PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

When in doubt, take a knife

Slice it across the vein along the wrist

Don't go soft, make it count

Make that shit bleed

Watch as it pours over the skin

Do you feel it?

Do you feel any different?

Probably not!

Feeling that coldness along your cheeks

That's still not enough

The tiled floor is within reach

Do you feel it?

Do you feel different?

Probably not!

The knife is still within your hand 

Slide it along both your thighs 

Make it bleed

Come on now

Don't be a baby

You want it to go away

You know how to do it

Not once, not twice, three times is nice

You're beginning to feel it now

All that pain is starting to ease

The wall is crumbling

The salt pouring along your lips

Yes, let it all out

If this isn't enough and you've had enough

Let the cold water cover the skin

Relax and lay back

Let it all out

Take your last breath cause it's time

Now you are going cold

Do you feel any better?

I'm sure you do

No more pain

No more complaints and disappointments

No more worries 

Now just hope you end up where you want to go

I can do things your past can’t.

the good, the bad, the in between

not that you are

a game or a prize

but just that I want everything and

I’m only human when I see tears

I just want to put you in a corner

someone told me once

exhaustion is being stuck in an emotion

I feel it

when I get

hot and angry

turn into

some sort of spikes

shoot them at the moon

I am

some sort of swelling you can’t undo

I will never catch up to the memories

I wake to loneliness so sure of itself

I turn into fists

that never land anywhere

go to bed

so tired again

that I can’t sleep

I am waiting for a light to turn on that does not have a switch

I have crescents worn into my palms

because I like to tell myself I am better than a blade

but I am not quite better than this

all the milestones feel like boulders

I have been

stacking up on the top of this hill

fuck I am so fucking sick of running

hoping they will not catch me

so

yes it is not quite that I am

angry

or longing

or murderous

or jealous

or just fucking tearing myself apart

it is not quite that I love you

that I’m human

that so were you

it is not quite that I’m ready

for the silence to catch up to me

for all these ghosts to go

it is not quite that I am

afraid you will leave me

it is that I am

afraid you will want to and won’t

afraid I am every part of the building blocks you have been searching for

but they have been assembled all wrong

afraid I am half of every column in this house of gods

and still you will have nothing to stand on

afraid I will climb and climb and never make it

afraid you have invited me in

and I pulled the door off its hinges on the way in

afraid I will never stop seeing his face through your memory

or stop falling asleep to all the one liners that live in my head

afraid I will love you with two hands

one I was born with and

one I have carefully created through all these comparisons

afraid I will never stop trying to build myself into a hybrid

something you could want in those lives you used to dream of

someone you could stay with when the world walks backwards

and if I finally succeed

afraid I will leave me stranded on the floor when I am gone

Can’t there be a holiday for the lonely people?

People walking around in a daze

Makeup running down their cheeks

Reflecting on the one who slipped through their needy fingers

Or cursing their solitude

Wishing no one would have to share their quiet worthlessness

No

Instead we pile teddy bears onto shelves like shitty food onto cafeteria trays

We cram chocolate into heart shaped boxes

Packed tightly, claustrophobic

Like the air tight monogamy of a committed relationship

We buy women expensive lingerie

Only to tear it off the minute it’s in front of us

We buy overpriced cards so Hallmark

Can tell our partner how we really feel

And we do it all in the name of love,

Or at least whatever we’re calling the social contract conjoining two people

Who enjoy talking to each other almost as much as fucking

I want a national regrets day

Just some sort of terrible liquor on clearance

And a note pad where everyone can write down their mistakes

Could I finally make my friends jealous as they awe at my expansive scroll?

And what about slutty people?

Where is their holiday? (If we’re not counting Halloween)

Divorced, widowed?

I think they deserve a holiday as well.

Some people have good reason to avoid relationships

Perhaps they had the romance of the century

Until an untimely death or illness

Maybe he turned out to be a cheater

Maybe she turned out to be a he

But alas,

I get on with my point,

Valentine’s Day isn’t the celebration of real love

It’s the annual cornballathon ode to our obsessed, idealistic vision of it

Love is powerful and incredible

But it’s also brutal and gross

It has sharp elbows not found on a cuddly teddy bear

And when you celebrate love

You’re also celebrating jealousy, revenge and despair

It may be too darn starry- eyed for one to suggest we stop pretending love is anything you’d be able buy in a store

But my non- conformist, abominably angst ridden heart is unrelenting in its pursuit

Start enjoying what we really are

Not what the commercials say we should be

I silently curse your name thousand times
I can't close my eyes without seeing you with her
Curse you for making me doubt my myself ...
Curse you for wanting her!
I'm angry
I'm mad
I'm sad
I'm disappointed
I'm cursing you
I can't close my eyes without seeing you with her
She's everything I wasn't ...
But I gave you everything ... Without asking for anything
And maybe that's what you wanted ...
I curse you thousand times
And still I can't close my eyes

Stained from life, she ponders words,She can't exist without them.

