I was discharged
from the psyche ward I was smoking crack had taken a bottle of sleeping pills to put myself to sleep forever There was a guy I met in the ward named Eddie He was hooked on OCs We were both released the same day exchanged numbers made a pact that we’d stick together and get clean Later that night I played Richard Hell & the Voidoids on my discman as I walked flirted with the mirror ripped up my shirt jumped and stammered looked toward outer space and screamed through the void Only God could hear the joy It felt good to be out of that place When the song ended I passed Greg the cash went home and snorted lines then called Eddie said I screwed up I’m sorry, man but I got high again He was quiet like there was no one there and then he said: Oh, me too. Oxis, man? He was silent I imagine he nodded then dropped the phone clunk--he was gone/// just like that I spent the rest of the night staring at my own reflection Boy did it feel good to be out of that place
0 Comments
the fruit is in the lies
the blood is in my eyes New York calls it the times I say it’s all sublime my face is gross & pockmarked I lost it all to a loanshark people call me a fraud they say: hey Jeremy, you ain’t no god now the time is set got nothing left inside my head I got no reason to fret cuz tomorrow I’ll be good as dead yesterday I contracted a cold I think I might be old got no place to go buy me please I’m sold throw caution to the wind peel away my skin eat up all the mints man life is grim think for yourself I got no good health don’t tell me about your wealth if I was a bottle I’d sit on the bottom shelf now it’s time to smoke gimme something that makes me choke addiction ain’t no joke but it’s me I’m no hoax That’s the biggest problem
with something as glorified as the mirror When you look into it, it never quite captures the image you hold in your own mind Sometimes I gaze through windows That’s something you can’t do with a mirror Like a mirror stops with you But then I peel away the layers of an unfortunate reflection as I watch every last regret wither and die The mirror is bigger than logic Stands above time I peer from down below at something I’ve always hated from day one I believe that’s what it means to be an adult It means regrets remorse & indecisions There’s no adulthood without shame and disappointment Some of us grow up faster than others I suppose/ So here in the mirror there is so much misguided grandeur We the vain have sprouted fangs and wings and horns But in the mirror we release the veil I see everything I wish to forget I always imagine smashing it to pieces because the face that Isee is a stranger to me So I smile and grin all at the same time I wink and sneer because every facial expression just seems so benign I flirt and curse with the devil inside I kiss the tinted car window The shadow of myself is freeing to be seen as it leaves the scene of my own dire self-destruction If only the mirror showed me a blank slate I might be okay/ I watch your face
go blank your eyes red as roses so wide and full of nothing I feel it in your tears The lies you tell me The way you make me feel when you tell me this is it This is all there is your breath like poison ice cubes pouring from sweat glands I tell you there’s more I lie to make it all better I feel your heartbeat slowing as I hold you in my arms as you say my name promising me it’ll all be okay I know that this can’t be the end There has to be more The promises you spread like a toxin Your arms fall and your head is heavy Have you ever driven during a rainstorm at night on a busy street All you can see is an abstract painting of bright, visceral lights The darkness and the road ahead falls out of view to beaming headlights and green red & yellow Sometimes I can see your face when I pass the graveyard where you lay It seems so real these shadows they find me in the dark
I’m just a figment of a troll’s deepest, darkest secrets haunting me so terribly I hide from the amount of stress caused by this terrible troll’s nefarious state of mind It’s a sinners state a backwards reality where humans and monkeys coexist and we’re walking up walls and pogoing on the ceiling Line up to come down, be carried on the back of a vulture, fly high in the sky as you wonder, oh how you wonder, why the day is so bewildered The night is dark and the day is dim I lost my mind when my first friend died; I became complacent and fearful and I hid from the sharks Sometimes we know we know everything, other times we think we have a lot to think about, and finally I ponder about my ponderings it’s such a wonderous world when you actually have the ability to wonder Oh goddamn, I’m lost in a daydream again all the time I’m lost in a whirlpool of thoughts I’m convulsing in the torrential buzz of this thing and that thing so sometimes I smoke weed so I can focus on something else, worry about nonsensical worries and, so focused I delve into a tremor I’m not sure about anything anymore, like who invented boredom apathy & depression, who dreamt up a magical state of being jaded, feeling lost and alone and the only way out might come from a conscious prick I lose my faith when people gain too high of a faith that they must conquer my own faith with their gospel I surrender my face more times than not I’ve fallen into a pit of quicksand and they tell me that this is no way to fuckin live but I’m stuck here and I can’t pull myself out of it Beating my brain in a productive manner is my means to surviving I’ve unhinged a theological tantrum from the top shelf otherwise chained to a toothless grunt Why can’t I get better because I’m trying to surrender, I want to become one with the universe but I’ve fallen too far astray and the only way out comes from a prick of self-confidence Pick me up to knock me down I’ve lost control of the pen and all my thoughts have spilled out; what’s there left to do when you have nothing to do but scream at a wall that doesn’t listen and pound your fist at a sky that doesn’t care Because I’m better than this, my emotional state whirls to another, whips around my noggin so ugly and rotten I scorn those that have made a choice because for me this is a lifestyle this is my saving grace life is just a dream and at times I feel so bitter this is the spirit that has carries me through the darkest of dungeons and for better or worse I’m okay and I guess I’ll always be okay There’s nowhere to go
