You Before Me (I’m Not Mad, Just Broken)

Phil Kaye taught me that

if you repeat something enough,

it loses its meaning.

 

I have spent so much time

trying to give purpose to your life

that I have lost my own.

 

I do not know how to tell you

that I am a hypocrite.

 

I spend so many hours

coaxing the safety back on your gun,

with a finger on my own trigger.

 

I convince you to live

while planning my death.

 

I hold hands with my demons

while breaking down yours.

 

I do not know how to ask for help

because you always request it first.


Check out my book, The Four Stages of Poetry, now available on amazon.

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Sacrificing Angels

I know it’s not my best piece, and normally something such as this would be discarded, but I’ll share anyway. 

 

I ask my demons why,

bribing them with angels.

 

They chew on the halos

like teething rottweilers.

 

Their diet is a fad

made of my happiness.

 

They strip me to bone,

then tell me my fears;

 

“Don’t worry my child,

it’s all in good fun.”


Check out my book, The Four Stages of Poetry, now available on amazon.

Bipolar

Mr. Doctor Boy,

not quite man,

Can you show me

how to change the chemical composition of my brain?

Can you take authority

and claim to know how to cure me?

Mr. Doctor Boy,

Didn’t your father teach you

how to arrange dopamine and serotonin

in the correct orders?

Tell me of noradrenaline,

norepinephrine,

help me understand,

Mr. Doctor Boy,

be a man and fix me.


Check out my book, The Four Stages of Poetry, now available on amazon.

Clean

It has been six months / but sometimes / I still think of you / still miss the refuge I found in you / miss the way were my medication / calming the pain / my brain couldn’t cope with on its own / It has been six months / but sometimes / I still miss you / I search / for a new addiction / writing my stories in poems / instead of my… / sometimes I still miss you / still miss the way you helped / in some sick and twisted way / still miss you / but no longer need you / no longer itch for your touch / when I can’t feel my own / no longer read the stories in my scars / instead hide them in my words / It has been six months / but sometimes / I still think of you / still miss you / but never need you.


Check out my book, The Four Stages of Poetry, now available on amazon.

My Body

My body / tells me / I should be ashamed / of how I treat it / That I should not / be allowed / to own it / if I cannot / take care of it / I smile / apologize / promising / to try harder / Promise / to stop tearing my skin to shreds / Promise / to stop licking bombshells / promise / to leave the injuries to someone / other than myself / This was / six years ago / three years ago / six months ago / This was / recent past / past nonetheless / I spend the present / apologizing / to everything / I put it through / We may never / have a healthy relationship / but my guilt runs deep / My body / knows / I am sorry / every time / I look / in the mirror / judge / what I have turned it into / a piece of art / sculpted / into something / I am unable / to admire / I am unable / to see / the beauty in.


Check out my book, The Four Stages of Poetry, now available on amazon.