My love of life is only skin-deep
because inside, I’m empty
lens pointing to the wild
alienation penetrates the bottomless pit of my lungs
and I look up to that fucking sun
and think ‘I will shoot you, you fucking cunt.’
depression
I don’t want to stay
If only I was a balloon
you could let go
and I could fall up
till snared by the branch of a tree
there I could hang free.
My despair has me embroiled
in so much deceit
staying alive
only for people to reach
This isn’t a life worth living
resentment is the moon
propelling the tides in my head
only sticking around
so others don’t have to think me dead
trying to die within
so I can be an animated memory
for those who claim me.
Let words fall from my lips
as empty as they may be
dead inside, but they won’t have to see
What can I say
I’m trying to stay
but how I hope something takes me away
Fucking.
I will take him into my mouth
to swallow this dirty truth
that innocence was only ever illusion
we were born as much of the dirt
as the water that cleanses us
in this cannibalistic earth
even if love does not mark the skin
only animalistic ruin
there is nothing more tender
than fucking.
Superficial
I love the earth no more than I love myself
I want to eviscerate myself
as much as we have the earth
I want to kill the skeleton in my skull
gnashing its teeth
like a ghost without a home
masticating on its lonesomeness
in nightmares kept for times like this
I want to spill my guts
but the blade won’t cut deep enough
because, to be blunt
I’m a superficial cunt
Brain addled with depression
Everything deflates me
including the rise of the sun
and in the air, writes the total sum
absolutely nothing
Living on a soundwave
My mind terraforms this alien soundscape
Tendrils reaching down, down, down
a spark of something unseen
an inverted skeleton
without a smile but a frown
propelling myself as a jellyfish
up, up and out
Electric sirens seeking me out
A torment of screeching ghouls
screaming from my mouth
A stream of consciousness 2
The sounds drew ripples around us
containing us
wrinkled and transformed
waves of consciousness anchored
bearing witness to this gathering
of all matter created in our image
a conglomeration of everything and nothing
a hoard of haves and have nots
a buildup to ‘just fucking stop!’
Too much, too much one
too much none
a climatic climb
an anticlimactic drop
rust falling from antiquated props
traditions burning candles
with prayers answered, not
swindled of thought
trajectories yet untold
falling below this ocean
of accumulations sold.
Dunno
I’ll smoke another cigarette
to put another nail in my coffin
I keep thinking I might be getting close to rest
but still, I keep on going
torn between fear and loathing
Why do I keep trying to do my best
Can’t I just stay in tracksuit bottoms and vest
loafing around with no will to do anything
but in jest
Why is everything always about progress
what if I just want to stay here
where I regress?
They say it’s okay not to be okay
but I still think I feel ashamed
Is it okay to not be okay
and stay the same?
The waves he broke
I regress
that child long since passed
coming of age the bark was etched and sketched
autumns blush hushed into the movement
falling gracefully as if all was as it was meant to be
a trail of desire he’d written into the landscape
he was wild as a deer
weedy and nervous
easily flushed
trailing away from man
he ran like the river below
bubbling and frothing with too much flow
branches snapping under the waves he broke
A cage of memoriam
I am a wolf
wrestling with the feast
of missing you
I have dreams of a reunion
only to wake with only these bones
so I tell myself
I’m better off alone
in a cage of memoriam for you
silverbackgorillapoetry.com 