Acidic poems for the soul of the tainted;
for everyone who ever poured their hearts into something
and had to watch it fade into… nothing.
the pain in my heart disallows my head to breathe
I cannot think of anything
only the everything in my mind
burning my soul, driving me insane,
my body trying to remember what its like to feel whole
i cannot say anything
nice to anyone about anything…
My words were sealed in little coffins
of technology locked away from me.
Hello new world; hello this is my face.
I lost trace of the old me in the words I used to believe in.
Ghosts of the bitter days gone by; some how seem brighter than today.
I cannot win, even when I am winning
I some how forgot
there is a future to be planning for.
I forgot how to say things with a little mystery
I’ve forgot how to write metaphorical poety;
It doesn’t seem like much; but the death of my words;
Is the death of me.
I’ve locked away pieces of my soul like little mummies;
to be resurrected one day’ upon opening that tomb of pain
leading to the gateway of the past in which I found myself;
No one likes looking upon fresh corpses; there is no beauty in the recently dead;
Yet my graveyard is filled with recent murders,
No good person should find.
I keep looking to the past
the master pieces in which I once lost myself.
Like a child trying to climb back into the womb
I struggle to breathe oxygen
like a normal person.
Someone help me breathe.
Someone help calm this anxiety;
so one day…
I may again; write beautiful poetry.