and also this one

This one requires some explanation: the words of the poem are written between and around many scattered solid black pieces on the page.

'Twixt these broken pieces my words run
And broken pieces are my words
They stutter here and there
And do not meet
Uneven rhyme and broken feet

found this poem whilst cleaning

Think you now to lock the door
Seal my fate to live once more?
This time you may have me caught
But I can wait, while you cannot

You think time will let me heal
But you just give more time to feel
The pain and sorrow don't go down
They rise, whilst in them now I drown

I don't want to cause a stir
Officer, don't save me, sir
Let me dive and drift and drown
One less stress to make you frown

Let Me Go

Let me go, let me go.
Those who love me,
Please let me go.

My heart is so heavy,
My heart is too full,
Please let me go.

You want me to live,
But it hurts too much.
Please let me go.

I don't want to hurt you
But I can't go on anymore.
Please let me go.

I cannot keep on being.
I'm so very sorry.
Please let me go.

Hey, You

There's a poem I like
It's called "Remember how we forgot?"
Only the title is relevant here

Remember how worried you were
Not even a week ago?
Remember how you forgot that?

I shouldn't complain
When what I expect
Happens
When I didn't want you
To worry, anyway

Do I have to start each day
By saying
"Hey I want to die"
For you to care?
Why don't you ever
Just ask?

One person asks.
One person worries
Because he asks
And I answer

I know this is selfish
I am selfish
I'm not the only one
With problems

I just want you to ask

But it's not like I
Didn't know this would happen
I knew it would
I counted on it
It's always happened before

I write "I'm closer to
Suicide than to living"
And everyone freaks out
But I write "I regret
Not stopping to buy a gun
To blow my brains out"
And it's crickets

I don't normally
Write poems at people
And at the moment
I'm not even sure
Who "you" are

But if you see this
Ask me how I'm doing

Love is never going to be the cure
But each love is
One more thing
To tie me here
Even when I hate those ties

It's easy to say
"I love you."
It's harder to listen to the answer
To "are you okay?"

Oh Child

1. The first time your heart broke you were eight years old and you didn't know what was happening. Oh child, do you still believe your own hand wielded that sledgehammer?

2. When I see you, I have two thoughts: you are the strongest; you are the weakest. You are beaten down but parts of you remain unbroken and you hold your bloody head up with shameful pride.

3. If you're going to break, shatter the walls around your heart. Love is not the enemy for all that it keeps you here.

4. Maybe no one ever told you, but you're allowed to feel, even if all you feel is darkness and pain. No one told you you don't need fixing, perhaps; maybe all you need is those shattered walls, broken from the love hurled like explosives from those around you.

5. Oh child, let yourself feel.

My Apologies

- I'm sorry you had to take five seconds out of your day to read a Facebook post telling you I'm sad

- I'm sorry that made you sad for five whole seconds

- I'm sorry your fingers stutter on the keyboard because you don't know what to say when all you have to say is "I love you" but all you say is nothing

- I'm sorry I imagine belts and nooses, not kittens, when you say "hang in there"

- I'm sorry my accumulated years of pain became too much for you after a few months or less

- I'm sorry for not seeking help, for some reason I thought that's why I was talking to you

- I'm sorry I made you cry with that poem I wrote; I shed tears of a more sanguine hue while writing it, but sure let's talk about you

- I'm sorry your attempts to cheer me up make you feel like a failure

- I'm sorry for resisting your efforts to make me feel like a failure so you could feel better

- I'm sorry for working really hard to be my own genuine self, I am obviously doing it just to hurt you

- I'm sorry my presence makes you feel uncomfortable while I'm worrying I'll be shot this time as I attempt to pee

- I'm sorry I don't fit in your boxes, because after all all your other children grew up to become who you wanted them to be

- I'm sorry it hurts you when I want to die, your pain is obviously far more important than my own

- I'm sorry I unfollowed you on Facebook, I didn't realize you wanted me to pick fights on your posts full of vitriol and lies about people like me

- I'm sorry I keep talking to you; I've tried to stop but this thing called love or something keeps getting in the way

- I'm sorry I'm learning to be happy without Jesus

- I'm sorry you were wrong

To My Brain, You Asshole...Love, My Fingers

I wish I could do without you sometimes.
Without your dumb thoughts dropping pitter-patter from my tips in ink...and sometimes blood.
I wish I could turn you off and caress the keyboard only to slay fictional monsters and demons.

