Him

poetry, Uncategorized

His smiles so bright, a comfort I cannot describe
Like the fumes from gasoline, rearing me into a high
But ultimately, I know, he’ll do nothing but harm
And I’ll float down from cloud 9 right into his shadowy arms

His eyes so relaxing, a calmness like the sea
But the deeper I look into them, the harder it is to breathe
And as the waves push me further from the land I desire
I am slowly dragged downwards into his underwater empire

His hands filled with warmth, a touch that sends shockwaves through my veins
But you can never have lightning, without the undeniable rain
And as I look around for shelter, I’m surrounded by trees
The biggest bait to nature’s electric masterpiece

Once the storm has calmed, and I lye drenched and afraid
From nowhere, there he is, carrying an umbrella with my name
I smile because he came, even though it was too late
And I fall back into the cycle, because somehow, it is worth the rain.

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9 Lives

poetry, Uncategorized

Curiosity killed the cat
But the cat had nine lives
After curiosity was fulfilled
Lust ran through his mind
He explored the neighbourhood
In search for pussy of his kind
Then promiscuity killed the cat
But the cat had eight more lives
So the cat learned from his mistakes
And left his cravings behind
After being scarred from desire
All he ever had was time
He chewed the fur around his nails
The cat knew he needed a vice
So he chose alcohol to kill the memories
but his organs paid the ultimate price
So Jack Daniel’s killed the cat
But the cat had seven more lives
So he went on an adventure
For himself, he wanted to find
But he was not prepared
And the people were not kind
So the cold took hold,
As he slept beneath the pines
Hypothermia killed the cat
But the cat had six lives left
The only option to being broke
Was resorting to theft
So his stomach became full
But his criminal record was next
Cops snatched him up
In his self-twined net
Prison killed the cat
But the cat had five lives left
Once he got out,
He had to make up for lost time
But employers turned him away
And his family was unkind
So all he had left
Were gangs with coloured cloths
So he bought himself a gun
And his first deal got him shot
So a pistol killed the cat
But the cat had four more lives
Scarred from brain to toe
He couldn’t keep dying inside
His head ran in circles
Searching for something he couldn’t find
A cycle unbroken unless he finally called it quits
So he stepped atop the 50-foot ledge
And stared down at his bliss
He squinted his eyes shut with a smile on his face
As he released all his tension, his balance lead the way
Until the final fall, the cat had good intentions
Bribed by societies need for ascension
Sanity was all the cat had kept
But none of it matters,

Because the cat has 0 lives left.

Just another post about anxiety

Thoughts

Even when the path I walk upon is exactly what I’ve been searching for; one which can open into a wide road filled with signs leading the way, I still find a reason to stop dead in my tracks. I am somehow attracted to trails surrounded by quick sand and land mines. They never end up killing me, just leave a few wounds that can make a person squint in disgust.

Even if the rough soles of my converse step onto a path of soft silk with fields of open space and hazy pink skies, nothing will seem real. I end up looking around and around; over the hills and under rocks, sometimes forcefully stubbing myself on the pines of an evergreen as an excuse to run the other way. Maybe rip out the begonias to dissect their roots for something, anything to make me think this is too good to be true.

And as I play the world’s worst treasure hunt, I find myself lost again. I end up straying too far from the path and lose my sense of direction. Lonely, lost and looking for a new path. One of decency and comfort, but nothing better than what I think I deserve.
The only problem is,
Being lost is starting to feel more comforting than following a path.