2 Be,
Is not be loved
In state of bare undressed
Neither is a cuddle
Nor soiled underwear opon bedroom flooring
After sexual contact after the fact
If all that's left is circumspect
Just luke warm hot release subsidies ever so quickly
Needed to be mopped up
Following by the walk of shame
Then what's the point
Of going through all that will
In the end
Will only make 1 hate oneself
infront of the mirror i see a man tangled in his own stupidity
a man who's mind lacks necessities in developing stabilty
confused, he blankly gazes for days on end
waiting for a sign to prove that he's not dead
after a lengthy period of reflection and solitude
he becomes aware of the cracks he's falling through
he measures the depth of every step he fell down
the realization strikes him.. his path is hell bound
he prays, meditates, begs and cries for guidance
but is only greeted with the painful eyes of silence
with nowhere to go he is forgotten by time
in a never ending labrynth, lost in his mind
how could he let himself slip to this devistation?
he ignored the vapors of his life and now he smells the frargence
it isn't pleasant.. it's bitter and putrid
with a new sense of wisdom he attempts to remove it
unfortunatelly, his past counteracts his present
and he sobs from below peering at the gates of heaven
I don't have the same stamina as a young man,
some girls look away and others say, " Sir! "
Is that because I am aging and losing my hair;
lately I've been wearing a cap, but they still grin!
Is Rogain the solution and the end to my frustration?
Will it be worthwhile to grow a full head of hair
and fool myself that I defy age and receive flair?
Why hate myself...instead of getting rid of pretention?
I can feel better accepting myself reaching maturity
without those silly attempts of turning the clock back;
I had my glory: memorable days full of laughter and vitality,
let others begin their journey and not end up a lonely Jack!
Copyright ( c ) 2015 by Andrew Crisci
Standing in an open field the sun
burned deep through my forehead mesmerized
by the arrow in mychestand the
bullet in my back--motionless quivers a
numbed spine paused my heart in a
rapture of devious contempt from a
long distance voice of panic depression
while lying with a rose petal of thornless
infinity---the bearer of this booklet trapped in a
Zodiac chasm of bottomless neverchoices
chants a harmful chord of courted chaos.
Free admission for the file of names that pass this way
that leave the dead lamp burning for useless
noones---abandon the frenzy wise sleuth and don
the love clown that fits you so well. Service to the innane
truth you call yourself and hope the
arrow bullet blend in a vicegrip ballet--
crippling your for afterlife shadow of
uncommon pretense. Take it to the place
where you stand lying down and grovel in your own
wasted time with little notion of grevious malice. There
is no pain only longing---no death only one size
fits all nothing and hear the vultures laugh
lovingly in the distance. Eat at Joes.
I hate myself for letting me go,
To the extent of hurting myself.
I hate myself for setting me up,
For a fall which was bound to happen.
I hate myself for giving what I had,
And expecting to want anything in return.
I hate myself for bringing me to this place,
I vowed I would never let me go.
she hides with in herself
a mystery to everyone
not letting her guard down
afraid of embarrassment
afraid of too much
she hides her face
hides her smile
hides everything
earphones always in her ears
I don't know why she loves to block out the world
I don't know why shes so afraid
I don't know why shes so ashamed
shes in a new place
with new people
and after a month
she has made a grand total of one friend
why?
why?!
why is she so antisocial
she doesn't want to be this way
she prays for the confidence
to be herself
to let herself shine through the mask she constantly wears
she wants to shine she wants to be free
she hates everything that is holding her back
she hates it so much she begins to hate herself
all she wants is some friends
people to turn to and rely on to help her get through the frightening new experience
but she can not even manage to get the guts to say hi to someone
she gets this overwhelming fear in the pit of her stomach
and it eats away at her
keeps her from socializing
she wonders what is wrong with her
she wonders what she can do to fix herself
she cries at night because she's all alone
she hates this part of herself
so much
I hate myself for being me
When all I cause is misery
When love changes into enemy
I am left feeling alone and empty
I hate myself for what I sometimes do
And what I seem to put others through
I always try to keep my soul true
But you never see what comes out of the blue
I hate myself for letting myself lose her
Thought so many storms we could weather
Always believed we could always stay together
But love just never seems to last for ever
I hate myself and I always will
I have to swallow the bitter pill
Of this hate it will never have its' fill
And I am left hating myself still
I write it down
in pen
as permanent as a scar
I scribble it out
more and more
as if the more ink
I lay on top of the burning wound
the less true the words become
I write it down
the words scream at me
echoing in my brain
unearthing every truth I buried within
the coffins of dead thoughts are finally opened
the ghosts of past mistakes, alive, free
bridges rebuild between my heart and my mind
I can't take it
I'm not as strong as I need to be
I write it down
I can't take the screaming
I can't handle my own truth
Lies battle the echoes
conquering the space in my mind
the coffins shut the thoughts away
that I never should have thought before
bridges crumble
bridges burn
nothing connects
nothing works
I plunge back into confusion
I can't take it
Right now I really hate myself,
for the things, this past summer I've done.
And the pain I caused my beautiful wife,
my daughter, and my son.
Six months or so have passed,
and oh so many tears I've cried.
I sometimes wish that in that room,
I would have just up and died.
Now as Christmas fastly aproches,
Im sadded once again in heart;
For the debt that I created,
from a lustful heart.
Also how depressed I feel,
for Christmas will surely be,
One of very little,
under our Christmas tree.
So for now I feel truly sadden,
for the kids will wonder why,
Santa skipped our house this year,
for some reason passed us by.
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