But only sometimes.

Because I know the words that bring tears and healing to others also come from you.
I know the darkness staining every inch of me some days is thanks to you.
I only move where you bid me and though so often what flows from me is pain I am grateful you give me the method to express that pain, whether that means picking up a pen or a marker or a scalpel.

Alternate Names for an Ex (Me)

1. Still on fire with no longer returned love

2. No longer rooted in past faith

3. Struggling to regain past brilliance

4. Boy with his breath still stolen by pain

5. More stable, and yet that razor's bite

6. Made in the likeness of the universe

7. Rejecter of summer's warmth

8. Still haunted by the spectre of other's beliefs

9. Needing only a spark to call back the darkness

10. A firework in the midst of exploding

I Should Have Stopped in Tennessee

Living is not hard.
It hurts
And it's exhausting
And I hate it
But it's not hard

On the other hand
Is that living?
Because I think
Maybe that's just
Breathing

I can breathe forever
I can eat
And sleep
And go through
All the motions
And my body will
Survive

But living?
Living involves things like
Peace
And purpose
And love
And hope
And at least one reason
To keep breathing

Dying is hard
Or maybe I haven't been
Trying hard enough

I drove through at least
Two different states
Last weekend
Where I could have
Walked right in
And purchased a firearm
I even had money, for once

But I didn't
Why didn't I
I regret not doing that

I have many bladed objects
And I'm sure I could stab
Myself to death
But I feel like a gun would be
A little easier
Take a little less effort
Be a little more sure

None of this nonsense
Where I might fail
Where I might just end up
Paralyzed, because I landed wrong
I was lucky to avoid that
Once already
I doubt I'd be so lucky again

If I had a gun
I could just put it to my head
And pull the trigger
And be done

That's all I want
I want to be done
I'm so tired
I can't do this
Why do I have to do this?

Breathing is not hard
I can breathe forever
But I'm so tired
Of not being alive

I'm Sorry I Assassinated Your Daughter

I'm sorry I assassinated your daughter
I'm sorry she had to die
I'm sorry her story had to end
Sometimes I wish I could give you your daughter back

I call it assassination because that's what it's called
When someone important is murdered
And I know she was important to you

I still remember the night she died
She had been dying for months
But I remember the final blow as if it was yesterday
She laid on the bed to sleep
But I was the only one who got up

I don't want to take your daughter's place, not exactly
I don't fit in that spot, I'm not daddy's little girl
She was never the clone mommy wanted
I can never fill the hole she left
But then, she never filled it that well either

I know that you still love her, oh so much
I know your faith calls for resurrection
But I assure you she's not coming back
All that's left is me, and I know I'm not enough
If I was enough, you would call me son
If I was enough, you would accept who I am
I didn't have a choice in how I was made, you know

I know I'll spend my life not measuring up to your dead daughter
And my life has a different trajectory
Than anything she would have known
But I keep living in hope that your love will transfer
And I keep being disappointed, yet still I hope

I know it's hard for you, that this strange man
Is wearing your dead daughter's face
But I'm doing my best to change it into my face
And I wonder, as I do, how long you'll call me by her name

I'm sorry I assassinated your daughter
I had to end her story
So that mine could begin

I'm sorry I assassinated your daughter
She had to die
So that I could live

Stutter

Words have always been my weapon

Oh yes

My power, my refuge...my prison

At times

Because I feel, oh so much I feel

And I am blessed, or cursed,

With the words to make you feel too

But sometimes words fail even me.

And I don't

I don't

I don't

I don't know what to say

Because I don't I don't I don't

I don't know what I'm feeling

But maybe if I try

If I put pen topaperandform 

L e t t e r s

Perhaps the words will follow

Because I need words

To tell me who I really am

To define emotions

To make them understandable

To make them bearable

The problem is that what I need

Doesn't yield to what is

And feelings don't yield to words

Nor words to feelings

And I die And I live and breathe and die again And break and shatter and fragment and who am I who am I Who am I what am I...

What are these

What are these tears

Sliding, dripping, squelching

Their salt-kissed way down my face

And off the tip of my nose

To land carelessly

On this green comforter that has known

Far too many tears for someone who

Doesn't. Cry.

