notsurewhatelsetowrite - Tumblr blog

[notsurewhatelsetowrite]

Rancid and burning

This man who lies on the step

A hollow shell of silence/science

[notsurewhatelsetowrite]

I found my cart by the light of my vape

Looks like I pissed my pants a bit, so

No more sneaking out for gulps of vodka

Who am I, to harbor dreams of greatness

In this sad, broken lonely bottle of a man?

[notsurewhatelsetowrite]

Questions

If we are abominations to an evil world

Are we good or metacorrupted?

Is goodness something we create inside ourselves?

Is it foolish to measure reality with social constructs?

The bear eats a fish and the fish suffers

Should the fish suffer? Is it allowed?

Should the fish learn to be stoic?

This is the grand plan, is it not?

A boy is abandoned as a child and grows

To become a monster. Is he a monster?

Is a he a temporal prism of his past?

Does the boy exist at all?

....make atoms make molecules make proteins

Make cells make organs make me makes us

makes...

Which is real? Which is the construct?

Is to be more alive to be less real?

A boy is given a script to a play. The script

Has no end or beginning, just ellipses

The script is the word "feelings" repeated

Can the boy burn the script?

Is the script incoherent or is it the only reality?

Cows graze in the evening sun on astroturf

The farmer is drunk on his porch, illucid

As night falls, coyotes tear at their throats

Quietly - they do not want to disturb him.

[notsurewhatelsetowrite]

Teeth Through My Bones

All the dishes are dirty

The air is rank with odors

Of marijuana, sweat, detritus, fear

Nothing can be done

This world is chewing me

[notsurewhatelsetowrite]

Aviary

The songbirds have come back

To whisper in my ear again

They are quiet and cautious,

And sometimes too flighty to come close

They still remember the cage, after all

I try to leave seeds in the birdfeeder, regardless

[notsurewhatelsetowrite]

Anathema

Please pardon me when I freeze

And my face goes blank and my eyes

Become less like emeralds and more

Like cold stones

On occasion the parasite I house

tries to drown me

And I have to focus on treading water

Please pardon my apologies

Soft-spoken or unnecessary

When I avoid looking through your windows

So you cannot look through mine

I opine that you won't like what you see

And still remember how dangerous

Playing that game can be

Please pardon me when I try

To wrap myself in smoky gauze so the world

Can't be seen through the cloth

I think my soul was mutilated a long time ago

And the wounds are reluctant to heal

So I try to bandage myself as best I can

Please pardon my quickened breathing

Or short replies, narcissistic assumptions

Or terrified glances

I just want to to make

My existence worth the trouble

For the rest of you

[notsurewhatelsetowrite]

Ouroboros

I carried a wound

Thinking it was a heart

For many years

I carried a heart

Thinking it was a wound

For many years

I am Ouroboros

And I will eat my tail

Till I realize

It is all of ours.

[notsurewhatelsetowrite]

...It Will Dissipate

They won't tell you how it goes

Because it doesn't go away all at once

It doesn't turn on and off like the sun comes down and up

an hour of twilight and then the night

An hour of dawn and then the day

No, it will stick with you the rest of your life

And you will never be free from it

But you will learn what it means to live again

Fetal, blind, you will crawl slowly into that dawn

And although you carry the night with you

The light all around will make it seem

Like the smallest, strangest ball of darkness

Paling in comparison to the realness

Of what you experience around you

You will learn what it means to feel again

Because forcing that darkness back is as if

You've been drunken and numb all your life

And suddenly you're sober, and all

That the world wants is to take your hand

And teach you every detail of every flower

And why the bees touch them so gently

All over again

[notsurewhatelsetowrite]

I don't remember

What she looked like; her face was

Just flowers and light

[notsurewhatelsetowrite]

