Late Night & Waking

I hate waking after a night out. The light hitting my eyes is filled with self-loathing and defeat, a thousand pains and what-ifs and whys. I hate waking to find my bed empty because you’re not there after dreams where we’re talking. We reminisce.

I hate waking with the wish that I hadn’t left the house, ruined myself with alcohol and guilt. But why do I feel guilty when you’re the one who did it? This guilt that I feel when every guy hits on me or people try to get me to let some nice fella buy me a drink or take me home. This horrible, revolting guilt… like I’m being unfaithful to you. And I never was.

And when I wake I lie there, sometimes for hours, stare into the gloom of my half-darkened room with the blind rolled down to hide me. Because I feel hate. And all of it for me. Why do I hate me when you’re the one who did it? I question every motive. every sigh. Every word. Every look…

And the memory of the looks are the worst…

I rebuild your eyes in my mind and feel certain that I can twist your expression into something of lies and deceit. Feel certain that then I will feel whole, but no. Still I see the wide open expanse of everything. The bright blue. Your pupils small and tight as you stare at me. The trim of your lashes. The stupid way your lips are parted and the half-tangle half-curl of your ridiculous hair. And I hate you. I hate you for every fibre of my being that’s screaming for why, for every part of me that wishes this wasn’t, and for every part of me that wants to ruin you the way you ruined me.

And then I sink deeper, pull the duvet over my head and bleed my secret heart out onto the sheets with every aching breath. You don’t know what you’ve done. You don’t know how you’ve hurt me. I drink to forget but nothing is forgotten. I smile and I nod at every joke of every bloke who dares to tell it, dares to look at me and think that maybe… maybe tonight is their lucky night…

But I know it won’t be. Because it never is.

I seek out the people I know like me more than like and I talk to them, because I want that. I want to be liked more than liked but nothing more, and it crushes me that I can’t feel anything. There is a hole. An unfixable hole. And every emotion swirls and washes away ’til nothing is left but guilt clinging to the sides like a lime scale too thick to remove.

This guilt that is all you. And to you…

To you I am nothing but a cheap thrill you once had.

Underside

Hungry but can’t eat
Tired but can’t sleep
Burning up and throwing out
Freezing up and falling down.
Sickness on sickness is still
Loading up and taking your fill.
Trust thrown open
Steadied and broken.
Hurting like this
Because of a kiss
You shouldn’t have give
Or ever let live
When nothing you felt was real
And is everything I feel.
Hurting so much.
Lost. Out of touch.
Should have seen this coming,
Should have kept running.
Asked you if you meant it.
You assured me that you spent it
With every ounce of yes
And not a second guess.
So what happens now, my liar, my cheat,
When suddenly our hearts cannot meet?

Help me here. Say something new.
Make it good. Stop all of this blue.

I don’t understand this sudden change
This turn of a circular range.
This back step & change of heart
This messy, muddled, bloodied art.

Sick

Sick to my stomach & raw inside
Sick of these silly games & trying to hide.

Dear Stranger

Dear Stranger I thought I knew
Hello is the first thing I’d say to you.
Hide me in pictures
Of moments like tinctures

We Are The Utter Lost…

We are the hopeless hearts –
The tainted ones,
The broken and the false starts.
We are the walking dead
The purposeless
The ones from whom love has fled.
We are the burning souls
The haunted ones
Those who step on heated coals.
We are the troubled youth
The already old
Those who burn forsooth.
We are the forsaken fools
The lost at sea
The faded jewels.

We are those who we are not
And those who we could be
And those who’re forgot.

We wish for what we could have had
And put aside what makes us glad.
We give far more than we receive
That only leaves for us to grieve.

We pass away our helpless love
And seek no virtue from above.
Our lips will be forever cold
From those to whom our hearts are sold.

We give our hands, our hearts, our minds,
To those disaffected kinds.
We struggle with our true desires
Following on to others’ fires.
Living out another life
That inward only gives us strife.

We are the hopeless hearts.
We are the broken starts.
We are the walking dead
Those from whom love has fled.
We are the burning souls
Those who step on heated coals.
We are the troubled youth
Those who burn forsooth.
We are the forsaken fools
The faded jewels…

We are the utter lost…

Sunset Hearts

You painted my soul for the world to see
A peaceful rook alone upon a tree…
The purple that’s brewing shows no trouble yet
But the solitary heart trapped in a sunset
Watched on by a man with unknown intentions,
Cautious to fan his whispered intensions.

Did I?

