Death and I, we aren't friends
wait I've already used the line
saved it for another time
to what end would it be
for it to be repeated again
back to back like I have to buddy to help me attack
but I have nothing to gain
so let's begin anyway
All day, running in the background
walks the images, b-roll horror films
writing in my head
putting myself in a dirt bed
listing all the grim designs where I can be found
like firing off a gun inside my head
pull the trigger while it's in my ear
feel my equilibrium disintegrate
as my consciousness fades
while my brownish shade faints and loses color
and all of the noise in my mind finally lowers
but the question it poses
"Do you have the stones to throw a stone at your own glass house"
to which I will always respond no
Firearms kill and destroy innocent lives daily for little justification
while the ramifications always seem to vary
so I remain wary to downright detest
instruments that take life away
Then to sneak in from the shadows
whispers like a thief in the night
goes the voices too dark to see
"why not tie a bed sheet around your neck, wrap it thrice around the ceiling fan above where you sleep to stop the restless dreams"
to that i respond, no
my ceiling is too low and even standing on my toes
I can touch the top if I reach far enough
So creeping through the music drowning out the annoyances
of the everyday world
another wave of hate carries on
another wave of self loathing washes over, saying
"It's cold and icy on the roads
worry not, this second ice age
is a blessing in disguise
you just have to time it right
skate to left and forget to fight
try ro grip tight the freezing air
flail your arms here and there
stare at the ice and close your eyes
fall down for a big surprise
as hard as you can so you don't end up looking at the sky
show your pain and let your blood cry"
What is wrong with me
why am I planning out my own demise
maybe I should drown myself in cyanide
turn into frozen carbonite
block out the sun and listen to the night
close the blinds
echo into the pillow sad sighs and lullabies
to sing about all these overdramatic woes
Am I really qualified to sing about misery
how many women have said they love me
how many women have said they're in love with me
the same number flooding my inbox
which is to say only 2
but their hearts are taken, stolen
belonging to another
and not the heart I'm trying to chase
I've had my chance
and I would lose one more race
I wouldn't be able to even place
What a disgrace
The boy who matters wants to matter to those who chose to ignore
his presence, my essence
his confidence, my awkwardness
his approach, my attempts at romance
his common sense, my outstretched hand
Valentine's Day looms overhead
2 days away
fatal these days...fatal these days
that day is haunting
cigarettes are calling the asthma forth
and I don't even smoke
but I need the nicotine to numb me
or at the very least
warm these cold bones
that these bodies refuse to touch
All the coasts I wish to explore
on the shores of the ones I adore
leave me on the boat
to get washed away by a hurricane
as I cry like a goat
while they wave away me with their hand
Hasta Pronto
See you later, when they really mean see you again never
Don't mind me
I've got a yarn ball in my hands
and I'm just untangling one more thread

© Crowthepoet