And far too much blood

And oh I need blood

If I cannot have words

If they will not spill from my lips

Or drip from my pen

I must needs cut them out of my

Very skin

And yet and yet and yet

I must not.

Too much hinges on my supposed

Stability.

And yet I need...

I glance back at three pages

Just filled with words

But I have said nothing

I am not defined

I still feel

I am still full of

Incomprehensible 

Unbearable

Salt-kissed

tears

And I and I and I.

And I love

Oh how I love

And I will not stop

Have not stopped

Cannot stop

And it hurts

Oh it hurts

Because love is a fire

And I have spent more time

Being burned

Than being warmed

And I cannot cannot cannot

Feel this way

Where are my words

And why why why why why why

Have they deserted me?

Demons Run

Demons run
When a good man goes to war

Well then

Start running
I am going to war
I will fight

I will fight you,
Depression.
Even when you leave me
No weapons I can lift
I will fight tooth and nail
And claw and fucking
Blade, if that
Is what it takes

I will fight you,
Suicide.
I will live
And breathe
Yes, and learn
To do even more
You are the easiest
And the hardest
To fight
Because just being
Is a middle finger to you
But just being
Is so, so hard

But I will
I will fight
I will go to war

And
I
Will
Win

So start running

Happy Anniversary

I thought it was over
I thought that I had recovered
I thought I was better
I anticipated no more scarred lines

It was a lie
It wasn't me
I mistook love for strength
And when love ended
So too did strength

And today, of all days
Today
I remember

Because it could have been so good
Except it wasn't
I was loved, cherished, valued
Except I wasn't
I had a place, a home, family
Except I didn't

I barely need two hands to count
All the people I've loved deeply
Who loved me in return
The ones I let inside
The ones who knew the real me
As much as anyone can
When I don't know myself

B said I was manipulative
K said I was selfish
J said I was darkness incarnate
And took N with her
M said variations on the theme
And T followed her away

They all said the same things
Over and over
Repeating like some
Cacophonous harmony

Only one remains
And I don't doubt her feelings
Or her intentions
But those who know me best
Have taught me who I am
And I'm sure she'll see the truth
Sooner or later

I'm not living my life for love
That's a hope I refuse
If I ever live for anything
It must be my own self, complete

And yet
And yet
And yet
And yet who doesn't want love?
Who doesn't grieve when it is lost?

But it's not the loss of love
That brings me close to tears tonight
It's the fact, the simple fact
That those who know me best
Have all said the same thing

I am not a good person
I will never be
I am toxic to those around me
I will only ever drag those I love with me to the dirt

I'm not some sad teenager
Saying I'll never love again
I know that nobody's perfect
And those two hands' worth of loved ones
Had and have their own flaws

I'm just saying they were mostly decent people
That saw whoever I really am
And all agreed, without knowing each other
How horrible who they saw is

This would have been my anniversary
It's good that it is not
But I won't forget the lessons
I was taught

Promises

You cannot lock me

Safe into a cage

Of my own words

My word is strong

Yes, and I will keep it

But I am human

And other things

Are stronger

My word is not law

It is not inviolate

It, like me, can break

It, like me, will break

It, like me, is broken

I have screamed

And yelled, and raged

That other people

Cannot keep me here 

And yet the last few days

I linger here for them

I don't want to cause pain

But what about mine?

I gave my word

That I would live

But I can take it back

I will take it back

I will not be bound

Not even by me

I must be free

An Occupational Therapist's answer to For the Fifth Time

For the eternal burning flame
For relief on days untold
For passion, love and life
For delight of being bold

For taking subtle risks
For mountains, lakes and streams
For loved ones that I meet
For joy not what it seems

For the unknown dreams to come
For the calm within the storm
For relaxing into safety
For the sun that always warms

For all these I now accept
For all these I do exist
For all my changing choices
For my choice to no resist

For the Fifth Time

For the lack of burning fire
For the fear that grips so well
For the quenching of desire
For the living that is hell

For the plan that's only "safe"
For the river deep and cold
For the care that starts to chafe
For the plans both dark and bold

For the agony that's life
For the peace that lives in death
For the lack of bitter strife
For the final draw of breath

for all these I now refuse
for all these I cease to live
for all these my choice is made
for all these I leave this life

They tell me it gets better.
They aren’t really lying, but
They’re lying.
It doesn’t get better.
Ever.

