Mental Health I

When will this pen become the magic paintbrush for beautiful landscapes of thoughts? When will I 'bleed gold' and touch people with the manipulation of the English language? When will they listen to me, when I don't sound like you? When does recycling begin to save the world, when nothing gets to be the same again? When do my questions get answered? The questions that were the whole reason for this, now. These questions, along with the pain that I haven't yet forgotten, and new pain piling on top of the open wounds of the old, wondering what will scar and what will fade. Wondering so many things so much that I feel my eyeballs yearning to turn into my head and look around for the 'off' switch. I used to say I would much rather be deaf than blind but with such painful sights of such happiness I'd almost rather be blind.. I wonder (yes, here we go again) what would burn through my heart and soul with the loss of sight. Even temporary loss sometimes can be a damper. Like about two minutes ago, and the ironic thing being I'm writing this in mental health. This could be completely appropriate physical mental health - good and bad. Loss of sight in a 'relaxation technique' will be more than welcome. However, the marathon of thoughts waiting at the starting line for the gunshot of me letting my guard down is completely UNwelcome and should have a restraining order placed on the entire population of said marathon.
And she said as we get older, we start stepping back and taking a good look at ourselves; and maybe that's my problem. People my age shouldn't see themselves. I need to stop trying to figure myself out and then secretly wanting so badly for someone else to when I can't but being resistant to letting them in.

Raging

You always try to one up me

But one day you'll fall on your face.

Then you, and the rest of the world can see

That you're nothing special, merely a disgrace. 

It's always the right timing,

When you throw around your "bitterness"

For you to drop your rhyming 

Making me oh so much more less.

You really don't know.

You're actually kind of stupid.

You should stop trying to put on a show.

You've even worn out cupid.

You're not smart or clever, 

You can't come back with snide remarks.

You use people as a lever,

And sometimes, I'd like for you to be fed to the sharks.

Just shut your ugly mouth,

No one wants to hear what's gushing out.

Just fly off the Earth way far south

So when you do, we won't hear you shout.

You act so sweet and loving,

While spewing your real side into my life.

The things that no one likes, you're shoving.

I feel like driving you into a knife.

Call me psycho and malicious,

Sometimes I just can't help myself,

You drive me to be vicious.

But I'll put my feelings on a shelf. 

J.

Ay

I'm asked if I'm okay,

But what am I supposed to say? 

That every single day,

I feel you're gone, away?

As the year approaches May

On my bed I weep and lay

Thinking the skies, how gray

And my life seems to fray. 

So I'll sit here and pray,

For a single beautiful ray. 

J.

Short And Fail

Just run the clock out, cause that's what you've been doing this whole time.
Be careful though, don't let them see your face, into your eyes.
Hide them. Like your hair is so good at doing.

J.

Mansfield

My smile isn't as bright
With the realization we never make it to the lights.
Late at night when the world still glows
What we have is strong it shows.
A drizzle isn't the same
But the big picture is I am game.
Her face in my mind is overpowered and bloated.
But on this earth memories have floated.
With what we still share
In others' eyes we'll see glares.
But you said nothing else matters
So the frights we shall shatter.
In the dismal melancholy
With everything there is folly.
To hear the soft sweet voice
I'm left with only one choice.
When we're in the morrow
We may feel more or less sorrow.
But one day in a huff
We'll find smiling is enough.

J. 

Shattered and Broken

Shattered and broken
My eyes on a token.
Slap it down on the table
Our problems like they're a fable.
Shattered and broken
You never heard what I had spoken.
You talked of her agony
But you forgot, that once was my decree.
Shattered and broken
I, in so much pain you had woken.
My walls are those of battle fields
Like from long ago when they used sheilds.
Shattered and broken
I started to open.
But you couldn't resist
Even when you knew I'd insist.
Shattered and broken
That seems like my life's slogan..


J.

Stats

So as his call resonated in the air and the vibrations of the mishap of his extremities rippled through the floor, I felt the emptiness of those drawers upstairs, the hollowness of the thick new carpet, and the lightness of the cold warmth in the large abode where no one really seemed to reside. Except for the hard, cold marble that had once seen only the cracks in its design and, until recent years in its lifetime, nothing below my curious nose. And the ever so long repetitive call tone that I'm so used to hearing, followed by the obnoxious greeting that once would've been cute but now even the robot lady knows the kind of person that it represents, doesn't compare to the automated messaging system that I rarely heard but that brings an army of emotions with the memory of the inverse of the last one containing three not so robotic words that everyone can predict but three words that no one knows the feelings of. As the purple and green and pink and blue an red and orange seem to swirl in my eyeballs and paint the hell I see while my adrenaline that was quickly pumped kicks me right into its pit with the shaking for days and screams so very loud yet I still can't feel my toes...

J.

Untitled III

I sat as I had seen the beautiful girl doing and thought of what she might have contemplated at this odd angle so convenient, wondering if the thought about solving the problems of her world as I did mine.
And the girl I want to be is "very conscious about what [she] thinks about." And as we stand, crowding toward one another, she softly lifts a wish into the air that the girl would come to that point in her life and I truly, deeply yearn for her to lift such a wish for me. Lightly, gently, slowly into the elements.
With the shadows dancing across his face in my peripheral vision, teasing my thoughts as to whether or not he was entering them, snapping my neck back to reality.

J.

Come In With The Cold

With the snowflakes dancing around, not quite falling, don't you wish you could be one of them?

Prancing cheerfully, typical (yet incomparable) beauty, and a uniqueness you can't create.
So quick to grab your attention. But right as you set your focus on one, it disappears with the violent wind.

The perfect analogy for you as you sit looking out the window where your mind seems to wander as you're stuck here. Trying to stay warm but it's all just so cold... 

J.

A Rhyme Out of the Psychotic

Hannibal the cannibal is fascinating.
Maybe because she's procrastinating.
She knows how love hurts.
You, she doesn't want to desert.
She closed her eyes and breathed.
With exhaust, she's been bequeathed.
The pain, you can see in her eyes,
But she always has on a disguise.
You had it once but you lost,
Somewhere in the very last frost.
Everything wasn't turned around.
Now, absolutely nothing sound.
This poem is getting tiring.
Maybe it's because she's desiring
The right words to tell you,
That "forever" was with who?


J.