Old Poems Project

Alright, I don’t think I’m going to post them all. So this will be the last one, especially since it was much later than the rest. Thanks for all the support, can’t believe these old guys are getting so much love!

Storms (January 2013)

Burning words from deep within,

can’t keep the flames trapped inside.

Fire bursts out of my fingertips

as new words scorch the blank page.

The temperature starts to shift,

a storm of my emotions comes rolling in.

My hands turn to ice

as time freezes.

Memories start flooding in,

images flash like lightening

and sorrow comes pouring down.

My feelings betray me as they slide down my face.

I remember everything that’s happened

anger thunders through me,

cracking my ice cold shell

shards of my former wall go swirling around me

in dizzying circles

Pieces of the past cut through me like a knife.

The wind howls and moans and

screams my name.

I close my eyes and darkness consumes me

it is the end

if only the end had come sooner

Old Poems Project

It just keeps going, sorry and not sorry everyone there’s still more coming:

Broken (October 2010)

Broken,

shattered to pieces

Broken,

rejected by everyone

Broken,

denied of everything

Broken,

hurting on the inside

Broken,

bent out of shape

Broken,

reliving nightmares

Broken,

screaming at the top of my lungs

Broken,

crying out to God

Broken,

praying that someone will listen

Broken,

there’s no fixing me.

Old Poems Project

This one is now one of my favorites but also at the same time I realize what a cry for help it was.

Can You? (October 2010)

I’m screaming.  I’m crying out.

Can you hear me?

 

I’m not making a sound,though.

I’m silently screaming,

crying out with every word that I say,

but you can’t

tell.

 

Perhaps my silence is louder than my screaming.

 

I’m losing touch with

everyone.

I’m letting go.

 

Can you see me?

 

I’m getting dizzy

as the world starts

spinning around me,

life would go on with

out me.

 

Perhaps my silence is louder than my actions.

I’m pushing everyone

away, I don’t

want them around

when I snap.

 

Can you understand me?

 

I’m losing connections with

my emotions.

I’m not able to remember

how to express my feelings.

 

So I yell.

I yell at myself.

I take out everything

inside of me,

on myself.

 

Perhaps my silence will help people realize my problems.

 

Can you listen to me?

 

I’m giving up.

I’m losing control.

 

Perhaps my silence will be louder if I’m dead.

 

Can you help me?

Old Poems Project

Here I Am (October 2010)

 

Hurt, bent and broken.

Here I am,

Back to square one.

Here I am,

Debating if life is even worth living.

Here I am,

Wondering if anyone would even miss me.

Here I am,

Heartbroken.

Here I am,

Hopes are being crushed.

Here I am,

Holding on by a thread.

Here I am,

Trying to fit in somehow.

Here I am,

Asking what’s wrong with me.

Here I am,

Bashed and Bruised.

Here I am,

Completely torn apart.

Here I am,

All alone.

Here I am,

At loss for words.

Here I am,

Trying to find someone who will listen.

Here I am,

Smashed into pieces.

Here I am,

Losing all hope.

Here I am,

Falling over the edge.

Old Poems Project

September 19, 2010 · 

Too Tired

Too tired, too tired to think, to move, to breath.

Too tired to realize life is flying by.

 

Exhausted, both mentally and physically.

 

Exhausted, barely making it one day to the next.

 

Everyday falling more and more behind,

running, trying to catch up.

too tired to do that.

 

Slowly, I realize I’m holding onto life with a thread.

Trying to stay connected.

 

Too tired, fingers slipping, releasing their grip.

 

Exhausted, too tired, to keep up.

How long now?

I’m not sure what I’m trying to accomplish here or what point I’m trying to prove? Maybe its to validate to myself that I have struggled with this for as long as I have, I really don’t know at this point. Anyways, today I’ll be putting in poems I wrote in 2010/2011 right around my first suicide attempt.

 

Is the end near?

October 13, 2011 at 10:57 PM

You’re here again. You’re at that point of giving up.

You’re getting dizzy as the world spins around you.

You see that blade.

It’s calling your name. Can you hear it?

“Come to me, you stupid bitch.”

All that emotion you’ve been holding in begins to leak out.

You take one step forward, one step closer to that blade

it’s screaming at you. Listen.

“You know you can’t live with out me… come here, pick me up.”

A couple steps closer.

All you can think about is all the hurt that you’re holding inside.

The blade shines in the light. It’s speaking to you again. It sounds louder.

“That’s right, almost here, come to me, just a bit closer.”

You move forward. Your heart is pounding.

You can’t think straight.

The blade is in reaching distance, you pick it up.

It’s voice interrupts your thoughts.

Listen closely. “That’s right, hold me in your hand, doesn’t it feel right?”

So close, you press the blade against your wrist.

You push down and drag it across your skin.

Bright drops of red begin to form.

You cry as you realize, that you did it again.

The blood flows more freely as you do it again, and again and again.

The tears flow more freely now.

Drop, Drop, Drop.

Your tears mix in with your blood.

It makes a runny red substance.

The red drops fall to the ground,

Drip, Drop, Drip, Drop.

Slowly you let yourself go.

You lose it. You fall to the ground.

The blade clatters against the tile, splatters more of your blood.

You lay there, in your blood, in your tears.

Is the end near?