Psychology

'The Universe has as many different centers as there are living beings in it.'

—Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn

Caged

 

Did you ever feel

Like you were

Trapped

In a single consciousness

And if you could just

Get

   Out

Of

Yourself

 

   Everything

 

Would be

 

In

 

 Your

 

Grasp

 

         ?

 

 

Don’t Thank Me

 

Your gratitude

  Does not reach me.

 

Only show me

  How happy you are

  With what

  I have given you.

 

 

Nuclear Waste

 

i am digging little holes
here and there
and everywhere,
dumping emotions inside
and covering them up.

What do I do with all of this?

 

 

Overflow

 

Words

Spill onto

A page

To fill the time

   To simulate

   A facsimile

   Of a soul

To loosen

The bonds

On the straining

Beast

Inside.

 

Let him walk.

Good boy.

Here’s a little poem.

You’ll behave now, won’t you?

 

 

      So easily placated.

 

You may have

All the answers

  But you will never find

  Any comfort in them.

 

  

Unconstrained

 

I have angels guarding my demons

And demons guarding my angels.

 

I am at my best

When the guards are asleep.

 

 

I am Fragile

 

An egg shell

Suspended

In a titanium frame

Is still

An egg shell.

 

 

Speciality

 

I am equipped

To understand

Suffering.

 

My friends are the afflicted.

 

I present a lie

To the World

To see

Who will look

Beyond the easy words

And construct

What lies beneath

   Yet at the

   Same time

   Understand

   That the lie

   Is as much a part of me

   As the truth.

On the Corner 

 

I was born

To feel sorrow

In the place of others

And to share

In the sorrow

Of others.

 

Everyone feels better

And they move on.

 

But I’m still here.

 

 

Tremble

 

It’s easy to be kind

When you don’t

Care

At

All.

 

    It costs you nothing.

 

 

untethered rAge

 

i just really
fucking hate you.
it's like being shackled
to a rancid sack of failure
and humiliation.
sometimes I jurt want to gnaw off my legaat the ankle
only to be rid of it.

     

 

Know Thyself

I am an open wound:
Sensitive

To every movement of the air,
  Too conscious of myself.

I look for ways to forget
  What I am
So I can just live
Like everyone else

But it only takes a breeze
To bring back the sting
  And a touch
To restart the flow.

 

That afternoon
I strangled my own soul
And buried it
In a shallow grave
In the yard.

Living with it
Had been killing me.

Ten years
Idle and free:

Nothing could touch me
And I could touch nothing
In return.

 

Perfect isolation

In a world

Safe from

Feeling.

Last night

When I came home
The grave lay open
And my soul

Sat on my bed,
Facing me.

Small
Stunted limbs,

A bloated head,
Translucent flesh
And wide,
Staring
Eyes.

It was me
Trying to grow back
Into what I once had been.

I sat on the bed

And we sat together
In silence.

When I slept,
It hovered over me.

When I woke,

It was still there.

Every night

When I come home
It is there,

On the bed,
Waiting.

Some nights
It seems
A little bigger.

Some nights
It seems
A little smaller.

I am afraid
Of what it will do
If I let it grow

Too strong.

It may try to kill me again.

But I have been
So lonely
Without it.

Sometimes
I miss
The big
Shining thing

I had
Inside

Of me.

But she was
Just
Too strong

For me.

This little one
Is all I can handle.

Maybe he'll be nice to me.

 

Or maybe

I should kill him now

And be free

And soulless

And invincible

All over again.

 

It’s so much easier.

 

But in the dark,

Everything

Tastes

Like

Sand.

 

False Kindness

 

I help others

Only to forget

How much

I hate

Myself.

 

Every act

Is the same.

 

There is no generosity in me.

 

 

The Machine

 

Damaged beyond repair

I am

Damaged beyond repair

 

Tomorrow

All the love in the world

Would not fill a thimble

Even if I were drowned in it

Today.

 

  Everything just passes straight through.