Did I tell you that I love you?
Did I whisper it so sweet and low?
If only I could take it back;
These things you ought to know. 
Did I murmur it with dry lips
From breathing so hard and fast,
When I wondered if I should tell you
And if this was going to last?
Did you know how much I meant it?
Did you think that I would fall?
Did you think that I would turn around
And say there was nothing there at all?
Did you know that I am quiet
And that I fear I feel too much
So I try hard not to say it
Though it’s there in every touch?
Do you understand I wrote this
And know you’ll never read
Though every word I’m writing here
Is no longer but a seed?
Do you know that I worry
You’ll get caught up in the snow?
That you’ll have some awful accident
And I will never know?
Do you remember that I dreamt 
That you were really ill
And you asked me if I cried
Or if I’d laid there still?
I told you that I hadn’t.
I turned away instead
Hopeful you wouldn’t see my face
Or my underlying dread.
You don’t know what you mean to me.
You never understood.
I’m not a girl who loves on looks.
I never really could.
You thought I was above you,
Something you couldn’t attain.
But the truth is we’re too alike
And I only thought the same.
Not good enough. Not prettier.
Not brimming with any charm.
I know I’m weird, misunderstood,
Unsettlingly calm.
I just hoped you felt it too
And that it wasn’t some rebound phase. 
I loved all the bones of you
And have done all these days.

Poetry. Or lyrics. I’m not sure. Not even sure how it happened.

Sometimes I’d like to go where no one knows me.
Sometimes my dreams produce someone who holds me.
And when his face dips low I know he’ll kiss me there
And when I hear the rain I hope he’ll miss me. Dare
I hope he’ll miss me,
Think he’ll kiss me.
Unhopeful hopeful falling down.
And when I think it I’ll hit the ground.
Unhopeful hopeful falling down
Your loving frown.
Can’t be more than this
To fill my heart up
With your love wrenched kiss.
Unhopeful hopeful a little trip.
Unhopeful hopeful it’s just a blip.
But sealing all the pain away
I shake your voice again today.
Broken rhythms – a pretty blue.
Broken guitarists; melody too.
I’ll tear the stage up – a bloody mess.
The violent vocals I can’t impress
Make your ears weep a crimson hue
With broken rhythms – a pretty blue.
Unhopeful hopeful a tiny scar.
Unhopeful hopeful – there we are.
Beat the bassist and snap the chords.
Choking solos, silence keyboards.
I’ll hold the amp down and strain the set
With unspoken flaring in every fret.
And words. And words.
And words of rage.
And words. And words.
They blank the page.
Unhopeful hopeful a little numb.
Unhopeful hopeful so very dumb.
It’s getting late now; the spotlight’s strum.
So bleed the mic jacks and smash the drum.
We’ll kill the sound now…
Sound now…
Now…

There’s A Jumble In My Head

There’s a jumble in my head.
This jumble is a mumble,
Is a murmuring of you. 
It’s a scary conversation
Of the things we left unsaid,
The wound tight complication
Of a hope that now is dead.
You pushed and pulled.
You broke the rules.
My heart you fooled
With words as tools. 
And now they roll from my tongue
Of the memories you’ll leave unsung. 
I wonder if you think of me…
That whole you took a drink of me
And now a hole is all you’ll see
Where lovers lips lied between their sips
And groaning felt for shadowed hips
With blurring words and promises
Of the different hidden provinces
Of that vulnerable beating flesh.
Each word and each caress,
To me, they were all and more.
And now I put these things aside before
The cracks begin to flare anew
With all the things that can’t be true
And all the thoughts that I possess
That wonder how you care so less…

I’ve been collecting this poetry for a while now. As you can see, the first few pieces aren’t quite as there as the others. They’re not even whole. They’re bits and bobs of countless thoughts and fading voices. The last two pieces you may have seen before, but they are more whole and complete and mindful.

I’ve been waiting to get to this point where I can vocalise things. Apparently here it is. It’s taken almost four months of agony to find it. The top half of this is also a post from my tumblr account that I made yesterday evening when reminiscing on the night before.

I write all of this not to gain sympathy, but to release it from my soul as I feel it needs to be set free. I refuse to be less than I am. And this is me.

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3 thoughts on “Late Night & Waking”

  1. Life is tough but you will find your friends that will support. At the end of day, Life is a wonderful gift and I love it. Not because of the thrill but It is a constant roller coaster. Follow the aroma, cultivate your friendship with the people who surround you. If unconfortable, then move on and find the place will suit you cheers Jimmy Kopelia from http://www.jimmykopelia.blogspot.com

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