#roux's poetry dump

[kangaroo-r00]

Warpaint & Crocodiles

They turn a blind eye to your pain. You  suffer silently. You  vow to never get too  close to anyone ever  again.

Built up your walls  and hid from the  world. Funny how  someone so guarded  lets people in so  easily.

They break your  carefully crafted walls  from the inside out  and leave you  defenseless to the  rest of the world.

The sadness in your  drooping eyes escape  and spill down your  cheeks and paints  your face like  warpaint.

War hurts, does it  not? Especially the  ones inside you. They  tug and rip and tear  you to pieces until you are not you.

Allies and enemies  blur together in a  terrifying manner.  Maybe the only  enemy here is  yourself.

Fighting yourself is  the hardest battle one  can fight. You cannot  risk damaging  yourself further but  you want to.

Maybe if you  starved... Maybe if  you hurt… Maybe if  you closed your  weary eyes and gave  up…

But you are too  cowardly to do such a  thing, so you remain standing and destroy  yourself past repair,  never to be the same.

Apathy is your most  trusted ally and a  traitor. The world is your enemy. You are  your own worst  enemy.

At some point it does  not hurt so badly.  Then it does not hurt at all. You are numb  and you simply exist,  nothing more.

Your heart has been  buried alive to protect  your last remaining  treasure but all you  did was smother it and kill it yourself.

Do not be surprised  when you are left  alone with only your  thoughts as company.  Left with echoes and  vanishing memories.

Ironically, not as  lonely as being  surrounded by  familiar faces and  feeling smaller than  ever before.

Too tired to fight, too  tired to scream, too  tired to cry… how do  you find the energy to  breathe and take up  space?

That is the hardest  thing: feeling guilty about existing. Sorry  this, sorry that, you  never stop  apologizing.

What are you even  apologizing for?  Being a failure, being  a freak, being sad?  There will never be  enough apologies.

So cry yourself a moat whilst you feel  numb and drown  everything out in a  tidal wave and drop in  those crocodiles.

Those nasty  crocodiles bite you all  the time, so why  would they not bite  intruders? Yellow  teeth click, click, click.

You lay on an island  made of crushed  dreams, surrounded  by tears and cruel  thoughts, and stare at  the stormy sky.

This is no fairytale; no  knight in armor will  save you. But being  your own savior is  tiring. And you, my  dear, are tired.

[kangaroo-r00]

Two-Way Mirror

You were brighter than all the stars in the night sky, shining with unfaltering brilliance. Covered in bruises, scrapes, and cuts, you never let anything get you down. You loved making friends.

You never stopped talking, content with the fact that nobody listened to you all the time. They would tell you to be quiet but you  would continue to chatter away at whatever topic has gotten you so intrigued.

You were so resilient. So fearless and curious and compassionate. It seemed as if you could conquer the world and harm nobody in the process. You were so unconditionally  joyful.

I wonder what you would think of me now...

Whenever did you delude yourself with the thought that nobody cared? Whenever did you stop talking? When did that wonderful little spark burn up and die out? I wish I could breathe life into it for you.

Tell me when that day was, little one, and I will go back and fix it for us. Oh, how hurt you were. Did you cry? Or were you totally numb? Was it the day he said he wished he had never had children with Mom?

(“I was so fucking stupid to have kids with Theresa.”)

Tell me who was the culprit? Who ripped your heart out and crushed it beneath their heel? I have a feeling I know who it was. I will go and make him pay for what he did to us. But you would not want that.

(“Control your emotions.”)

How you bottled them up tight until they burst like those geysers you always watched on tv with wide, wondrous eyes. You only got in trouble for following that advice. Red handprints that lingered.

Oh, how I wish I could take all your pain away. I wish I could play with you, let your imagination soar as high as the eagles you admired. I wish I could hold you close and whisper how much I loved you.

In the end, you only clipped your own wings and grounded yourself. Now I suffer the consequences of your actions. I forgive you though. I always will. You were only a child; you did not know any better.

We both suffered a lot through our short life. We are still suffering. But now we’re picking up the pieces and putting ourself back together. The glass cuts the pads of our fingers but we ignore the sharp stinging.

It still hurts, does it not? Crystals fall from our long lashes and form new shards of glittering glass to clean up. Choking gasps burn our lungs. It is okay to cry; he lied to us. That’s all he is. A fucking liar.

I hear you gasp at the naughty swear. Need I remind you that you were unable to pronounce truck right? You said it all the time. Now that you know it is a bad word, it was suddenly wrong to say.

They are just words, love. It is all they will ever be. The spoken, unspoken, written... Yet words hold power over our heads. You see this in our stories and poems. They only control us if we let them.

