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Gina Young Poem
All the people I've known
Are holding hands with the empty promises they made
So they are not alone
When day breaks
And everyone keeps getting in the way
Saying this and this
Doing nothing nothing
Feeling better with the apathy
Someone never held me
And glued me back together
Unless I kept their secrets
Unless I gave them cash
So many friends I've had
Couldn't tell you
A thing about me
Or what I need
We were sounding boards and fool's
We ran the train tracks and begged at the mall
We talked and we got high
We failed to be anything legit
People and their whole lives
Are letting truth slip away
Putting integrity on clearance racks
And faking character with all the right words
But I stand against the wall
I see you and I know what you are
You cannot hurt me with your soul hustle
With your transparent bag of tricks
My perception is true
And my intentions are unfaltering
Even when I shake
Even if I cry
My words are thoughtful
My actions are reliable
Even when I'm lonely
Even if I hurt
Copyright © Gina Young | Year Posted 2019
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Gina Young Poem
3 Benadryl
My body is damaged, depleted and drawn tight around my bones
Skin that shivers through the sweat
A heart never to be trusted.
How many of these edge-balanced days are left?
Give me 1,000. And fill heaven with the stars of night.
In the silence, I hear my skin cells living and dying. Being birthed again.
And all these miles of nerve fibers. Laid out like twigs. Drenched in kerosene.
Yes. I'm on fire.
Copyright © Gina Young | Year Posted 2019
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Gina Young Poem
I'm learning to shut my mouth. Keep some secrets.
The world isn't deserving of the story I have inside.
Levels of perception. People can never truly understand someone else.
I will always be a stranger to you, no matter how much I talk.
So I should be quieter and then you won't have my words to use against me when I've become no longer beneficial to your needs.
And it's difficult. No lie.
When I've got so much to say and all these roaring thoughts and feelings screaming at me at the time.
I'm interested. Why aren't you interested? Why doesn't anybody show interest in anything anymore.
It makes me crazy.
Dull and lifeless. I'm surrounded by wooden puppet people.
And nobody wants to read books.
Nobody wants to talk about the universe.
Learn obscure bits of history.
Ponder ancient times and pyramids.
Or take up knitting just for fun.
Argue whether aliens actually exist. (They do.)
Nobody wants to write poems or stories.
Draw, doodle, or paint.
Walk aimlessly through this town.
Find a new favorite band or podcast.
Research medical history and eradicated diseases.
Ask a challenging question.
Work on building character.
I miss when stuff mattered and people mattered.
I miss the curiosity that should be omnipresent in humanity.
So, keep your reality TV and your 9 to 5 job.
Keep cleaning up the house that never gets messy.
Go on gossiping.
Continue to be self absorbed.
Keep on believing the evening news.
And your high school textbooks.
I'll be a weirdo, a lot misunderstood.
I am happy to stand out in my ways. I'm totally down to be a freak in a whitewashed, boring world.
Copyright © Gina Young | Year Posted 2019
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Gina Young Poem
The spoils of war and the comfort of your home all locked up in a web of spiders silk and dusty blue Columbines. A mid-winter sky raging brilliant white electricity while I dig my fingernails into my palms. Open heart, shattered core, and a vibrant pain pulsing, silently underneath. Cover me. As I rise and fade and then rise again. Seperate a corner of the earth to hold me on and carve out an uneven foundation. I cannot be made to hold steady, unbalanced all over my life. Gripping the fear as it shoots thru my spine, equidistant from my shoulder blades, and I don't know what to do once I'm holding onto it. Each day is a mess of these laser lines flying thru my self, tangible and unreal. If I could just work my way back to the beginning. The very first shock of mental anguish, maybe I'd untangle some of my self. And maybe I'd just magnify the creaking, rotten cabin I've been building to hide inside. But it sure would be something to see. All my selfish turmoil laid out and choreographed. Placed precariously over bones full of bullet holes.
So leave me with the sky. With no tourism in my head. I'm counting star patterns. I'm not afraid right now.
Copyright © Gina Young | Year Posted 2019
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Gina Young Poem
Your eyes were roaming over my ruined life
And I could feel the shame rising up
A hurricane in my chest, hot winds ripping through my body
I could have collapsed under the pressure of your silence
Time. Tick. Tick. Tick.
My mouth spewing forth useless words
Fill the empty space and drown a little more
Gasping. Clawing. Failing.
Please go.
I'm not normal anymore
My world revolves somewhere outside of the boundary of goodness
I'm untouchable now
Not like you or you or him
And the pity seeping out of you,
It burns like I'm drinking bleach
And my need is struggling to be seen
You've done all you can for me
Just walk away
And tell me to take care
And let me be forgotten.
Maybe you think I don't want to be like you
Or that I cannot manage being alive
Incapable of connection
Maybe unworthy.
I'd take your brutal honesty
But nobody has spoken to me in years
Nobody has tried to reach beneath the fog
I'm not worth that kind of effort.
It's okay. Just go.
Copyright © Gina Young | Year Posted 2019
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Gina Young Poem
I'm not a likeable person. I've never understood how to be good and adored. The past is only filled with characters that weren't liked or loved or adored much at all...
I became the monster I had feared so much. The unloved, untouched sour grape. I don't know sweetness. I'm acidic and reviling.
Give my heart a ing revolution. Even at minimum wage, this full time job is prosperous. The taxes are extraordinary... I owe more than I'll ever have. The government of my heart is a screaming debt.
And if you pass me on the street, I'm just hoping you remember that my emotional legs were amputated before I learned to speak. I'm an empty well. Fill me with blazing polished stones, or colorless dirt. The choice is yours and mine alone.
Copyright © Gina Young | Year Posted 2019
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Gina Young Poem
If you don't have at least a few people who hate you, you're not living right. Inaction trumps controversy when it comes down to what is truly evil. You keep looking at the world and you say how awful it is, so much suffering, so much violence, oppression, people stuck in abject poverty. You tell everyone that you don't agree with the political state. And you idle your way through a lifetime. Going with the flow and you keep everything you have. Clawing at self-preservation, self-interest. Wave to your fans. Continue being adored for not speaking out. You let the world around you fill up with lies until you're drowning in it. And I hope you never have to be disliked to make a change. Keep your comfort and sleep easy little sheep. Mind control comes free. Turn on the TV.
Copyright © Gina Young | Year Posted 2019
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