My brain is missing pieces.
They fell along the way.
My hand sometimes freezes.
And it won’t obey.
Lost and dreaming.
Tear drops, glimmering,
Out of my veins they’re streaming
Maybe I’m not worth redeeming
Stop trying, there’s no meaning
Success is just a feeling
Tell me this and tell me true,
Have I ever done good to you?
Have I ever made one promise,
Of which I made good and held to?
I have remorse and many regrets
I don’t give a damn about my lost bets
And I don’t care for my old debts
Or all those stupid threats
Of all the things I freaking miss
In this empty, small abyss
I miss your stupid lips,
I miss your gentle kiss
I wanna write more about happiness and bliss,
I wanna recall and reminisce,
But screw writing love poems,
I really fucking suck at this.
Back on track, I’ll turn that page
So embarrassing, at my age.
Let’s write of anger,
Of existential rage
God just locked me in this cage,
Threw the keys in hell, then left the stage
I suck at this, there’s no way to gauge
If I’m winning this war, inside me I wage
Let me write of strife and sickness,
Let me write of mental illness,
I’m quite familiar with that topic,
I’m a protagonist in that comic.
I feel like a marionette at circus.
Tiny hooks underneath my dermis.
I keep dancing to these tunes.
I keep writing stupid poems.
Set the stage and strobe that light.
God has come to watch tonight.
Dance little doll, and do it right.
Keep in step, and don’t show fright.
“How can I dance?” Asked the little doll.
“I spent my life, behind that wall,
My whole life, I’ve been on hooks, I’m tiny, and small!
You want me to dance, before I learn to crawl?”
The hooks hug tighter, and the little thing whimpers
Her fragile mind just breaks and splinters
God is watching, and so she simpers
She looks behind her, at her little sisters
Waiting in line, with their own blisters
“Dance little toy, and make it good.
Lest I smite you, where you’re stood.”
“Dance little toy. Do it on your own.
Lest I grind your flesh and bone.”
There you have it, a piece of my mind
A rambling brain that rhymes sometimes
I hope you’re happy, oh dear therapist
I’m writing it out, as per your request
If people think I’m crazy, I won’t protest
I’m fucking bored of this mental tryst
I wanna stop thinking words that rhyme
I wanna be normal, just this one time
I want this mania to fucking stop
I want old habits to die out and drop
Why do I commit this literary crime?
Why do I ramble words that barely rhyme?
They’re never gonna be read or sung
It’s not even my mother tongue.
#poetry, more #ramblings of an #ill_mind