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Slam Poem (for the final)

We as a society have a tendency to ignore the silent. The ones who hide in the dark places. They hide from the spotlight so that no one can gauge just how much they've bent under the weight of the would they carry on their shoulders. Their minds and emotions have an age far beyond their years. It's these people whose tears fall into the darkness with no light around to make them shimmer. The ones who assign dimmer switches to their lives so they aren't forced to give this world all or nothing. It's these people who fall under the infinite weight of depression and self-loathing with no one around to help reassemble the shards of their shattered lives. These are the people who give off a vibe of hatred when you pass them by. Hatred for all life and everything that it's brought them... or rather hasn't. They bend in the darkness, farther than most could. The pained cries for help and love in the moments before they break don't make a sound. In the darkness there isn't a soul around to hear you fall. You can only glue your life back together before the pieces no longer fit. I believe that it is in this mentality that people pursue death. Where they spend their days contemplating ways to stop their breath. This is when they spend the last of their energy learning how to tie a noose. It's now that when they're holding a bottle of pills, their fingers get a little loose. Whether it was the bullies, the beatings, the loneliness, or the counselor in the anti-suicide group meetings who assures him day after wretched day, "It'll all fix itself, just wait." It's fate that none of us will live happily, but it's our job to try. Because when you die, you die alone, even when surrounded  by the people who claimed they meant something to you. Whether they do or don't we won't be able to call them out on the lie. We'll be too busy saying goodbye to the ones who actually mattered. Looking back on our shit-storm of a life and smiling, regretting nothing beyond the fact that it's coming to an end. That we can't bend the will of death to give us more time just to prove we have the strength to go on. We smile because we survived. We could have drowned during our dive to depression as so many before us. We fade from the world leaving only the lesson that life is not impossible. It's a lonely road that we walk with sudden turns for the worse. It burns our consciences to think that our time won't be spent in the world we were promised as kids. We don't live in a world growing up to be what we want. You're not gonna be a princess. You're not going to be a superhero. I have yet to own an ice cream shop. We do what we can to scrape by. We try to make the free-fall to death look like a graceful way down. We tend, though, to get a face full of dirt when we eat shit hitting the ground. But despite our lack of grace, or a parachute, we pause in the seconds before impact to say to ourselves, "It was worth it."

A Note to a Friend

The first time I saw you was about a month into the second semester of my freshman year. I followed my friends will and Miguel into Driber's room for lunch. You sere the first person I saw because you stood out. At first you seemed like a really interesting person who I wanted to know. Eventually though, your perpetually loud voice just pissed me off and I decided I hated you.

Six or seven months later your writing would inspire my own and then mine would do the same for you and yours for mine and so on. Eventually i would start to like you in "that" way. I dreamt of us meeting during the zombie apocalypse. I ended up giving my life to save you. This story was later written down and read to the class. Not long after that, I learned that you were dating one of the coolest people I've ever had the opportunity to talk to. My feelings for you died there... I'm not sure why. We slowly started to talk more and I learned that despite your outwardly happy appearance, you were hurting inside just as much as me. You aren't only crazy in the way a friend would describe it, you're crazy in a way a psychiatrist would describe it. This makes you the perfect person to help me, and honestly, that scares me.  There's always a certain level of uncomfortability around you because you know me too well. Beyond myself, I don't like people knowing who I really am and you know me better than I do. When people ask me who I am or what I believe in, you're always the first to answer and your answer always has more truth behind it than mine. The most unsettling part about this is that we've only known each other for a couple months. I wouldn't call you a best friend. That term makes me nervous. It implies a level of unparalleled trust that I find hard to give. I've got a bad habit of pushing away people who I want close, even if it's only with the title I give them. Even "friend" is a bit of a stretch. Regardless, I will be your shoulder to cry on. I will be there to provide just enough support to keep you standing when all others would do to much and push you the other way. I will be there for you until you want me gone. I care for you in a way that borders on love... but not in a romantic way. I assume that's what a friend is. If it is, then congratulations, you're the first.

For The Record

There's something strange about being in the arms of another person. For me, it is always a perfect moment that reminds me I am not alone. Whether the arms belong to someone who cares or someone who just feels obligated, I can pretend that I matter. I have hurt people in fits of burning rage that I can't fix. They can't be made up for, but it could have been prevented by the embrace of another. I know it sounds crazy, but the rage I feel stems from my loneliness. The loneliness protected by a wall I've been trained to build ever since I could speak. I was taught by  My parents to lie the brick. By my peers who helped me to adhere them with cement, and by my friends who reminded me to build three more so that I can close myself in from all sides. But despite all of that, a simple hug carries enough force to send the whole thing collapsing in on itself.
I'm not sure what it is about someone's arms around me that makes me feel safe. Almost like nothing can touch me because this person, whoever they may be, is there. That has an importance beyond all measure to someone who has spent his whole like fighting and losing his battles alone ever since the very first time he opened his mouth to whisper, "daddy". When she hugged me, although I barely knew her, and even though it was all in fun, and even though it was really awkward with her stroking my hair, I felt safe. Like maybe, just maybe, my suicide might be mourned by someone. Maybe I'd be remembered as more than the quiet kid in the corner. When you ended it by telling her, "I wouldn't do that, he's not a huggy person," I was too stunned to say anything back. I needed that then and now more than ever and it's something I'll never get back. When I finally was ready to accept that it was over, for a split second, I felt a hatred come over me. A hatred reserved for the kids who broke me, the mother who watched me fall apart, and the father who taught me how to hate.

I Love How He Loves You

This was an attempt at the writing style of Shane Koyczan. Specifically, "More Often Than Sometimes". It's a poem that is meant to be read like a story.

True story.

