Sad Poems

Poems to Cuddle Up With

Imperceptibility

Laying awake, silently engaging himself
To a battle of wits
To see where it ends inside his head.

Pummeling audible transgressions of love
With a thorough candor
Trying to make headway in the night

Is that a bright light near the end of the tunnel?
It's a street light laughing at him
About how foolish he's been throughout life

It simply leads to another tunnel, a deep schism
Of seemingly unlimited depth
Where he's mocked about the path taken

The high road? The low road? Is it a road? Not really.
More like a thoroughfare currently
Which shows signs of being a path to madness

He slips and falls, then cries out, then looks around his self
Finding his relinquished cries
Abandoned in a vacuous vacancy

An emptiness filled with the forms of many facades;
Roaming like unhitched ghost personas
Meandering about, droning on and on...

"Why have you forsaken us?" they clamor endless
"I don't NEED you anymore."
"Then why have you kept us here in this void?"

A grave answer to a question so keenly asked:
"I don't LIKE you anymore."
"Then why have you kept us here in this void?"

"Because you're the line between who I was and who I am.
I don't WANT you anymore."
"How are we to leave when the gate is closed?"



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A churning swirl of malevolent instigation
...from hatred
...from sadness
...from loneliness
...from loss
...from arrogance
...of the things he looks away from
...of the things he runs away from
...of the things he screams from
...of the things he recoils from
...of the things he dies from

A finely fought battle of wits and sinew
To be renewed every night
In the dreams that somehow PREVENT his sleep:

Expectancy of personal loss;
Loss of family members
Loss of emotional connections
Loss of interpersonal patience within the dimensions of his relationships
Loss of the ability to distinguish the difference between the people that care about him and the people that only care about what he brings and what he has and how he looks and what he says

An indistinguishable mass of people, always surrounded by people.
Always in solus

Relationships now seeming fake because he always initiates

The niceties
The pleasantries
The gallantry

All the while seeming like a waste of his time
Time which he doesn't have
Time which slips through his fingers like so much sand in an hourglass, mocking him, and at the same time confiding in him that it's not real but merely a construct meant to confine and retain him at its convenience.

He braves on through the tunnel, apparently unaware

They're

Following him at his pace
Shadowing, in wait
To keep him in place
To be used as bait
With an appropriate face
At a time and date
More accurately specified as when he "needs" them to "help" him appropriate

That which, most sufficiently, is required for his fate:

To talk with brevity
On all the topics which satiate
Other people's desire to verbally fornicate
In tandem with their selfish desires that debilitate
Their ability to resonate
Beyond what they WANT other people to perceive about them at any one time


Heart-wrenchingly onward...
Through the gate
On this imprecise date
He moves to obliterate all things innate;
Bringing about a change to precipitate
His love for people, erasing the hate and to formulate an apostate reaction
That helps who he REALLY is gain traction
Amongst the people he stays with, always in retraction
To enhance and stay this consequential compulsory subtraction
From these internal characters of poor social fashion
Who so angrily mire him in the depths of "lame" passion
And in some fashion create
A severance of passions that, to date,
Have failed to garner him a true embrace


...He will not be relegated to his commensurate fate of silent, sideline acceptance of undeclared hostilities bounding with remorse, undelivered in return