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Literature Text
I am livid and bleeding.
I am seething but you have conveniently deprived me of an outlet. Instead I dig my nails into the sides of my face as I rock back and forth in poorly suppressed anger and frustration.
My words are impotent and useless. I want to scream but you have sewn shut my mouth with your arrogance and lack of trust.
I want to strangle you but being that you're already lying in some sterilized bed for attempting to self terminate your own way, I suppose the gesture is moot.
No.
I changed my mind. I want to slap you. Slap you so hard you taste the life in your mouth. Hot, coppery and shocking.
Not that it matters. I am lying here. Alone. With blood beneath my nails and my boiling anger threatening to drag me down into a deadly churning whirlpool of scalding hatred.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow I should be better and hopefully more calm when I walk into your room. But tonight I am
Ineffective.
Futile.
Useless.
Furious.
Bleeding.
Alive.
I am seething but you have conveniently deprived me of an outlet. Instead I dig my nails into the sides of my face as I rock back and forth in poorly suppressed anger and frustration.
My words are impotent and useless. I want to scream but you have sewn shut my mouth with your arrogance and lack of trust.
I want to strangle you but being that you're already lying in some sterilized bed for attempting to self terminate your own way, I suppose the gesture is moot.
No.
I changed my mind. I want to slap you. Slap you so hard you taste the life in your mouth. Hot, coppery and shocking.
Not that it matters. I am lying here. Alone. With blood beneath my nails and my boiling anger threatening to drag me down into a deadly churning whirlpool of scalding hatred.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow I should be better and hopefully more calm when I walk into your room. But tonight I am
Ineffective.
Futile.
Useless.
Furious.
Bleeding.
Alive.
Literature
Who I Am
I watch the ocean,
As the waves hit the sand,
And each grain that's found there,
Is a little piece of who I am
(Who I am...)
There is one for my dignity,
One for everything that I believe
One for every lie I've ever told...
Every secret that I've sold...
Every love that grew cold...
There is one for laughter,
Because it fills my days
There is one for every debt,
That I have yet to repay
There is one for all my friends,
And one for all my sins
There is one for every future,
That could come my way
The ocean is my song,
Everyday I sing along
The waves are the rhythm that moves me...
Through them I am complete...
I watch the
Literature
Do Not Forget
Burning bright,
Like a fire's light.
The sun appears,
The moon whispers tears.
I raise my eyes,
And forget my lies.
The sun knows all,
I've no way to stall,
This law before,
I wait no more.
Heaven's judge awaits,
I must face my fates.
For in this hour,
I cannot cower.
Forgive my lies,
I apologize.
Forgive my sins.
I am done here,
I face the fear.
For my own hands,
they write new lands.
In my own mind,
I cannot find,
What I believe,
Now many grieve.
I say farewell,
I here have fell.
Into the wind,
I can't rescind.
My arms are spread,
My days are dead.
Good-bye my friend,
This is the end.
A new day will come,
Literature
I Am Going to Worship Myself
I have decided on an interesting course of action. Rather than waste my time
worshiping some deity that may not even exist, I'm just going to worship myself.
It's true, and I'll tell you why:
I'm easy to please, I don't require human sacrifice, although to keep myself happy,
I just might do it every so often. I'm not in need of monetary donations, I have my own. I don't need wars fought over, around, and about me, the war that's been going on in my head for 34 years is enough, thank you muchly! Coffee, computers, video games, and writing keep my chin up, and my spirits high, although a steady infusion of Transformers is often required.
S
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yeah.
a friend of mine attempted to overdose that morning.
I was not pleased.
Suggestion request: Does it flow well?
#321
a friend of mine attempted to overdose that morning.
I was not pleased.
Suggestion request: Does it flow well?
#321
Comments51
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I love the descriptions of raw emotion in this piece. It's very powerful and re-readable. As a reader I really do feel your anger, so to speak. I hope everything gets better for you.
I wouldn't worry about the flow. It flows very well though I would say I'd call this a very short bit of free form prose rather than poetry.
But that's just my personal opinion. Pay it no mind. Well done on such a good piece!