This is a collection of some of the poetry I've written throughout the last year.
Mostly just emotional bull shit.
But hell, it got me by. Titles are in bold, separation between two pieces is a triple spaced.
There's no such thing as a friend.
What we call friends are just people
which will eventually fade away from us.
I would rather call someone I have never met
than someone that I have known my whole life.
Everyone's lives are all just big messes.
It's just a jumble of people and things to do,
with no real purpose.
There will always be something that you find you like,
but on the inside, you know that you hate it.
You know you hate all of it.
Every person, every thing
in the universe that we call home.
But you dare not notice your own feelings,
for when you do, you know that you are not who you want to be.
There's no way to feel that you actually fit in,
with all of these people.
They say that everybody is unique.
If everybody is unique, that makes us all similar.
We are all unique,
which makes us the same.
I want it.
When all your life,
everything you want is given to you,
you find that when you truly want something,
more than anything else,
you cannot have it.
I ask for one thing that I really want,
during my whole life.
and during the blink of an eye,
that one, special thing was taken.
It was in my sight and even in my reach.
I wanted it.
Oh, so how badly I wanted it.
But when I realized just how so,
it was too late.
So subtly, and so gracefully, had someone taken it,
I could not even realize how swift it had been.
I thought, I thought, and I thought,
for the longest of whiles,
until the ultimate state of melancholy
of which I had been placed had been shattered
into a million little pieces by the realization of my defeat.
That state had been replaced with a state of hate and envy.
I envy you. I need what you have.
I am on the brink of insanity. I need this.
Please, please, oh please.
Return to me what you have taken.
Give me back my what you have stolen from me.
Give me back my mind,
and my heart...
Please, I beg of you. I need it.
I am a robot.
You are a robot.
Humans are creatures of habit.
We do the same thing, day after day.
When do things change?
We are ALL robots.
We all do the same thing,
day after day,
without a thought,
just as everybody else.
The animals, the plants, us too.
All the animals do is kill for food.
The plants? They just take a sunbath all day. Nothing different.
The humans? We're like trains. We go on a track, unable to do whatever whenever.
If you want to get off, there's only one way.
There is no escaping our mindless lives.
You are a robot.
No turning, no running away.
You don't get to choose your path.
It's chosen for you.
There is nothing you can do.
You are hopeless, helpless, and defenseless.
You are simple-minded.
You are a robot.
I don't want.
I've always hated that awkward moment
when someones ask you what you want.
How can anyone want anything, when they have all that they need?
It makes no sense to me.
Am I different? Is that why I can't help myself?
I hate it.
I just can't do it.
This fear rejects my lifestyle.
It doesn't let me live in this society of greed.
I can't do it.
But I can't not do it.
I can't find a way out...
Nowhere to go where everyone else is just like me.
When life starts to hate you, hate it back.
Nobody ever really cared.
They play with you. They just rip into your mind, and destroy you.
And now, it's time for you to fight back!
Learn the art of it.
Learn to lie.
Learn to deceive.
Learn to fight.
Learn to kill.
Learn to destroy.
Tear them, limb from limb, until there's nothing left.
Do away with them, like they did with you.
Come back like a ghost and haunt them, until they haunt themselves.
Play mind games, right back at them.
Fight back. Play with their emotions.
Find their weak spot, and stab it, with your mental katana, forged of bone.
Bring them down.
Overthrown their government, and establish your own.
Anything you can do is worth doing. Otherwise not done, the potential has been wasted.
If you can lie, lie.
If you can decieve, decieve.
If you can fight, fight.
If you can kill, kill.
If you can destroy, destroy.
Let loose your wrath, and force them to rue their mistakes, and while they scream 'WHY ME,"
scream back "It is not fate, nor misfortune, but the very consequense of your actions and desires. You have done this to yourself. Do not doubt it, but accept it as truth, for what you have done is unforgiveable."
And while they tremble at your words, break down their mind.
Burn their very realization of the universe into dust.
They thought they had it all.
They thought they were taking it all from you,
but they were really giving it to you,
and taking it away from themselves.
They were giving you their anger and rage.
Now, use that anger and fight back.
Use that rage and destroy them.
Lie to destroy social stature.
Deceive to destroy mental ability.
Fight to weaken them.
Kill to shorten their numbers.
Destroy to end them from existence.
Do what ever is found necessary to rid them from existense inside YOUR universe.
It all belongs to you, now.
They were giving it to you all along.
...and a small piece from a short story I was writing.
I sprint ahead, going full speed. As fast I can. Charge. Go faster. And jump! I fly off the edge of the cliff, and soar. I soar, and soar. It seems forever. But then my head hurts...
Gah! Go away!
"Hey! You awake?"
Leave me alone!
"Come on, man! Get up!"
"What?" I go, irritated. "I was asleep."
"Class is over."
"Oh. Thanks" i mumble, as I reach for my backpack and stand.
I walk out of the class in a daze. It's bright out. I wish I had my sun glasses. My backpack isn't even on by the time I'm out the door. I walk fast, and it's because that I have to walk from classes in the main building, to the last portable.
When I get down the ramp, I like to watch all the people stand in their little cliques and talk away between classes. It makes me laugh inside. I don't know why. I guess it's because I'd call them the 'cool kids' and yet, they can hardly do algebra. The way they stand there, all proud and stuff, while in my mind, I think they're all just insignificant specs in the universe. But then again, we all are. So you might as well feel proud of being the spec that you are.
I'm going to P.E. now. (That's Physical Education, in case you didn't know.) I go to my locker in the locker room, but I don't know why. My lock is missing, so I keep my clothes in my backpack. I get dressed and head out to the track to wait for the coach and the rest of the kids. All the kids get out here before coach does because if we're not all sitting down by the time he gets here, we have to run an extra lap, and nobody but me wants to do that. So, I sit down anyway, just to avoid trouble. Then we run our lap, head out to the field, play whatever game, and go back into the locker rooms to get dressed back into our regular clothes.
I think I'm pretty weird. During P.E. like when we're in the gym playing basketball, or out in the field playing football or something, I'll be all nice and social. But right when the game ends, I drop everything, avoid everyone, and do my own thing away from them. I guess it's because when we're playing the game, we do it on the social standards of athleticism, but when we're done playing, I return to the social standards of intelligence, so my high regards for them diminish into little. ...And when I do that. That whole 'I'll go into my own little world and explain things in a complicated way,' thing. Gah. I annoy myself too much.
I go to my next class. I sit in class, bored, and occasionally I start to think. Like really, really think. About life. I start to question so many things, and then I think about the good things in my life. And then the bad. And then the weird. And then the normal. I think about how lightning is made. How butterflies fly. How water expands as it freezes. How the people always mock me.
I think about a lot of things. I just want to stop thinking now, so I go to sleep.
I'm back ontop of the cliff. I see the edge. I sprint ahead, going full speed. As fast I can. Charge. Go faster. And jump! No. I soar, and soar, and soar. No, I said! I fly as fast and long as I can. Stop it. Not again! The sky turns dark red. I have a knife in my right hand, and I'm on the ground now. Someone's behind me, and I turn around. It's my dad. He falls back, and sinks into his shadow, and then it fades.
I keep a small note book in my back pocket. I use it to take notes on the way people act around me. Like if someone's really nice to me, I'll write it down, and if someone does something to upset me or make me mad, I'll write it down. I like to do that. It helps me control my emotions.
I write it down with the day in the top left corner of the page, and then I write the details on the lines below.