Last Days

I’ve been here before
walls crowded
with chatter
broken to bits
by bulldozed anger
rage of a different kind

a heart fragile
a mind overwhelmed
fingers lay unfolded
as hearts become broken

eyes once fiery
with affection
now turn amiss
at the sight of me

at the height
of our extinction
I glanced at her
once more

a love uncomplicated
laid to rest

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Broken Mend

Broken Mend

slit writs drip exhaustion
searching for a higher calling
valuing only a name on lips
not worth a mention
stuck in this dentention
bound by mistakes
and failed attempts to forgive

bloodied by life’s blows
blackened eyes and broken
hearts don’t cause tear ducts
to flow free
though I seek atonement
sanctuary from the thoughts
resting in a mind with no room
for looking back

I count down to almost
even when it doesn’t count
knowing the smallest victories
won’t mean a thing tomorrow

yet – I hold
with a firm grasp
the I love you escaping
from lips
that won’t dare
repeat that sin

Sickening

Sickening

The
thought
of
you
brings vomit to the surface

swallowed hard
just to regurgitate
the contents of your disdain

your wayward promiscuity seeking jealousy has rendered
me a lifeless sack weighing
your promises against
my mistakes cause an angst
I swear to break

to take your fake love
to my grave
will only let you win
a war never intended
your knife through my heart
the facade now broken

Journal Entry #6

I expected to be over this, but apparently, I’m not.  A couple of days ago, I got into a cab, cane in hand and positioned myself in the seat accordingly. The cabbie proceeds to make small talk, however, in the most inappropriate way. He asks me if I was veteran from the war (due to the I guess). I told him that a strained a muscle in hopes that the Conversation would ne over, but considering the way my life has been this year, I should have known better.

The cab driver begins to emphasize my can informed me that I should be glad that its temporary and not a permanent disability.  I’m floored at this point and I hear my therapist’s voice telling me to breathe.  I was there seconds from busting this man’s head with cane.

I know he didn’t mean any harm, but how offensive can one person be; how ignorant do you have to be to say something like that.  My blood was boiling then and it is boiling now.

Confused Fury

   Confused Fury  

          I.

lies vanish at night’s beginning regret runs rapid
when only lonely can console me

          II.

caught in this hell storm
colored crimson
tears map out
the last years
of my life from what’s left
on this face I remember

          III.

courage pulled
from the cracks deep
inside the cement forming
around lungs breathing revenge

           IV.

placed
that barrel in my mouth
and pulled the trigger
why am I still here?

Enough of This

Tonight I’m filled with sadness and anger. I’m tired of being judged on the way I feel. I can’t stop loving Veronica no more I can change the way I walk, yet I feel like if I bring her up in any sentimental way, I get crucified for it.  “oh she’s an ex, don’t talk to her and don’t listen to anything she has to say, she’s using you”. I am so tired of people trying to plant seeds of doubt in what’s mine and mine alone.  She is my ex so it makes her my problem.  If I want to say I worry about her safety, she is my soulmate, I love her and I want her to be happy, I will. If I want to cry over her I will.  If you people out in the world don’t want to hear about her, just walk away. You are not for me. I don’t need anyone to tell me that she doesn’t love me. Fuck that, she does and if I’m in denial then I will be in denial. You don’t know her like I do by Brantley Gilbert is a perfect representation of how I feel.  If you don’t like it, I do. Some days I will be miserable and others, I will be ok. I’m just trying to deal here. Give me some slack in regards to the woman I wanted to marry and have kids with.

Fuck everyone who thinks otherwise.