Chasing memories in her mind,

The ones she lived without him.

Seeking refuge in tainted thoughts,

Never realizing wanted dreams,

Tossing and turning, restless sleep,

Awakened again by pictured screams.

Time doesn't seem to heal all wounds,

It just predicates the cost..

Always tortured in my own mind...

I remain... "A little Girl Lost"

I AM THE AUTHOR OF STUPID POEMS THAT HAVE NO REAL MEANING

I AM THE STEPPER OF STAIRS THAT CLIMB TO THE HEAVENS

TO FIND THAT HEAVEN IS NOT THERE

I AM NOT THE VICTIM BUT THE ONE WHO SEES ALL

WHO KNOWS HIS OWN DEMISE

I AM THE MAN WHO HAS WATCHED HIS LOVES GO TO OTHERS

HAS STARED AT TROPHIES WITH JEALOUS EYES

THE WAY THEY SHINED AND WERE HELD ABOVE ME

THE CHAMPIONS THAT HELD THEM GLEAMING

LIKE THE IRON SPADES SEWN ON LEATHER JACKETS

THAT THE PERSIANS WORE TO WAR

INHERENTLY SMALLER THAN ANYONE

INHERENTLY MORE TORTURED

IM THE ONE WHO KNOWS EVERYTHING ABOUT NOTHING

I AM THE ONE WHO KNOWS MY OWN FATE

WANTS TO STOP IT

I KNOW IT'S HARD TO UNDERSTAND

I KNOW THAT MISSING SOMEONE IS DIFFICULT

BUT THE WORLD WILL ALWAYS SPIN AS LONG AS THERE IS THE BEAUTY WITHIN YOUR HEART INHABITING IT

I AM JUST THE AUTHOR OF STUPID POEMS WITH NO REAL MEANING

MISSING ME IS LIKE MISSING AN OLD JUNKY CAR

DONT BE TOO SENTINMENTAL

YOU CAN FIND COMFORT IN MY VERSES

DONT LOOK AT OLD PHOTOGRAPHS

LOOK AT THE SUN AND KNOW IT SHINES FOR YOU

I'LL BE BEHIND THE MOON SHINING FOR YOU TOO

Maybe it’s me

Always overly acquainted with the all knowing eyes

And the rubbernecking of studying stares

The steady flow of innuendo

Perplexing

The arrows of displeasure aimed in my direction

All for having lowered my anchor

Rejoicing in where I’ve landed

Maybe not the preferred destination

But content with the richly cultivated grains of my being

Fertilized in fortitude from the favor I’ve been granted

And the divine soils in which my feet have firmly been planted

Maybe it’s me

Because my world is now serene

No longer entertaining the misunderstanding of me

And those who are still burdened

When I feel no obligation to explain the essence of my theme

Or the reasons for my chosen path

Those of which have caused my soul to scream

Far too often in the past

Maybe it’s me

Because these beads of perspiration are not from disregard

But they are the manifestation

Of the tenacity in my concentration

When focused on me

I choose to stay missing

Though easily seen

My words remain reserved

Because gossip breeds the judgment of others

And that is not my bridge to cross

Nor will it be my cross to bear

Because I choose conversation that promotes elevation

And for that reason my words I do not spare

What you can’t own gives you unrest

And I wouldn’t dare to leave you grieving

So excuse me for inhaling the same air that you’ve been breathing

And it’s okay

Don’t bother getting up

Because I was just leaving

Copyright © 2014 by Daryl R. Gaines. All rights reserved

Feeling alive,

sugar and cyanide,

bursting into flames,

thoughts twinkle

and teeter on the edge,

crashing all the walls down,

collages formed,

pictures of us catch

fire,

faults start to form,

appears like cracks in mirrors,

screams scorch anything

you every said,

the I love you's,

the I will be there,

was lies,

not taking it I

try to stop the tapes,

try to stop

the memories,

pressing stop

I take out the film,

wanting the end

I cuddle up to you,

looking into your black eyes,

I take out a match,

igniting the spark I light your body on fire,

not even feeling I walk away without

looking back,

no more of the I love you again,

grow up,

when a heart

break it never breaks even,

never do a women wrong,

don't play with fire if you can't

handle the bright fire