Help me
Let me out of this box now
Come to me
Lead into the shadow
Drink it and swallow make sure you get last drop
Untangle and humor the dazing you can’t block
Interview the rear view till it can speak back
Have a good day now they’ll find
you
Underneath the pavement is a world of green and blue
There’s salt and vinegar and talc like lemonade
And between the tiles of granite yet still on the surface
Is an ant
Who is unaware
Opalescence is just a way for something to glow
Glows of themselves only are bright because they were once dim
And I can’t say I’m stupid
I won’t because I’m not
But I will say I’m trying
And I’m not going to stop
It’s all been too much work
I want to but I won’t
It’s stressful and I lack the time
But the best things in life glow
None of this came out right
I don’t know to express this and it’s not that
I didn’t give it the whole night because I did and it
still won’t help me
resist
I want to take time back from setting
my clock
Those wasted minutes as I twisted a knob for
the tick tock
You never dared and you didn’t do enough
and it never will be
I see the flower and I feel the way that I felt then
It’s a different hour but the senses, memories; match
Between the flower and where I walked was a view of new
A novelty alone for me, a high from life and waterfalls and dice
I didn’t walk all the way away but it’s out of sight
I don’t think I can still see the glass lit light
No, I can, but maybe it’s afraid of me
It’s never going to change
The shards of light pierce right through me
A Projection On Paper Poem Prolongation (I had to try too hard for that alliteration…)
Down in the dark in cold concrete cave past evergreen trees.
He lays on his side, waiting to die, and lets out a cough.
I walked by the man and felt a chill.
Perfectly still.
Deathly ill.
It was as if I was him in that moment that gave me the fright.
I walked away slowly, back into the light.
Back up to the campus.
And back to my room.
I stayed there an hour.
Then had to move.
I stepped outside.
Still saw his face.
I knew he was there.
Left for dead.
Without a trace.
I wanted to go back.
But something kept me away.
I stayed on the bench.
And let my thoughts drift away.
Next week I had a test.
I couldn’t afford to stand out.
I should let him lay there.
No one knows him besides.
I had to avoid being discovered.
They could not know I had went undercover.
The college’s rules were strict.
Death was the master.
I still thought of that man.
This school is a disaster.
Author’s Note: An extension on Man in the Darkness. I’m still not too impressed by it, but I wanted to extend it.
I hate you.
In the summer, you are pleasant and peaceful,
but every windy winter day, you transform into a snowy, biological torture test.
You are the reason I have to wear two layers.
In fact, before I reach you, my coat is usually flopped over my left arm, and I probably said something about how wonderful the weather was.
The second I step onto your pavement, I shudder at the sudden chill and am forced to scramble to equip myself properly. I take my hat from my left pocket, fold the brim and pull it over my head. I take my gloves and put them on as my fingers start to turn white. And then I walk. Your unrelenting wind forces me to keep my head down, and I thank the world that I have glasses to keep sharp, stray snowflakes from colliding with my eyes at a wind speed of over fifteen miles per hour. And as I reach the end of the street and cross over to La Salle and S 11 St, your wind drops away and I have warmth once more. And then, it occurs to me, that the reason I am warm now, the drop of skyline over the respite of St. Thomas Universality, is the same reason that I was cold walking here. And I question why I always walk down your hellish route of a wind tunnel. There are so many other streets, all of which more pleasant by which I could reach Hennepin. And yet I keep coming back to you.
I’ve tried too many times to figure
this out.
So instead I will try to forget
the situation I’ve sprinted my way to, though.
This isn’t the easiest path to conceive
but I won’t find anther route.
I’d rather cast you off.
Get out of my mind.
Get off of my road.
I’ve known you too long.
And now its time for you to go.
And you will run.
Run like clouds at dawn.
You will never be found.
(If you will not by me)
I’m sick of working for illusions of desire,
and for words that you never speak.
Of trying to make you see how you
are so beautiful.
So just run away.
I’m not giving up.
No, I’m seeing the finale.
It just happens that involves being done with you.
I don’t wish you ill, I only dream you
gone.
Find someone else to torture
with your apathy.
Leach and feed on their mind
and see how long they survive.
Author’s Note: I’m extremely empathetic (unlike this character at the end of his rope) and writing this was a challenge. I still wanted to write it. Pretty mean note. I used a lot of language found in Illusion, but they are not (that) related in topic. I have had a few people call Illusion an anti-love letter though. Illusion was more about just knowing people (and if you can), so I took some of that and put it in here.
I don’t want to go to sleep
because I want to live forever
and if the day never ends
then I will never die
Diamonds fall like crystallized rain
Frozen in the endless
expanse of time
in memoriam.
Hanging in the space
between the winds,
and the storm,
and ice.
Trapped but not restrained, the glitters
exist there by their own choosing,
but do not choose
only exist.
Because shining is not a decision,
and proximity is often frail,
so while they are here,
they are not near.