Tag Archives: writing

Your Pessimistic Bullshit

The world didn’t condemn you,
It never slit your throat and said
“This is how I’ll end you.”
‘Cause there’s beauty
in a voice so broken,
And it’s one I yearn to hear.
Because I sang that tune in fear,
Till the day I almost died.
And if I had,
Just know I’d be forgotten.
But instead I’m sitting here,
Screaming in your ear
That you are not forgotten,
Listen closely.

This pessimistic bullshit that you leave in trails
is nothing but a deadbeat critic.
You have lost control.
Life is something that entails,
Finding peace of mind
and I hope this letter
finds you just in time.

‘Cause I’ve been where you stood.
Thought my words of deep depression
were not some sick infection of
who I had become.
Slowly I understood that when
the world beats you down,
it means, don’t make a sound.
Joy is merely found,
in the pieces left around.
Who are you,
if not what you’ve been told?
In this you’ll find your soul has not been sold.

The Chaos

Ink smudges as I crumple the paper for a fifth time. I’m silent and unmoving while I contemplate eloquent phrases that could make your eyes shine.

But I can’t be like you.

Though I pride myself in pieces that accurately describe each part of me, it is nothing compared to the breath you exhale. It’s living in the company of someone I admire, and someone I strive to tear down at the same time. But these stories are common to us. I want to hear all the grizzly details of demons that mark our skin when we are alone; you know, I understand the chaos.

If we close our eyes as our stories unfold, it starts to feel like we’re not alone. Still, I write these codes to further myself from any understanding. I can’t seem to let go as you have; so here lies the barrier inside my brain that I hope you can break down.

I could describe a metaphor of a storm that would knock you back, as if I had punched you square in the mouth. And as blood dripped from the corner of your lips, I’d simply stare and wish you’d see the chaos of what I’d done.

But I can’t be like you.

Because every fascination I find in who you are, is chaos that you cannot control.