This is a love poem, but it's not about me. It's about the love that you share. The love that I see. It's about a feeling I get from seeing the two of you, one that wont go away. It's also about a wish. One that I wasted today. Today was November 11th, 2011. Everyone said make a wish at 11:11. Now, I never believed in the wish anyway, but something about the combination of the date and the time made me feel hopeful in a way. So when the time rolled around and the whole class stood, I sat and I wished as hard as I could. I tried so hard to make it real in my mind. Almost as if wishes depended on time. I'm not really sure why I made the wish. I'd always found shooting stars, birthday candles and wishbones somewhat childish. So what makes five pairs of snake eyes so different? Maybe that this one guaranteed you got what you wanted and the other ones didn't. So, I wished that I could be like Him. To find my yang, because it's lonely as yin. I want to be the favorite of someone so perfect, and I'd always have the satisfaction of knowing I'm handpicked when I look into her eyes. So I looked toward the skies and said, "Time, give me love." As if time held the power of heaven above. I made the wish out of desperate need, and truthfully, a little jealousy and greed. Because when we're writing our book and he decides to show, what I feel is that need for love grow. When you leave, we talk about sex, video games, stuff like that, but your name always has a funny way of bringing itself back. The way that he loves you and how you have the cutest laugh. That's why he likes it so much. I love how he loves you. It's a unique feeling to see. Something I'll never figure out by listening or reading to these poems about how wonderful it is. The songs about love being the dim-wit maker that it is. I've never met him in person, but he's someone I want to be. Someone who a stranger can look at and say, "See? That's who I want to be." Because that's who he is to me. While I've never talked to him in person, you can see how he feels through the words he chooses. He talks about love as if everyone loses and then he says that he won. Because after all is said and done, you're the only one who's ever made him feel whole. He and I are the same in a lot of ways. We've both been battered and broken and beaten but the difference is, he's found someone to complete him. I see the way you look when you think about him. Your eyes gleam like the stars and everything around them goes dim. Your voice goes higher and you can't sit still. You seem to get lighter and that look that could kill leaves your eyes. Because for once, you're sure that this won't end with silent goodbyes. For a moment, I can see all that makes you cry fade away. You lead the burning urge to die today somewhere far away. Somewhere so far from here that you refuse to hear during this moment that life is anything less than beautiful. You bring eight of your ten cuticles to your lips and make one of the most adorable noises I've ever heard. The one that he loves you to make. So I'll take the time when 11:11 rolls around again tonight and ask to meet someone who can make everything alright in my head... or at least make it seem that way. Because I see the two of you and it makes me sad. Actual love is something that I've never had. Just a flimsy thing that most would call a relationship. But keep in mind we throw that word around like the bag of chips no one wants at the end of lunch because everyone's too full to take it. The relationship just ends up in the landfill in our hearts, taking up a part of it that we were reserving for someone who would make it whole. So I've made a goal to describe him and you and everything that the two of you are. Then I'll take the time to pray to the clock at 11:11 that my life will look like a little slice of earthbound heaven when I'm 16.  Because right now my life is a house built disappointment resting on a fault line of broken dreams. I want her eyes to gleam like the stars at the mere thought of my face. When she doesn't get a replied text right away, I want her mind to race. I want to wake up thinking of her. I want to fall asleep without drinking because she will be the only drug I need. So I'm buying all the time that money can buy so I have the time to try and imagine every little detail of him and you before those five pairs of snake eyes come around for the last time in 1,000 years. I need to make this image as crystal clear as the bond between you two. I love how he loves you. I love how you love him, too.

Quotation

This is unfinished. It was written in 30 minutes and has had no editing. It's very rough.


"From heads unworthy" comes judgement - From Heads Unworthy - Rise Against
"But that's okay" because "I'm not okay" - ???? and I'm Not Okay - My Chemical Romance
And "for every man who looks upon me with judgement in his eyes
There's a woman who looks upon me with wetness in her thighs" - Help Wanted - Shane Koyczan
I've flown on "paper wings halfway around the world
Until they burned up in the atmosphere" -Paper Wings - Rise Against
And you "just stand there and watch me burn -??? - Rhianna
But that's alright because" "I'm coming back" - A Little Piece of Heaven - Avenged Sevenfold
I'd tell you, "war is the answer" and - War is the Answer - Five Finger Death Punch
"You better hide yo kids, hide yo wife" - ?????
Because when it comes to death "no one gets left behind" - No One Gets Left Behind - FFDP
But i'm more likely to be "standing on the rooftop ready to fall" - Ready to Fall - Rise Against
Than I am to even touch you
It's hard to be pacifistic when you mimic "the way of the fist" - The Way of the Fist - FFDP
That's why I have music, "and if I can't hear the music" - If I Can't Hear the Music - James Blunt
I'll need something to "be my escape" - Be My Escape - ????
And when "I write what I write" ???
People seem to think "A design is written in his head every time" - Remember the Name - Fort Minor
But when I write, it's more like a "bloodstained hurricane" - Stricken - Disturbed
And to write anything great "I bleed it out, digging deeper" Bleed it Out - Linkin Park
And when "I've no more blood to bleed" -Blood to Bleed - Rise Against
I beg and plead, "move, pen, move" - Move, Pen, Move - Shane Koyczan
Because "deep inside where nothing's fine
I've lost my mind" -Welcome to the Family - Avenged Sevenfold
So I write that my thoughts might
"Tumble up through the roof to tickle to toes of angels" and leave me - Beethoven - Shane Koyczan
But all the writing in the world "is never enough, no, it's never enough" - Never Enough - FFDP

How to be an American

I just spent got done eating a cheeseburger... in a recliner... listening to AC/DC..... while playing Call of Duty....