I Have Not Changed

today i am going to run on the treadmill until either my lungs or my legs give out

the pain will remind me to exist

Time Is A Flat Circle

Nothing has changed since 10 years ago.

I am still that child who can do no right.

I still remember those same fears.

Fears of you. Fears of them. Fears of it.

I still remember those same people.

People who yell. People who hate. People who don't care.

I still make those same mistakes.

Rush-job, know-I-shouln't-but-I-do, idiotic mistakes.

I still beat myself up for it and do your job for you.

The yelling, the crying, the emptiness in the soul.

I still hate myself just the same.

Treating myself like shit, calling myself like shit, selling myself like shit.

I still love you all just the same.

Emptying my bucket for you, burning myself at the stake, taking your place in the gutter.

I still sort of want to kill myself.

The freedom, the release, the escape.

I still am a coward.

The fear, the chains, the inaction.

I am still that child who does only wrong.

Nothing has changed since 10 years ago.

Impostor

I, a false pretender to the throne

command thee thus: stay away

from me, from my filth, from the

degeneracy of my very being.

There is nothing good here.

No beauty to redeem. No

great ambition or fame

to be found in this husk.

Do not argue. You may not

tell me about how great I already am.

I fear you may convince me. It feeds

the narcissism, the complacency.

I will not be great. I will not be good.

Do not place your hopes upon me.

I merely take and take and take what's not mine

so that I can pretend I had a part in creation.

Go. Cast my chains off thee.

Be free. Be happy. Be real.

I will hold myself back and watch

with a jealous, happy smile.

This Bottled-Up Rage

Hey, dad. You've given me a lot over the years. You've given me everything I have. You've pushed me to everything I did well.

You've also given me a lot of rage. You've given me a lot to hate about. You've given me a lot of trauma.

There's a lot that I want to say here but I can't. Because that would be stupid. Of course it would.

And so I'm stuck now with this mass of boiling rage and hatred and all of it

This fucking stupid idiotic terrible legacy you've passed down

Just hate hate hate nothing but hate just hate

Rage against everyone and everything

But don't actually say it out loud

Just keep it all tucked away

Like a shelf with

ten thousand

big bottles

of rage

tucked

safely

away

.

Loneliness

A tree falls

Nobody around to hear

It makes a sound.

But it doesn’t matter.

I tell a joke

Not particularly good

People around

Nobody listening.

I laugh with myself.

I laugh at myself.

What a funny joke!

Both are funny jokes!

Is this how

God feels, in his kingdom

Of everything

High up above, alone

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‼️prints here

As I put my elbow on the table and the hand under my mastoid bone and grab at my short hair I stop and think

wow okay, that felt strangely feminine why did I do that

The Foundations of Love

How can I get you to care about people? How can I get you to be kind?

Why do you think love happens? Why do you think people are altruistic at all?

It's not because someone told them to be, I'll tell you that much.

It's because love and kindness are what the world thrives on.

Nobody wins by being angry all the time. No man is an island.

The world is not zero-sum. Kindness shared is kindness tripled.

But I'll assume this doesn't convince you, or you would've found the path by age five.

Let's consider the people who were solitary. The people who didn't love.

Evolution filtered them all out. Evolution championed kindness.

And if that's not a good enough reason to love, then I don't know what is.

Notice

I think I'm going to stop posting poetry. I've had enough. The depression hits exactly the same as always and I can't come up with anything new. The words are splayed out in front of you all - they will allow you to peer into my very soul - and there's nothing more for my poems to tell you, no arrangement of words that brings anything new to the table. Anything I make now will be rehashings of everything in the previously, and I don't think I can come up with anything new or good.

Good day to all.

May whatever God is up there see the insincerity of my penance.

Edit: I may continue posting cryptic shit because I'm eccentric like that fr.

Depression is a Drug

Depression is a drug

and I think I have become addicted

To that sense of despair.

It tells me, softly:

"it's okay. Nothing matters anymore."

"You can be as lazy as you want."

But what's more is that

I have built up a tolerance

and it no longer excites me.

I am no longer enthralled

By the infinite sadness.

I am only bored by it.

I want for more.

I hope for the moments that crush my soul.

The moments where the guilt and anger and sadness come in waves.

I look for the moments where my soul goes dark and my heart empties out.

But I am stuck in the quagmire of boring, base sadness.

and I am still controlled by it.