Poetry Attempt: Begin Anew But Nothing's Changed

 I've had to take a break from writing for a short while. Everything I tried to put to paper was meaningless, ineffective, and annoying. Numbness gripped me like an unshakable frost as I felt my mind descending into a slowly pulsating pile of uncreative, thoughtless nothingness. If it weren't for my current job, I don't know if I'd be able to get out of bed most days. There are decidedly a few select things in this life worth living for, a conclusion that took me far too long to reach, but, as of now, I have yet to actually feel the effects of these rare beneficial aspects that are needed to pull me through towards the other side of this horrific and unending cloud of misery. The more I try to crawl out of my sordid hole of self-inflicted pain and suicidal ideation, the more I fail and the further I fall down. As I finally started to write a few short phrases here and there and thought I had enough to write something new, I came to the awful realization that I am still simply writing about the same old shit I've been dealing with for nearly a year now. Of course, most of my writing will always tackle similar themes related to the ridiculous menagerie of shit I've dealt with my whole life - but no matter what I write these days, it seems to almost always come back to the events that took place at the start of last year. I've had enough. But I can't deny what my mind feels it wants to write about and maybe this is all part of the """"process"""" or whatever. Anyway, to the few that are reading this...apologies for the constant repetition in all that I write. One day I will progress, but that day is not today. 

Regardless, the following writing was broken up in two as it was all getting to be too long and parts of it didn't quite fit with other sections of the "poem". It's in two parts, the second part will be a separate post, but really they are of the same poem, birthed of the same ideas, woes, impossible yearnings, defeat, unending heartbreak, and dreams of my rapidly approaching state of nonexistence. 

January, Before and After

Repetitive sounds of winter skies

Slicing open 

Descending their guts onto 

Chaotic skyscrapers

And disorderly residents 

Forcing themselves into each other

Outside, trees are slipping and dissolving 

Like dreams made of mud 

Spewing out of your overstuffed ears

Sickly beige church 

Overburdened by wormwood 

And scintillating, black centipedes

Wails and whimpers

In constantly irregular, nauseating patterns

Infecting the empty wanderers

With their primitive subconsciousness

And littering the already collapsing scenery 

With prevailing tableaus of 

Carnivorous gloom. 

Do you remember any of this?

Across an ocean of scaphism,

Devouring insects pushing past evolution,

And sinking cargo tanks 

Of discarded vestigial limbs drained of blood

Lies the tattered remnants of my home

Built up with miscarried

Fetal tissue,

Undead dangers of my unwanted becoming,

Lined with sick mirrors, inverted images,

Infected maggot eggs 

Hatching malaise and lethal ideation 

In my fabric of existence. 

I can’t return here, 

But here I am. 

Aneasthize the last twelve months

Slash downwards, force the cavity open 

Hold and fold back the tissue,

There we are,

Careened in a new human shape

Blissfully rotting away 

Among a morose city of drunken industrialization,

Strewn with defaced graves

Of shared heroes we’ll never meet. 

I’m tracing little whispering cherubs

Carved into your chest,

As phantasmagoric ballets creep through 

Our frozen windowpane

Cacophonous delirium swells between 

Thin, mold-encrusted walls 

We swap and swallow our pills

Our bodies involuntarily dancing 

To bells in violent collisions,

Ancient surrounding stone buildings 

Resonating with madcap sirens

And overwhelming 

Young adult decay.

You don’t remember,

I couldn’t ever imagine 

Any of this

Ending. 

Those unwanted last days,

My mind spun unendingly 

With fear of returning to 

The perpetual gray place of once abandoned home,

And nonsensical visions of love 

Even after your still unbelievable betrayal. 

To reach out and hold you forever, 

No matter where in the disgusting, collapsing, meaningless world,

No matter our illnesses, upsets, 

And compounding panics of the encroaching unknown,

The feeling I was forced to suppress,

Waiting for the anger to take hold,

Erase my intoxicatingly loving perception of you,

But it never came,

I’m stuck only in unrequitedness 

And abandonment. 

Caccooned in a barbed wire quilt

Of your making,

Grafting and bonding to my scabbed,

Infected skin,

Coiled in fervent, isolated nightmares

Not ready to leave 

The place we once agreed to call our home. 

Hollow deadness of winter descends,

I’m screeching my empty,

Frozen voice

Through the rolling plague of silence

You’ve infected between us,

Still unable to accept 

That you’re long since gone. 

It’s already been a year, 

Nothing changes,

Nothing ends, 

For the rest of my anemic, crippled days,

You’re nowhere to be found, and I'll never understand

Why won't you care?

-

Part Two:

https://manintheradiator.blogspot.com/2024/01/poetry-attempt-continuation-of-self.html