mybrainbile

[mybrainbile]

You throw dirt on me by the handful,

like it’s my funeral.

I close my eyes and feel it echo.

I wish we were preprogrammed to know how to let go.

I remember when you tried to plant flowers in me.

We’ve come full circle,

it’s like a garden you see.

You’ve taught me how to grow, in sunshine, drought, sleet, rain, or snow.

- afg

[mybrainbile]

October optimization,

in the name of childhood idealization.

We take the sun as it comes.

I teach you how to walk,

and you teach me how to run.

There is something beautiful about holding a bee and not being stung.

I will show you how to use your lungs.

There are so many words the world hasn’t sung.

You will see soon little one.

- afg

[mybrainbile]

There is less sadness in my madness,

a verification of the work that matters.

It doesn’t matter what I’d rather,

motivation on myself I slather.

There is a life built for me,

but it is my job to clear out the trees.

There is space to be free,

but only if from my old self,

I flee.

Didn’t you hear?

Good things come in threes

- afg

[mybrainbile]

A once sweet fruit rots as it rests against another,

contamination is a nasty way to be smothered.

Move yourself or you will plunder,

those around you should fill you with wonder.

- afg

[mybrainbile]

Large bouts of blistering inconsistencies,

stop worrying so much about history.

Nothing to ponder about but now:

do what you were made for and plow.

Desire is no mystery,

everyone wants something that exists distally.

You can’t disavow,

the way it would cure you to be here now.

Ram Dass highlights this spiritual dystrophy,

eyes open, but no electricity.

Things continue that are allowed:

make it simple, do what makes you proud.

- afg

[mybrainbile]

The way death smells;

is its largest tell,

I feel you are near.

The way it lingers;

on my knees, praying hands,

but I swear to God I smell it on my fingers.

Closely approaching,

telling myself I’m better off not hoping.

What’s next will surely be foreboding,

that stench is your last warning.

Eroding slowly,

this familiarity knows me.

Something down below,

postcards from Hell that read “Hello!”

Let’s forgo the formalities,

sometimes exhaustion comes from my own morality.

I preform past my capacities,

from too much recognition of tragedy.

- afg

[mybrainbile]

I thought escaping it was everything,

then came my second reckoning.

Here I heard life beckoning,

and somehow my brain convinced me it was threatening.

Once you’re free shouldn’t it be refreshing?

Why did the power I fought for stare back at me menacingly?

Why don’t you just take it by the throat readily?

Stuck inside myself something hellishly.

-afg

[mybrainbile]

Habitually swallowing half spoken words.

Communication? That’s for the birds.

I go to open my mouth, but I’d rather eat dirt.

Why does saying what I mean always hurt?

Maybe that’s what makes me the worst,

incapable of being overt,

not meaning to cause suspicion,

but I’m just burnt.

I don’t remember being on fire,

but the aftermath has left me cursed.

- afg

[mybrainbile]

Borderline personality blues,

when your perception of your favorite person begins to skew.

Black and white thinking leads to how I withdrew.

Plagued with the realization;

unfortunately, you’re just human too.

- afg

[mybrainbile]

Being under mothered left me with an insatiable hunger.

Here’s something I’d tell myself if I was far younger,

“You’ll never outrun her.

Sure, maybe stun her,

or call her on a blunder,

but when you’ll look in the mirror,

it’ll be her,

only sunder.

The only difference, is the knife you’re under.”

- afg

[mybrainbile]

The peculiar perspectives of a paranoid pair,

I can’t help my somber stare.

Erratic in nature,

my heart drags me by my hair.

I’m up and down, of that I am aware.

Warning signs read, “Caution: She’s full of despair.”

Assumptions form attitudes attributed to prior abandonment,

But I swear to God,

I’d treat your heart like sacrament.

Of this I am adamant,

but you fear inevitable accident.

Your favorite advice comes from the Devil’s advocate.

- afg

[mybrainbile]

You call me ‘little mouse,’

And I know I’ve lost my patience,

There isn’t a doubt.

I’m permanently aroused,

At the thought of you laughing,

Open-mouthed.

It’s so much more than physical,

Like a little girl I get whimsical.

But, this is no childhood idealization.

I’m younger, but I know this isn’t just Adoration.

Your internal complication,

Is a result of thought intellectualization.

Don’t you know love could provide Lustration?

Or is this just another attempt to cure your Frustrations?

Hesitations and false rumination defines our Situation.

Lined with subtle indications,

Of our own very human complications.

- afg

[mybrainbile]

I had my first fond thought of you in what feels like years.

Don’t be be mistaken,

all that has subsided is the fear.

I’ll always be jaded for how long you kept me sedated.

It’s been translated:

I’ve reawakened to put my stake in,

administration of my communication.

I won’t settle for cyclical damnation,

because every conversation with you felt like contamination.

Washed my hands,

and I’ve developed a congregation of my own making.

A place where there’s not scraping, aching,

waiting.

After all this annotating,

the thought became nauseating.

If the choice is you, I pick starvation.

I pinky promise,

no need for contemplation.

- afg

[mybrainbile]

Moving in silence,

when I crave violence.

Acting in heinous ways,

I’d really rather not say,

not even to a damn pen and page.

Raging and saging,

trying to find balance I’m craving,

but fuck I’m caving.

Borderline so I’m, scathing.

My thoughts ricochet unwavering.

Black and white,

there’s no saving.

It’s your attention I’m craving.

- afg

[mybrainbile]

Inside me there has always been gripe.

A sense of impeding injustice and strife.

My own hope stabs me like a dull knife.

Isn’t this some quality of life?

- afg

[mybrainbile]

Kiss me on my temple,

something about this is transcendental.

As if you were a God, I may tremble.

The way we move is incremental,

you fear my love would be detrimental.

The way your heart has been broken is inconsequential:

the pieces of you, I’d dare assemble.

Baby, I’d treat your heart like I’m a sentinel.

However, here’s the thing, I won’t prove my potential;

I’ll leave you to worry about the existential,

when you remind me love is nonessential.

Do remember to be gentle,

no God of mine is resentful.

I’d pray, but this religion may be too regimental.

I think I could love you, but you treat me like a rental.

- afg

[mybrainbile]

I said I don’t need it, but I’d bleed for it.

Take everything and scream for it.

Longing is a wonder-some beast,

a mind full of thoughts you dare not speak.

Nothing romantic about how as if I’m on drugs I tweak,

trying to find what goes in the hole inside me.

Warmth is something I do seek,

perhaps a love that’s kind, full, and sweet.

Of desperation, do I reek?

Something about me, they never commit.

They love my devotion, eyes starlit.

Reciprocation is something I’ve always missed.

I’ll never have my own Orpheus.

I’d raise my fist before I reminisce,

a mouth full of words I’d rather dismiss.

Tell me what it feels like to be loved when you’re kissed?

- afg