Performative Grief

Twisted Up

When life's going well

it gets hard as hell

to let myself frown.

When everything's swell

but my thoughts won't gel

I begin to drown.

Guilt, black and writhing

clings to me, hiding

and oh how it grows.

I know I'm whining.

I should be smiling.

This 'feeling' thing blows.

My mind should be fine,

life's all in a line,

smelling like a rose.

Although asinine

my heart's all malign

and I'm sorry.

The Outsider

I wander through the wilds

In the distance lie lights as bright as my own starry nights

And just like the stars, the lights are never alone

I wander close to those hallowed walls

Tall and cold stone, so cold I feel it through my bones and it reminds me that I'm alone

But beyond these walls, beyond this cold, the flames of kindred spirits grow old

They dance and burn, warming one another in shared bliss, but all it does is remind me that something is amiss

I wander through the words, thoughts swirling in my head

They jumble and tangle, fumble and dangle like they're hanging on thread

They stick like stones in my throat

I open my mouth

Nothing comes out

Desperately clinging to the friends I could be meeting, I claw at the walls

Climbing up and up towards those hearth warmed halls

But my courage wanes, another failure, another bad memory found as I fall to the ground without a sound

and I continue wandering through the wilds.

Wishes

I wish I could draw

I wish I could write

I wish I would die

I wish I would think

I wish I was hot

I wish I was fun

I wish I knew me

I wish I knew you

I wish I stopped wishing

And actually did something.

The Hungry Flower

We look at them, heart blooming,

for we hope they can complete us.

We speak with them, kind words falling like rain over a meadow,

for we think they can complete us.

We flock to them, like a bee to a garden,

for we want them to complete us.

We rely on them, as dependent as a growing bulb,

for we need them to complete us.

We become frustrated with them, as if we were a plant outgrowing a pot,

for we fear they could never complete us.

We abandon them, a wintertime plot,

for we know they could never complete us.

We do it all again, as repetitive as the sun in the sky,

for we do not know that no one can complete us.

Vindictive

You wounded my pride so I want you to bleed.

Eye for an eye? Fuck that. I'd go for the throat.

Take more than my fair share.

Make your pain look baroque.

My ego needs to feed.

Alone I lay here

Quietly wondering if

You're dreaming of me

Perception

I spy

something you could never see

with my little eye.

Me.

For this world is mine and mine alone;

Surroundings coloured by my own perception.

I'm afraid as you are not my clone

you cannot gaze into my reflection.

All I know has been tainted by that terrible two,

Experience and Expectation.

Because of them you can only guess my view

or give up, give in to resignation.

This futility, however, never dulls our ambition

to satisfy our communicative human condition.

Running Up the Stairs

Slow down, my dear Self, stay calm,

make sure you walk before you run.

Be cautious lest your head gets spun!

You know that you're prone to bomb

things that are placed in your palm.

I know, I know, it feels so fun...

high hopes and the best has begun,

but remember, heed the qualm!

Although... if you are cautious,

avoid the pain, and guard your heart

then are you truly living?

Doesn't that make you nauseous?

Is it not a costly part

to slave under misgivings?

Selfish

Shower me with praise and affection.

Sometimes I'll reciprocate.

Put me before anyone else

and watch in reverent awe as I masturbate.

If you dare exist outside of my world,

I'll throw a fit

and lock myself away, expecting you to submit.

Dote upon me, and make sure to ask

"What's wrong? Are you ok?"

or I'll think the bridge is burned

and once again don my mask.

I know is bad behaviour

and I know it's not quite fair.

I try to keep it hidden,

stuffed away somewhere.

But like a starving beast

it rears it's ugly head

and when I see I'm not the sun

I wish one of us was dead.

On Love

You always hear

"Love hurts"

But what they don't tell you is this:

To love is easy

Between dreamy fantasy

Or memory sweetened by time

To be loved is like taming a wild animal

Often unattainable

And you always get bitten