Showing posts from July, 2010

Dark Inventory continued...

I love moods.
Assortments of me
and moment makers.
Decisions made based
on unformed feelings.
Non acceptance?

My mother now sleeps on the couch in this blurred unkempt section of my life. The wrists are still not respected. They are held as ransom for attention. The Pastor of our church is called and is on his way to the house. I’m sitting outside after another carving. I am staring at the patterns on my wrist kind of high as my arm lifts the cigarette to my mouth. I know my parents won’t call the hospital or the police again for fear of losing me. The issue with the wrists have almost become a routine for all of us. I understand my parents turn to the church. I am excited by this attention, the more the merrier. Its so dark and I can only see from the light off the kitchen. The road wraps around the house from the left side of the house to our driveway. I can hear in the distance the squeal and hum of the engine. From around the corner I can see the silhouette of the pastor …

Dark Inventory continued...

sporadic realizations,
suffocation under devastating
swollen motivation,
is it the opposite of

I don’t dream. I haven’t for a long while. I have tried to make sense of things, but it has gotten me too many unapproving looks. "Quite down!" is how I translate those smirks. My vivid dreams years ago filled me with ideas I used to write down furiously in different colored notebooks. Before I felt the need to erase. Accepting what I am told and taught year after year would probably not be one of my strong suites.
My early days were ran for me. I allowed it. I let my friends make decisions for me. The lack of self esteem allowed me to be a slave to everyone but myself. I am alone now. So I question. A forceful cleaning of the slate.
I was finally starting to break free of a disgusting grip. My recently lost friendship, which I finally denied was my only decision making process up to this point. My self esteem was buried until this moment. I felt it bu…

Dark Inventory continued...

there is a past that lives,
it breaths,
and it haunts.
It is an inner bullet,
cocked and ready to be used,
for any occasion that suits...

Apart from the somewhat real world I try to live in day to day, the serene scene I purposely abstract in my melon is somewhat of a fuel for my real chaos. The truth I grasp and disregard. The hate, the pain, and the embarrassment I passionately sort, file and manage for future use. I fall into a sort of dream meditation. Everything is melting away around me, everything about me is soaked in doubt and pity. I allow this emotional binge to occur as I melt away on the sour smelling sheets of my coffin size bed. I sizzle inside myself because I am willingly flipping a switch, denounces all normal inhibition to heal from any mental pain. I collect any self depravity for an occasion such as this to use against myself, to destroy myself. After therapy I am a roller coaster of thought and reminiscing revenge against any real part of my true self. My past walked r…