It is hard to heal—to meticulously place each piece back into the incorrect places and pretend it looks the same as before. It will never look the same with those spiderwebbed cracks.

You need not apologize to me. I am the one sorry for letting the world get to us when we should be invincible. I will cup your cheeks, kiss your forehead, and stare into those bright eyes.

You have suffered far too much for a child. Now let me take care of you and carry you along with me to watch all our dreams come true. It is what you deserve, little doodlebug. You and I both. It will be okay.

I promise. Tag list: @melasong, @writerwithdepression, @normallyemma, @kitnkas, @iris-the-asparagus, @here-be-becquerel, @maybalator (tell me if you want to be added to the taglist)

I know not my normal thing but it’s... very important to me...

[kangaroo-r00]

Riddle Me This

(A/N) surprise, surprise another shitty vent poem

I wish I didn’t feel so apathetic and exhausted—

Riddle me this: is it better to be numb or to hurt so badly you’re shaking?

I want to feel worthwhile—

It’s awfully funny that someone terrified of being abandoned gets attached so easily.

I wish I wasn’t scared all the time—

It’s quite amusing when you set down a glass too hard or jump at your shadow.

I wish I was braver—

To do what? Go out walking in the dark? Drag that knife across your thighs? Step in front of that car? Swallow those pills and go to sleep?

I want to be trusted—

When you can’t trust your own fucking family? Trust is a two way street, and you’re stopping in your tracks while they walk on ahead.

My mind needs to slow down—

And let the void consume you? I keep you running and on alert and functioning.

I need to be happier—

When all you want to do is cry? You don’t even want to leave your own house let alone the goddamn bed.

I’m trying my hardest—

And your best isn’t ever enough. You’re not trying hard enough and you’re only doing worse than the time before.

I’m breathing—

Not during those hysterical breakdowns you aren’t. Not when you’re too anxious or mentally low.

I want validation—

You think you deserve it? You’re not even worth it.

I want to eat without feeling like I don’t deserve it—

Well, now that’s just selfish. You haven’t finished your homework. You’re not a good friend.

I want to tell the truth—

And watch them all laugh and leave you behind? The unwanted truth hurts much more than a preferred lie. Conform and be normal.

I wish I could look at sharp things and not automatically—

You should hurt yourself with that. Watch the red rise up and finally feel alive.

I’m healing, I can slip up—

If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. You’re still up and functioning, aren’t you? You obviously can work harder.

I’m still here, I’m crying, I’m screaming just help me kill me

I’d say you’re just another pretty face but now that’s just not true. You’re painfully average in a world full of beauty.

I look decent enough!

If I were to leave you you’d be so lonely, lost, and abandoned. I’m the only loud part of you.

You’re making me tired. I just want it to stop!

You’re annoying You’re broken You’re needy You’re clingy And oh so sentimental Why would anyone love you?

I give validation. I’m holding them up and helping them fly.

You want and you want but why should you receive when you can’t even keep your mood level.

It’s not my fucking fault you make me so empty and worthless and terrified and hurt—

You’re not pretty You’re not strong You’re not smart You’re not talented You have no endurance You can’t stay committed You’re too stupid to keep up You’re falling behind You’re FAILING IN LIFE

That’s not true—

Tell me what you want to do with this life you’ve been given? What’s your purpose, your story? How will you pay for all the things you want? You’ll never get that name change,  those binders, that surgery.

There’s still time!

You don’t have the patience or the forgiveness to be a decent Christian. That’s why you dropped out while you were ahead. But even that’s a stretch.

I’m—

What? Are you sorry? Haven’t you learned nobody cares for apologies? That they’re just excuses? You sound like a broken record and people throw those out.

Own up to it. Try harder. There’s no trying; there’s only doing. It’s pain, you won’t die. God, what are you: weak? You can’t even cry right or spill your emotions.

…

Is it better to worry others or let them be happy? If they don’t notice, they don’t care. You’re already falling behind, don’t drag others down with you.

What do you strive for? What’s your fucking purpose? What are your goals? What do you want?

I…

Well? Answer the question. Or are you too anxious? Remember that one girl who said you looked so scared at simply being addressed?

I… I want to be happy…

Isn’t that funny? Why don’t you stick to wanting to be successful? Though that wouldn’t end well for you either.

Who could ever want you if  your own father didn’t want you?

Well, he’s a goddamn asshole—

And he would’ve hit you for saying that and you would’ve deserved it—

I never deserved it—

YOU ALWAYS DESERVED IT!

…

And there you are crying, weeping and gasping. You can’t handle yelling; how are you going to survive in the cruel world you live in? You’re scared you’ll get hit, and that’s just pathetic.

