i’m smoking
cigarettes
i can’t
really afford
-
i may look
really
you know
like
interested
-
but i’m
the chairman
of the bored
-
inhaling noxious fumes
i don’t need
ignoring all the warnings
i won’t heed
-
got a nagging fuckin cough
i can’t kick
addicted
to the products
that keep me calm
and make me sick
-
sucking on poisons
fed to me
by machines
-
surfing semi-tangible realities
offered
in teasing
fleeting dreams
-
and the nothing
that i seek
it hides in sight
between the breath
of silent screams
About the Creator
Bren
“I know what I mean it to be and respect that someone else may read something entirely different.”
Centre Stage with the wonderful Heather Hubler
Messiah
You have to knock louder, my dear. I can't hear beyond the thunder of the door. I won't believe you actually mean it. Because you have to want it more. You became home to me and I fear when it's going to end. I conspire against myself in hopes the truth will bend. You're the therapy I actually benefit from, the doubt that gets removed. I run to the sound of your echoes while I climb out of this tomb. I was searching for you but were you looking for me? Did you pin all your hope on a future while you waited for me? I don't want to escape, I want to run away with you. With your hand in mine, we can witness everything brand new. I've learned to live with distorted self-esteem. Where I couldn't possibly be worth anything. To measure up with what I expect you'd want and need. To be everything wrapped up in a peaceful dream. To be enough, to be the one to make you happy. Where I prove myself and land at your feet. Why can't I just be myself and hope for the best? Because I'm afraid I will always be -less. There's a part of me that lives in constant fear. That I speak in a language you couldn't possibly hear. I cannot control how you view me, my love. All I can do is continue to love you and hope its enough. My attempts at happiness are few in between. My efforts at evolution are always unseen. I crave the safety of consistent and stable arms. I yearn for the freedom that lies in your peaceful and loving heart
By Anna Torres8 days ago in Poets
Comments (1)
This has a gritty, honest rhythm to it. That line about being the "chairman of the bored" perfectly describes that restless feeling where you are doing something you hate just to have something to do with your hands. It is a vicious cycle to be addicted to the very thing that is making you feel worse, but you nailed how that "calm" is sometimes the only thing that matters in the moment.