Recent Poem of Self-Hate and Confusion

This was written following a day of an extensive and painful intake exam, the question arising of being either diagnosed with bipolarity or with BPD, a long and solitary drive out to the ocean, lying awake at night in a mostly unfamiliar place staring at a gun mounted on the wall above me and a razor blade left by the kitchen sink, hoping to feel distracted, hoping to be asleep, realizing that I might always have difficulties explaining myself properly in a way that will make anyone care, and all the while trying desperately to silence specific crushing and excruciatingly loud thoughts of wanting to no longer exist. I don't know how to justify the act of continuing to live in a way that I'll accept and believe. Everything is turning more directly inward, boiling over in an incomprehensible wreck of thoughts and emotions beyond my control, and a premature escape seems imminent. But who am I to complain? This is how most people must feel, right? Anyway, this poem is shorter than the ones I usually write and it is especially horrible...but I have to write it here so it's gone and out of my head. 

written sometime between February 24th and 25th, 2023

Untitled Failure: 

There's no time anymore

It all stands still, bludgeoned to a pulp,

A discarded, ugly mass frozen on a hill

Pierced through and fully gored

By dead tree branches

Now inverted, stabbing into the earth

Their trunks perpetually spiral up

Into the sludge of the sky

Time is stuck, its gouged-out wounds

Bleeds out in slow bursts of nonsense

Time won't move 

And I can't take it anymore

And I can't move.

I'll rearrange every word I've ever known,

Endlessly and tirelessly forever more, 

Exhaust all my effort to hold back 

This torrent of self-destruction

A great deluge of words I don't want to say,

Until a blistered malignant lump 

Of my life's pathetic perpetual sorrows cracks open my jaw

And heaves itself

Out of the reopened hole eating away at my face

Again. 

(Screaming until my tongue liquifies 

And drips down my slashed open body

It still won't make any sense to anyone. 

And time still won't budge.)

I'm festering in the mirror

My teeth, dead soldiers, dragged out my of skull

My hair is tar and black mold

Growing in sickly tendrils out of the

Many failed exit wounds lining my head

This is my hollow point self-expression.

My personality slips and explodes

Watching darkened streams of it drip down the wall

Illegible patterns of personal disgust

Where the wall-mounted shotgun used to be. 

The clock is a beckoning razor blade

Cold steel barely perched on the edge of the sink

Overlooking the coiled bramble of my flayed pile of veins

It will never be the same, it will never be the same

Time stands still - unable to dissolve

And join the rest of the inverted destruction abound

My indecision is killing me. 

Time won't let me move

And I can't wait until

I let everybody down. 

 

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