Sleep. Weep. Repeat.

It’s like a birth but it is in reverse never gets better, always gets worse

5 notes

Another stupid poem that could be better if I had any patience and not the urge to spit out everything at once to avoid killing myself:
Every birthday card
just felt like
a get well soon card.

"Sorry she’s not around again this year.
Love mom.”
“we’ll ignore the hole in the wall till you’re ready to fix it.
Love dad”
“I didn’t seal the envelope too much so you don’t have to rip open more skin to read it.
Love Cam”
“Just don’t keep this up, don’t smoke another thirty-two cigarettes tomorrow, don’t drink six beers, don’t swallow three mouthfuls of whiskey.
Love Baba”

and I can’t help it
that I can’t hurt myself
more than you hurt me
and I don’t know how to give up.

So I spent an hour
smashing my fist into the punching bag
to the rhythm of me saying
“Not. Until. I. Feel. Better.
Not. Until. I. Feel. Better.
Not. Until. I. Fucking. Feel. Better.
NOT. UNTIL. I. FUCKING. FEEL. BETTER.”

and I don’t feel tired
and I’m worried
like I always worry
before going to bed now
that I’ll feel it in the morning.

That i’ll feel my knuckles swollen twice as big
that the popped blood vessels in my fist bruise
and the scabs will try to comfort the wounds
and I’ll still wake up
without you
with all this fucking damage
I keep making
cause it’s not enough
and it never will be.

Filed under poems poetry prose writing fuck fuck fuck fuck

0 notes

Anonymous asked: but what object caused the mark, how was it done

Set a cup on my chest

carved my way around it

again and again

and again

and again

till it was bloody enough to make a circle.

Fun times.

2 notes

Anonymous asked: whats the red mark on your chest from

Being left alone again.

3 notes

satansxbae asked: You. Are. So. Fucking. Attractive.

Fuck me till I believe you.

12 notes

52 Plays
Alone Down There
Modest Mouse

How do, how do you do?
My name is you
Flies, they all gather around me and you too
You can’t see anything well
You ask me what size it is, not what I sell
The flies, they all gather around me and you too
I don’t want you to be alone down there
To be alone down there, to be alone
The Devil’s apprentice he gave me some credit
He fed me a line and I’ll probably regret it
I don’t want you to be alone down there
To be alone down there, to be alone

I don’t want you to be alone down there
To be alone down there, to be alone

Filed under music Modest Mouse Alone Down There

3 notes

Friend came by
said he was sent over to fix the wall
told em you’ll get it fixed when you’re ready
he understood.

He said plaster hurts more
you told him it only hurts if you fail.
He laughed.
Said one birthday he did seventeen shots of Jack Daniels
was fighting with his girlfriend
and tried to punch out the glass of his old Camaro.

And you laughed for a second
and moved away from it.

12 notes

Longing
isn’t motivation
to fix
what’s broken
or find
what’s lost.

You learned this today
and everything hurt
all over again
in the old familiar
dull ache
of a numb
motionless
month,
and everything
shattered
into smaller
and smaller
pieces.

This has to be
what it feels like
to have cancer

that never disappears completely
and keeps coming back
in nauseous waves
and crippling misery

and you know you’ll never heal
and you know it’ll never go away
you’ll just die
and then it’ll be gone.

You feel it
in your chest
and in your stomach
and in the back of your head
and now it’s your bones

and it’s always getting harder to breathe
and you remember your grandpa’s last breath
and how it stayed in the air
hung over everyone who loved him
and said goodbye.

and you’re alone
feeling short of breath
worried
smaller and smaller
one less person to love
one more piece missing.

Filed under Fuuhhhhhhuuuucccckkkkkk poems poetry prose writing why fuck fuck fuck fuck time to drink myself to sleep

9 notes

x.
I didn’t want another beer
but depression isn’t about getting what you want.

So I lifted my head
and tried to swallow as much
as a killer whale

cause my tongue feels two tons
before I try to lift it
and say your name

and my heart
feels as big
as my car
and just as
anxious
when things
start to speed up.

I kept trying to swallow
my clenched teeth
and forgive the wounds
I put on all the worst parts of myself

but like all late night epiphanies
sleep came before resolve
and sleep took a little more out of me
again

and I woke up
with more bottle caps
laying around
than spare change

and I felt fucking spent
on life
at twenty-three
and wondered
what I could salvage.

Filed under poems poetry prose writing sad stuff sads sads sads

140,236 notes

If you repeat something over and over again it loses its meaning; You watch the sunset too often it just becomes 6 pm, you make the same mistake over and over you stop calling it a mistake. If you just wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up wake up one day you’ll forget why
Phil Kaye from Repetition (via kiddings)

(Source: myheartgoesbumbumbum, via lonelystiles)