the love I could express
tell you all the secrets of my heart
all but my loneliness

I want to write you a poem
a thousand, if need be
but I just can’t decide
what’s in store for you and me

replacing love - 6/2/07

blood drips
crimson from my thigh
release –
such fake release
feeling nothing
and *slice*
still nothing

what happened
to the days
when a fingernail
driven deep
into the flesh
could satiate the void
replace numb
with controlled pain

now
numb and pain
are synonyms
life’s agonies enthrall
introduction to
this cruel game
where blood
replaces
love

Nothing. Just Pain. - 1/29/07

I hurt.
It’s as simple as that –
a pain no physician
could ever heal –
a broken heart –
a wounded soul –
a blood-stained, washed-up, maggot-ridden…
nothing.

I am you.
I am me.
I am her
and him
and it
and they
and them
and every pronoun you don’t know.
I’m that fool on the skateboard
with his long hair and braces,
pretending to be something he’s not –
someone he’s not –
something, anything more than nothing.
I’m that cigarette hanging from your mouth,
gripped between your orange fingers
and stained by your saliva.
I’m the dirt you step on
as you walk away from me,
your head held high
like you’ve got something to be proud of.
You don’t look back.
You never look back.
That’s my job, isn’t it?

So it’s that simple.
My role is cast –
nothing.

She asks what’s wrong.
She says she cares.
I can’t believe.
It doesn’t matter that I hurt.
You didn’t care –
why should she?
To you I was just nothing.
She asks what’s wrong.
I answer:
Nothing.

Nothing. - 1/28/07

It’s the simple things that make me wonder most –
the way that piece of paper feels between my fingers,
the smell of burning rubber from my furious erasing,
the taste of words on my lips –
Hate, Love, Misunderstanding –
Everything brings back a Memory –
purely semantic, not episodic.
I remember Nothing as it was,
just as it was inside my Mind –
the World outside exists not.
Misunderstanding to Misunderstanding
we read between the lines and come up short.
Without thought, we say what we really mean
and wish it wasn’t how we felt,
causing hurt and feeling pain.
There are more important things to do
than sit here feeling Nothing… Nothing…
Nothing at all.

Swear I'm better now - 12/7/06

Swear I’m better now
No more tears to cry
Swear I’ll never leave
I’ll never say goodbye

Pain inside can no more bear
Tears of love unknown, unshed

Swear that I’m okay
I cannot feel the pain
Swear it’s not a lie
I’ll never lie again

Fingers crossed, believe my lie
Ignore the tears behind my eyes

Swear that I am fine
No more blood to shed
Swear that I’m alive
Inside, I know I’m dead

Help me to survive my lie
Please, don’t leave me here to die

She sits in obscurity - 2004

She sits in obscurity
“No one knows the real me
No one knows the pain inside
No one sees the tears that I cry”
No one hears her
And no one knows
Of the pain she feels inside
She keeps it in
All bottled up
Until the pain draws out the knife
She slices her arm to let out a cry
A cry that no one hears
As the blood slowly drips from her face
It mixes with her tears
In a puddle of water and blood below
Her hand trembles as she places the knife
Slowly upon her skin
Slowly and surely she pulls it back down
As the blood drips to the ground
The pain on this outside
Cannot match the pain within