Pick yourself up and dust yourself off. We’ve got work to do and there’s no time for breaks. Wipe your face and bow down your head. Nobody’ll notice you’re hurting.

Now follow my lead and make yourself small. Don’t speak until spoken to and don’t you dare ramble. Control your emotions and stay out of the way.

You want to do something productive and helpful?

… I’m not doing that…

Ah well… maybe another day then. Go to bed and sleep off the yucky feeling. Then trudge through your day with a hurting soul and sad, heavy eyes.

… I don’t think I can sleep…

Then I’ll keep you company. What would you do without me?

Do some people live without you?

Lots do.

How do they get through their day? How do they not feel this way?

I don’t know and you’ll never find out. Because I’m your best friend and the only one who’ll stay by your side. I’ll never abandon you.

[kangaroo-r00]

We’re All Just Liars Here

JANUARY 18TH, 2019 By: Roux I begged you to never let go of me. You promised... I trusted you, you let me down and I came crawling back to your feet. Time after time again. Soon I get tired of being lied to. You looked me right in the eyes as you let me plummet down, down, down, to rock bottom. I'll crawl my way out of hell to show you what happens to traitors. And you'll look me in the eyes, crying for mercy before karma bites you in the ass.

[kangaroo-r00]

Staring Contests

(A/N) Another vent poem because I just can’t seem to shake intrusive thoughts

Staring contests were hard, especially with those droopy eyes of theirs... and the fact that inanimate objects didn't have eyes.

Orange meant caution, like safety cones. Orange was warm, like sunsets. Orange meant safety and stability, like pill bottles.

That very bottle taunting with a kind of rest they only dreamed of. The eternal kind.

Staring contests were hard. Their eyes heavy with sadness and bruises holding that pain in.

Staring contests were hard because all they could stare at were their flaws and their certain demise.

Staring contests were hard because they deserved to be stared at like their puppy died because there was something wrong with them.

In the end, they always looked away first, shame coursing through them for even thinking that way.

Staring contests were hard because they always lost, and losing meant they had to keep living a life they don't want.

[kangaroo-r00]

POETRY DISSECTION

Title - Refers to how present Roux looks back on little Roux. Hence the two-way mirror concept. Present can see Little but Little can’t see Present.

1st paragraph - Little Roux was like any other child basically. Happy-go-lucky, persistent, and friendly.

2nd paragraph - Little never shut up. They didn’t care if nobody was listening to them.

3rd paragraph - Similar to paragraph #1

4th paragraph - Present wonders what Little would think of them in their current state

5th paragraph - At one point Little convinced themself nobody listened and stopped talking as much. They felt like a burden. They stamped out their creativity. Present wants to help them restart it.

6th paragraph - Little overheard their father essentially say he wished they hadn’t been born. It hits them hard.

7th paragraph - Closest words Little remembers that he said

8th paragraph - Present wants to hurt whoever hurt Little but knows Little wouldn’t want that.

9th paragraph - Their father told Little that whenever they threw tantrums, got angry, cried, or showed any emotion really

10th paragraph - Little bottled up emotions until they explode. They got yelled at and spanked for that a lot.

11th paragraph - Present wishes they could give Little the proper childhood they deserve.

12th paragraph - “Clipped your own wings” refers to the anxiety and depression that was developed. Present suffers Little’s thoughts. They don’t blame them.

13th paragraph - 

(Not mentioned but addressing the trauma shatters the two-way mirror. After all this time, Little is still there all alone and the two can now interact. [Little’s there because they were repressed by A & D] The two clean up the shards of glass together.)

Healing hurts. We go through the trauma we suffered and patch it up one piece at a time.

14th paragraph - After all this time, everything still hurts. Present reassures Little it’s okay to cry. Their father lied. It’s okay to show emotion.

15th paragraph - Present is amused by Little’s indignation and tells them how they used to pronounce “truck” wrong.

16th paragraph - Present teaches an important life lesson to Little. Words have no impact unless you let them. Different tones convey different meanings. If you don’t care, it can’t hurt you.

17th paragraph - It’s hard to heal and we won’t be the same, but we’ll be whole again. We’ll be one again like we were supposed to be. Little will be able to grow up properly to become Present while Present becomes Future.

18th paragraph - Little feels bad for being a burden but Present reassures them it’s their own fault. They should’ve been more resilient and protected them better. Should’ve been as strong and brave as Little had been. They’ll treat Little with the kindness they deserved.

19th paragraph - Present will nurture them. Little wanted to be a zookeeper or an author when they grew up. Present will carry them and let them see that even if it seems hopeless, they can achieve their dreams.

20th paragraph - Present’s promise to Little. A promise to never give up and end both their chance to be happy and a promise to take them along and never allow them to be abandoned.