A Journey Into My Mind

[Prime]

Updated my blog with the recent poems that I chose to put onto it:

journeyintomymind | Just another WordPress.com site

 

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Quit

Time to make this decision once again,
and force it to be the last time.
My lungs are clouded with smoke,
in the color of black and dust,
causing me to suffer.

I shouldn't force myself to suffer,
instead I need to find an alternative,
something less harmful.

The smoke in my lungs needs to clear,
the taste of cigarettes on my lips needs to end,
the sensation of blowing smoke,
it's something i've grown used to,
but it's something that needs to be ended.

Otherwise I will continue to knock off years of my future.
​

 

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Why The **** Do I Feel This Way?

This feeling I have keeps coming back,
it's as if it only returns when I try to do the right thing.
When I try to fix something that is broken,
when I try to help where my help is needed,
some sort of unstoppable force decides to kick my ass.

It breaks me down,
throws me away,
makes me feel less than I am,
makes me feel alone, hurt, invisible.

It's nothing to do with my mind,
my mind shuts down when it's in fear,
my body takes a beating for all the wrong reasons,
even when nothing went wrong to begin with.

So I ask,
why the **** do I feel this way?
Why have my good deeds nearly been the death of me,
why can't I do the right thing the right way.
It's like, some force won't allow it.

But it doesn't stop me.
​

 

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I'm sorry

I'm sorry for being a good person,
and helping you out when you least expect it.
I'm sorry for keeping you warm,
when the winter cold hits.
I'm sorry for always telling you how much I care,
only for you to spit in my face.
I'm sorry for the days in middle school,
when I told you how pretty you are.
I'm sorry for the days in high school,
when I told you that anybody is lucky to be with you.

I'm sorry for loving you.
And still loving you.
​

 

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Itching

Never can I seem to ask myself the right questions,
make the right decisions, or even follow the right advice.

I seem to be falling deeper into a hole that I made for myself,
falling somewhere i've been many times before,
only to find comfort in my self inflicted sorrow.

The tears I left behind still remain in the puddle they once formed,
showing me they have never faded,
not even through the years.

Reminds me of the scars that have never healed,
the scars that may never heal.​

 

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Turn Off

Calm, throughout the day, nothing but nothing,
once the evening hits, it's an instant chaos.
My mind makes me believe that everything I have that is good,
will suddenly burn to a crisp, nothing left.

I just need the strength to tell my mind to hush,
keep it from speaking more than it should,
seize it from being able to convince me of things that aren't true,
because at this point, i'm believing everything it says.

If I am alone because of what my mind tells me,
than I now wonder how I haven't gone completely crazy.

​

 

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To Be Alone, Without Being Alone

I take a step outside,
in the cold, with the smoke clouding my eyes, clouding my mind,
there is nobody there, nobody standing there,
yet there is a presence.
There's a voice, I hear it, and it protects me.

Holding me close, as I hold them close,
it's as if they are there, even when they're not.

The feeling of being alone,
it fades as I see them standing there.
I feel the emotion, I feel the warmth, I feel the pain,
without them being there.
It's the weirdest thing,
to be alone, but to never actually feel alone.