They tell me to tell someone.
My friends, perhaps.
But I have told my friends
Time and time again,
And either they don’t care
Or they can’t handle it.
Either way,
It doesn’t help.
Nothing helps.

They tell me to seek help.
How many therapists
And hospitals and groups and pills
Do I try before I recognize
The truth?
They can’t help.

Why do I keep doing this to myself?
How many nights will I go to sleep
And how many mornings will I awaken
Hoping that somehow today
I will find the strength to go on.
Today I will be able to help myself.
Today will be better.

Today is never better.

I had a therapist
Who focused on self-injury
And made her main goal
Physical damage reduction.
I had a therapist
Who focused on religion
And made his main goal
(Unobtainable) holiness.
I had a therapist
Who focused on relationships
And made his main goal
Awakening a desire to parent.
I had a therapist
Who focused on herself
And that was just fucking
Useless.
Now I have a new therapist
And who knows what he’ll focus on.
And it will work just as well as anything else
Which is to say,
It won’t.

I don’t want to cope with this.
I want it to be gone.
I’ve come to realize that
I may never get better.
That I’ll struggle with depression
And self-harm, and suicide,
For the rest of my life.
And that is simply unacceptable.
I refuse to live like this.
I don’t want to cope with depression,
I want depression to be fucking gone.
I don’t want to “manage” this,
And I refuse to live with it,
Which honestly only leaves
One option.

Only one.

Excuse me while I go
Find a gun
Or a tall building
Or a speeding semi
Or a train.
Anything will do.

I've Promised to Live...What is Living?

The darkness around me presses
But I've sworn off seeking death
And I know that makes you happy
But I still don't want to live

So now what shall I do?
I spend more time staring at my feet
Than placing them in front of each other

Or staring at my mouse
Or Facebook
Or a chat box
Or my phone
Just staring, mind you
Doing nothing
Nothing at all

I have hundreds of books on paper
And thousands more kept in bytes
Yet I read a few words and I'm done
And the next time I read the same ones

Like this poem my life has no rhythm
No purpose, no plan
It's just words

Yet for some reason
I keep right on speaking
Though I know my words pain
Those who care

At least I know now for sure
I'm not alone in this world
And unless something unthinkable happens
Never more will I ever be

But your love, however loving
However infinite it may be
Cannot fill the void in my soul
The space where my heart used to be

I cannot say that I love you
Although I wish that I could
But I don't love myself
So there's no seed
From which my love for others could grow

But I choose to act as though
I felt something other than pain
I choose to treat you, my dear ones
As though my heart overflowed

I've done all I can think of
Or been asked to
I've sought help, taken pills
Been locked away

And yet here and now I feel nothing
But the same things I felt last year
And all the years before that

I don't feel any better
Nothing's helping
How long must this horror go on?
I'm not waiting for magical cures
I've done all that I can
And some that I didn't know I could

In general my eyes stay dry
Teardrops are alien things
But right now my eyes are leaking
And my head aches with the pain that I've shed

What can I say now?
What else can I add to these words?
I can't change the past but
Neither, it seems
Can I change now
Or anything at all

The world spins ever on and on
And we, unbidden, follow in its wake
And wonder when the motion ends
And we fly off to worlds unknown

Freedom (And Truth)

I'm waiting for freedom
But my chains grow ever thicker
I should fight it, I know
But what is my will
Against these bonds?

I know it can be fought
I've seen others do it well
So why is it when I try
I do nought but fail and fail?

I try not to give in
To the knowledge I am broken
But I often wonder if I'm
Refusing to give in to the truth

Because I'm not entirely sure,
Like Pilate, what truth is
Perhaps my truth is just different
Than your truth or another's

And if that is the case,
Will therapy ever help me?
Not if we're working with two
Different truths in mind

It was much easier believing
In only one truth, the absolute
The pinnacle of human morals
And foundation of its life

But truth is not so narrowly
Defined, nor so easily
In this way, it comes to be
A lot like freedom from these bonds

What is freedom?
Shall I ever know it
Even if it should come to me
Tomorrow, or tonight?