nothing to do my head heavy with remorse I’ve done too much damage to my soul I can’t get away from the past escape the self-hatred spiraling into a void The world is so dark I can’t find my way Beat my brain with so much angst I can’t understand forgive or absolve my transgressions Falling crashing into a wall I relive these terrible, disturbing patterns as if my feet are anchored to a giant steel ball Sitting on the floor
Praying Searching for numbers Praying to something Reading self-help books Praying for help I Need Help Oh, God please help me That needle feels too fine when it sinks into the first vein you can find When you lower yourself into the floor you watch everything pass you by Life death it’s all too real The truth Flipping the pages Reading for salvation Trying to uncover the reason you do this to yourself You’re so broken There’s a hole in your heart You hocked your soul so long ago that there’s just no going back Oh God, please help ME Somebody fuckin listen to me But it’s too late The weight of existence swallows you up like quicksand God, will somebody come and help me out of this rut You see a hand coming from above From the sky it reaches down to you I’m sorry, brother I wish it got to you sooner Last week I got a mohawk. I think the gay gothic boy who cut my hair was flirting with me. He was in his early 20s. I’m not gay, I’m just vain—I liked the attention.
My high school best friend is texting me every 10 minutes for the past couple months and eventually I had to stop responding so he would stop texting. I’m 35. I figure that with all the damage I’ve done, I’m about halfway through my life. A year younger than me, my old best best friend died of what I believe to be a drug overdose this past Christmas. I have another old friend telling me to come to Mass and visit him. He misses me. Last time I saw him he tried to sell me his own medication. I declined. I got another old friend sending me pictures of the good ol’ days. Everyone’s talking about the good ol’ days, like it means something. Like I wish to relive that horrible, horrible past of mine. In the good ol’ days, yeah I had fun, but that’s only because I hated myself and I wanted to die all the time and I did everything I could to escape this fact. People thought I was fun. Now, I’m boring, they’re boring, we’re all so fuckin boring. There’s no fun anymore, no adventures to be had. Some of us still drink, but at least we’re not destroying other people’s lives and making ourselves feel like shit. At least I’m happy—er. Sometimes I have breakdowns. I have fits. Sometimes I don’t trust the people I should be trusting the most. I’m a sensitive boy who wishes harm on no one, but sometimes I feel like I’m being tested. Like my patience is being put on the testing block. Sometimes I still hate myself. Sometimes I still do want to die. Sometimes I wish to relive my glory days too. Sometimes I wish I had a time machine and I could do it all over again and I wouldn’t change a thing. Just rewind and I’m back in the shitter. Then I look in the mirror and I’m like fuck, I’m an adult now. Better start acting like one. But what does that even mean? Can someone tell me, please? There used to be, like in the 50s and 60s and 70s and 80s and 90s, a standard for adulthood and I assume when they hit the age of 18, they were forced to grow up. Every adult when I was a kid knew what they were doing. Me and all the other millennials are openly clueless. We live in an age where all standards of living are being challenged. Including adulthood. It’s like we’ve been having a midlife crisis since our 20s and we’re still deep in it, 10 years later. How does an adult act? I think they’re supposed to be serious all the time and take care of business. The problem with that is I’m physically incapable of taking anything seriously and I don’t seem to have any business that needs to be taken care of. So how do I grow up if I have no purpose? I don’t think I’m alone here. Everyone my age, or younger, feels like they have no purpose. This fake brand of ethics that got the past generations through, has now been challenged and without it we are lost. Everyone my age seems to agree with this when I talk to them. In the movies, the adults are just as openly clueless as me, because these movies were written by people who’d grown up in my generation. Another morning
broken skies the sun trying to pass the blockage in my mind Another blue day death is on the horizon one crisis leads to the next Another hopeless soul lost like so many Another day without a break a gloomy, irate feeling a brooding like spittle grows on the tip of my tongue I try to wait more occasions fading in and out of existence To exist is to suffer Another way to escape set the grass on fire watch the front lawn burn leaving it all behind lost in a torrential downpour of flaming truths so harmful they sting Another soulless ritual wake up brush your teeth take a piss scratch your ass scratch the ripple from behind your eyes Another year what’s the point |
Archives
January 2024
Categories
All
|