Cut Poem #1:
On my own I shall carry on-
And try with all I am to accept it-
That lonliness is all that I will ever know in the end.
And there will always be separation.
Each beautiful enigma that I covet
Sparkling bright & glitttering with novel
Will spawn emotion I can no longer handle..
And will turn to ash and sting my eyes..
Or without explaination make haste to leave me...
And again I will be left alone
To my own hateful thoughts,
And violent self-image.
Fear for me, for I can not be nice to myself.
and thoughts of other
invoke the need for blood.
For the sting of salt from my tears
In my fresh open wounds.
It is a [sadomasochistic] sanctuary that I seek each time.
And each time, I cower in regret.
But each time I return foolishly.
Because I know no other way to soothe me.
I arrive with epiphanies and revelations in motion behind closed lips-
And they are met with poisonous blasts of negative verbage
Before I can allow them to escape.
And each time I attempt to impress upon you,
These sweet surges of soft serenity,
But they are suppressed against your cloud of dispair,
Sometimes penetrated and deflated.,
Sometimes haggard and treated as abominations,
And sometimes you completely murder them, and they remain unheard of.
This invokes in me waves of rage that peak and damper....
Like a storm it starts calm then it rushes, boils and climbs above the brim,
And I fear it will spill from me in fits of violence.
Though, again I suppress.
And I've politely within decided
That my mild meanderings of mysticism and man
Should most likely be withheld for my own sake.
So I shall take them, keep them with me and savor them alone.
So that I save myself from disappointment in your mandatory melancholy.
No excuse for your behaviour,
You are selfish and you are cold.
The images portrayed are false
As you do as you are told.
Spineless, lacking pride.
All that you have taught me
Is to run away and hide.
I sicken of your plastic(ness)
Your facade of utter might.
Always sneaking and withholding
And bending 'til it's right.
Progressively you've become
An opinionless puppet and pawn.
Sealed the deal when the seed was sown,
Soul owned with the birth of it's spawn.
I am barren and woeful.
Rescue me from isolation,
Deliver me from solitude.
Pallid & vacant,
I long to be doted on.
Here's a funny tidbit! Less than a year after I wrote this poem, I GOT MARRIED. After you read it, you'll see the irony.
It seems there will always be
Sorrow in solitude.
My addiction to affection,
it never rests.
And so I often find my mind at wander,
Apparently I am obsessed;
With the contemplation of union,
A concept that could be my demise.
The thought need not be entertained
When the act in its entirety I despise...
Commitment is corruption.
Emotions are entrapment.
Marriage, a mistake.
LOVE is a LIE.
Soft & sweet, I accept it.
That I can not deny my longing
To be adored & doted upon
And so I am torn apart in my need for belonging.
Liberation is empty.
Once set free, I am just alone.
Independence is deception.
Each fear more frightening,
All music possesses a more somber tone.
I face each party with a grin,
Though, inside I cower in tears,
I hide my frustration in smiles,
My weakness will never fall upon your ears.