They will hate me forever
And that's okay
I can never be what I've wanted
But will spend the rest of my life
Chasing a dream
That shines only in my distorted mind
So twisted by inadequacy
And pain
And the knowledge that nothing will ever
make me Beautiful
Not these words
Not my tears
Not my abandon, which I embrace nonetheless
Not my body, which isn't good enough anyway
Not even the mournful melody that is mine
The one thing that should justify my place on this Stage
But what does talent matter?
Your apathy
Your casual disgust
Make you almost as pathetic as I am
Your edge doesn't even cut
Because it's so much easier to let go
When no one cares
Every useless effort I undertake
Every sliver of recognition I beat and tear out of this world
Is sweet as rusted knives
Like cherries to my tongue
Because you disdain me each blade
And anything I manage to accomplish
Is like laughing in your face
Even though that wouldn't bother you
If you noticed at all
So I'll surrender to oblivion
And the music
And the bottle's beautiful ignorance
And my depravity
And my blissful bitterness
And my insanity
And if you knew how crazy I really am, you would understand what solace that is
And mindless anything
And gorgeous nothing
I'm a young professional writing about my life and experiences.
About Me
- BrightenedBoy
- I'm a young teacher in a little town close to the Arctic Circle.
8 comments:
Well, how does one comment on this? I had several reactions...first wondering who you are "speaking " to that hurt you this way. A person...or the general population? Second-if you are really as depressed as this sounds...you really need to talk to someone. I'm sure there is free counseling on campus. Third-eventually, as you get older...you won't give a damn what others think. Do what makes you happy (although I suggest that the bottle and depravity aren't the answer). One thing that I know for sure, you are an excellent writer...even if your words trouble me.
Sue
Beyond what Sue said, there is the obvious question of who is speaking in this poem. Is it you, or have you by some remarkable feat of imagination managed to gain an insight into the mind of someone who hurts himself and engages in self-destructive behavior to cope with his pain. I hope it's the latter, but I fear it's the former.
You have painted such a vivid series of vignettes showing a life full of hurts and a heart full of love. I hope the love can overcome the hurts.
*hugs*
Hang in there, Brightened Boy, and continue to brighten.
Yes, I wondered who the voice was? or was the subject talking about themselves? Either way, hope you're fine and snow free these days.
(o)
Should we be worried?
Nicely described.
Some days we need to sit at the lip of the glass and only feel the sun on our faces.
And the knowledge that nothing will ever
make me Beautiful
So not true. Don't believe that.
this is from a dark time
Post a Comment