Wither

I don’t know if it’s the drugs or my thoughts

thats been making me stumble into walls

weak knees and unsteady strides

heavy body and labored breathing

as I lay down, head tucked over the side of the bed

Who knows if I’ll ever get up

the seductive dripping sweetness of depression

that seems such an attractive option

to lay here forever and allow it to swallow me

the freeing nothingness to overdose,

xanax and honeyed whiskey

and sweet hydrocodone

maybe I’ll wither away, ambition siphoned

till I, the shallow husk, pass of natural accord

Though perhaps I will finally break

and hurt those around me

there aren’t many left to love, so it won’t

stab me as deep when the oceanwater flows

from their shuttered windows

one-way mirrors whose primary fluid

is the vitriol and venom, injected simply

by looking

[notsurewhatelsetowrite]

1/R^2

They say gravity and electromagnetism

extend forever, fields crossing space

and that even a minute push can move worlds

Every atom of my body influences every other

and so the whole universe touches us, constantly.

how can one not simply bask

in that overwhelming, blinding splendor?

[notsurewhatelsetowrite]

Like Cigarette Smoke...

Its wierd when you first see the numbers

staring back at you from your 5.5 inch

LED screen, backlit softly at 2am

when the tears have dried on your pillow

and the shaking and sobbing has stopped

and you’re just a quiet, fetal figure

lying down on the bed

trying to make sense of your life

They don’t give you the stats with the diagnosis

they barely like to give a diagnosis anyway

so I’ll break it down for you:

A majority of those with the particular perversion

of mind I have the joy to inherit

will try to erase themselves from existence

1 in 8 will succeed

and more than half will try multiple times

So though they wonder why I like it

when the sky is grey and calm and dead

It is because they don’t comprehend

its internalization

That reflection of my inner self may not be flattering

but it’s honest, at least; the grey clouds and still air

have been floating around in my cerebellum

for a long, long time.

I have to wonder if the desire for death

that has been painted in broad, blunt strokes

across the inside of my head, only to diffuse

until it hovers above the greymatter like the finest,

gentlest mist, is just a defense mechanism

an evolutionary mercy to prevent generation

after generation

after generation

of feeling like your soul has 3rd degree burns

and the world is a giant sheet of sandpaper.

It’s wierd when you first see the numbers

because you are just a statistic

and statistically, I’m going to die before I’m 30

and the whole life I’ve dreamed up

and agonized over

and every decision I wanted to make

every qualia I wanted to experience

will be cut brutally short

by the self-destruct sequence inside my head.

And I can try to cheat the numbers

I can tell God to eat shit, I can fight

I can refuse to go quietly into that good night

But numbers don’t lie, and nooses rarely snap.

[notsurewhatelsetowrite]

11/02/16

It should have snowed that morning

icy hexasymmetry hung in the air

as I made the call

And I watched my dreams fly away

like radiant songbirds

grown too big for their cage.

[notsurewhatelsetowrite]

Seasons

In spring I asked her if she wanted to stay

in summer I begged her but she told me no

in autumn I asked her to mirror season with name

in winter she melted away like the snow

[notsurewhatelsetowrite]

Claws

Can she take her claws out of me?

Another deadline unmet, promises unkept, and yet she takes no blame.  Minutes late, and I am crucified.

Can she take her claws out of me?

The hysterics of a child rule her life, and her whim is her will is our directive is our suffering.

Can she take her claws out of me?

She is the God of this house; no one can oppose her, and no say can sway her.

Can she take her claws out of me?

Her God is a wrathful one, her scripture is her invalidation, her commandments obey, endure, and be silenced.

Can she take her claws out of me?

Her ontology changes to suit her mood; she warps reality itself around all of us to ensure herself.

Can she take her claws out of me?

Words are her weapons, twisting sentences her sword-art; they aim to mutilate the ego.

Can she take her claws out of me?

I call her by the name of mother, but she has not been one to me.

Can she take her claws out of me?

[notsurewhatelsetowrite]

Blind Me

If I had one wish

It would be your

soft lips back

against mine with your

sun-drenched skin and your

kind eyes looking

at me until I couldn’t

bear them,

bright as the sun