scythe42
I want to kill something.
I want to rip its skin off quickly,
with a steady hand.
I want to do this quickly, precisely,
with as little blood as possible.
I want to stab something.
I want to injure something.
I want there to be no blood,
no mess. Just pain.
Just pain to stop me from
thinking like I am right now.
From thinking constantly
and worrying and wondering
and not knowing
and Uncertainty
Uncertainty
why can't I be Steady?
Why can't I be consistent?
Why can't I be the person
that everyone is.
Stable.
Fingernails in flesh
giving me peace
finally peace,
just feel the pain
feel the flesh, the indent,
the grounding of reality.
Steady.
Steady.
I am here.
Thoughts drown out like
tadpoles in the ocean,
waves of pain pulsing
under the skin,
just reminding me
to be Steady.
I just wish I could be.
We sat on the patio,
brownies in a pan
on my lap,
sitting in the sun
behind a cat.
Licking frosting off of fingers,
drinking lemonade.
What a sunny day.
I grab his face
and kiss his neck
and pull his hair down
from his skull
and bash his face into the window
five times or more
and wait until the glass
stops dripping blood
down his nose
in his eyes
from his mouth.
he wanted me to be angry
I became angry.
I don't think he appreciated the outcome.
I hate when plans
are not planned
and sentences
are not valid.
I hate when plans change
and they expect you to get
5 hours of sleep
and fucking go somewhere
you weren't fucking planning on going
this weekend
this month
this year
this decade
and you have to leave
and you are angry
because they're making you leave
and no one ever wants to leave a place
that's warm and comforting
and has all of your friends
where you can talk to your friends
and not be bored
and not go crazy
and not need to play the cello
and you can just relax
and write poem after poem
of the plans you have for yourself
in the future.
cognitive dissonance
"i don't fucking give a shit
about supporting my fucking teammates"
ha.
Funny.
Calm songs playing in
angry minds
and apathetic heart.
Wondering how to pull them down
flying
into a large building and
shatter their femur,
blind their eyes
so they can be
just as unaware of the world
as they already have been.
They'll just notice it this time.
You know what amazes me?
As I sit here reading
articles about video games
and thinking about
buying neutral colored shirts
and shorts,
how someone can
walk down the street with their
heels clicking past them
and their skirts flowing
and have the world
take them seriously.
With loads of make up
on their faces
smiling like they don't have
anything better to do
than roll in the grass
down a hill,
jump rope
on the driveway.
How are they going
to be taken seriously?
their high pitched voices
will seem like a nuisance
and laughter will follow them,
yells and cat calls
driving past them.
Will they be heard?
I sit in my comfort zone
enjoying the view
from the inside,
glass window
women walking by
waving hi.
How will women
ever be taken seriously?
He mentioned the last time I saw him.
I was sitting on a bench,
watching the sunset,
as he walked away from me,
whistling like
nothing was wrong,
backed up his car and hit the road.
I didn't see him
for years.
I hope he got better,
improved his life,
got his shit together.
I don't think
I'll ever hear from him again,
I hate when lecturers
lecture me
like i wasn't even listening,
duct tape my mouth
so as to not ask any
dumb questions.
And sometimes I would
write my notes and
draw dragons on the side,
breathing fiery knowledge
at my side,
giving me words to
spit back at the people who
think children don't
think,
children just lie
and lie around,
don't even hear
adults, the sound
flowing through their
cerebral spinal fluid.
Lecturing works,
they say,
lecturing works
because children need to sit still,
don't question,
sit still and listen
to everything that comes out of adults
because adults are right.
Don't think critically,
don't be ridiculously
thinking that's alright, to question
authority.
Authority is for you to listen to
and everything else
is just background noise.
I haven't brushed my teeth
for two days,
but this music
tastes like mint chocolate chip ice cream
and meaningful conversation
in a slurry of realizations.
Words don't come so easily
to me.
Crossroads taking me
somewhere,
afraid it's nowhere,
but life will keep moving me along,
as will infinity.
I'm petrified that
something bad could happen
along the way,
driving my home
home.
I might drop off my
senses
before I get there,
lose carelessness
I never had,
never let go of
time constraints
and always close
the window panes.
But this song
feels like infinity,
and words might finally
mean something.
I think i have
the plague.
It is growing inside me
like a watermelon seed,
but it's only for
female humans,
eating away at intestines,
at my heart
and my lungs
and I cannot breathe
I am drowning
drowning
from the past
and the blackness
of my future
as it envelopes me
into looking into
glass nothingness.
My reflection does not stand
but walks away from me,
shaking her head,
tears licking the floor
as she slips away from me.
And I want to know,
where did she go?
what do I do
now.
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writing since 1969 · 196 entries · 187 days shown up
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