Dear,
I don’t want to be around permanently unhappy people anymore.
I believe in solutions, in rooting out problems. But all this mental health has left me feeling like no matter what I do, and no matter what you say about how good you’re doing today, I’m gonna see tears tomorrow.
It’s just leaving me hopeless. You want me to be your bridge to walk on from one moment of misery to the next and I just can’t anymore. I’m so sick of feeling like a structure, like I’m too busy holding the anchor to fly.
Apprently emotions aren’t for me because if I do start flying off the handle who is gonna hold me down? You want me to share but you’re literally crying right now.
I’m done. My faith in humanity is shattered. I have given until empty and scraped the bottom like nails on skin and I’m worried that my once fertile soil might not ever grow again.
You win.
Your sadness wins.
Your tears win.
I’m defeated.
Let’s all be sad together.
I’m sick of kissing away pain. I’m sick of giving hope only to watch it be taken away. And at the end of my rope, I’m sick of being blamed.
So I’m signing off.
I need to go compost all this shit that I’ve saved.
And fucking pray, that I’ll be hopeful again one day.
When I’m feeling all that, whether I agree with it or not, I need to spit poison onto paper.
Brittle stick bones crack quick under pressure
Harsh words are said in heads still destined to get sicker
I'm like the nurse of the worst parts of the pestilence
Tipped on cents with no common sense to leave for my betterment
I'm fine with my flaws
I'm fine with my elymus
I'm fine writing stones made of poems in the elements
I don't dress well for the words that you sell
I do it just to keep myself from hell
I don't live well to light a fire under skill
I do it so a younger one can tell
And yeah it's a pattern I use often and swell
But I hate an old thing even still
I don't know if I'm a leaf getting angry at the wind
Or a boat only sailing getting battered, bruised and bent
But it feels a lot closer to a human's worst sins...
We hurt the closest ones in the mend
The earliest words were to let a field rest
Or watch paradise turn to dust in your hands
Even Jesus Christ said to feed an ox while he sweats
And to take the sabbath well even if sunday's a mess
Calamity is kept in family whims
if the sun then sets catch the lamb on the chin
save yourself, save a friend
whether chance or intent
you're a sponge for the hurt that a self cannot wring
Keeping dark under wing
clean cuts dirty sheen
When the hands working hard reach for brambles as bling
Bleed silent in fear, of a lot more tears
cause you can't keep a good dog down over years…
it's a lie
Even loyal dogs die
If they're slapped for bringing a blue ball back out of spite
Now I'm tired
A dead cell, dead filled mire
Let a little more empty transpire
Lord, please let me be fired
I'd rather go hungry at home
Than feel neither
Sometimes I just want to go home
but it's briared
Sometimes I just want to go home
and not be home
Sometimes I just want to go home and not be home
Sometimes I just want to go home...and not always have to be a home