A Hypochondriac’s Grief
I've imagined my death hundreds of times
The pain in my side
The tickle in my throat
The yellow in my eyes
These are all signs
Of an end soon to come
Of a body on borrowed time
Of songs left unsung
The words held back at the tip of my tongue
Is the cancer coating the back of my throat
My racing heart rushing to it's conclusions
Is a heart attack with no antidote
Tell me your opinion and I'll say I'm the exception
Try as you will, but your words offer no security
That 1% chance, that's most certainly me
They are the rule and I'm the obscurity
It's certainty until it's not
Another peace of my mind stolen away
And how long until the doubt checks-in again to stay
Burrowing deep in my skin, the itch logic can't outweigh
The watchful eye of death won't let me rest
Whether I'm happy or filled with dread
It's there in my head asking to be fed
"Something's off," it says.
"What is it," I ask
"Something," it cries
And my body lies
Shape shifting to meet it's reply
My own demise is always on my mind
My own mind is my greatest affliction
What happens when these thoughts are no longer fiction
Will I feel vindication in my infliction?
Or will I cry for the millions of lives I've already lost
And mourn the nights left to ruin in my own thoughts
What I wouldn't give to live a life
Where I didn't grieve my own death each night
A Hypochondriac’s Grief
I've imagined my death hundreds of times
The pain in my side
The tickle in my throat
The yellow in my eyes
These are all signs
Of an end soon to come
Of a body on borrowed time
Of songs left unsung
The words held back at the tip of my tongue
Is the cancer coating the back of my throat
My racing heart rushing to it's conclusions
Is a heart attack with no antidote
Tell me your opinion and I'll say I'm the exception
Try as you will, but your words offer no security
That 1% chance, that's most certainly me
They are the rule and I'm the obscurity
It's certainty until it's not
Another peace of my mind stolen away
And how long until the doubt checks-in again to stay
Burrowing deep in my skin, the itch logic can't outweigh
The watchful eye of death won't let me rest
Whether I'm happy or filled with dread
It's there in my head asking to be fed
"Something's off," it says.
"What is it," I ask
"Something," it cries
And my body lies
Shape shifting to meet it's reply
My own demise is always on my mind
My own mind is my greatest affliction
What happens when these thoughts are no longer fiction
Will I feel vindication in my infliction?
Or will I cry for the millions of lives I've already lost
And mourn the nights left to ruin in my own thoughts
What I wouldn't give to live a life
Where I didn't grieve my own death each night
A Rant of Sorts
The state of the world is giving me anxiety.
The "heartwarming" news seem trite and saccharin
while the hateful news seems all too often.
So much to say with no microphone to talk in, except Facebook.
And these algorithms don’t seem to pick up what I need to hear, what we need to hear. The conversation.
And maybe I'm jaded.
Maybe social media has my head in a tail spin.
Up from down, right from wrong, I can't seem to tell the difference.
Maybe I'm just tired. Of the arrogance. Of the hypocrisy. Of the hate.
Nobody understands how to listen.
We retweet, share and post what we already know.
We all want the microphone but say the same damn things when the spotlight's shone. Consuming nothing but what feeds our current reality
With vastness of information outside our door.
In a state of cognitive dissonance down to our cores.
And while I lament on the societal side effects of apathy
Becoming more apathetic every day I wonder,
If anxiety precedes apathy, what comes after?
What will break through this digital chatter?
Maybe I just don't really know what to do anymore.
Except be anxious about the state of the world.
All the while hoping something more productive than anxiety and apathy takes hold.
Walls
We’re tiny vessels in this big machine
Moving product and paper disguised as dreams
Fueled by fear and cheap champagne
Smuggling anesthetics to forget the pain
We walk these roads of self-deceit
Rain and oil swirled beneath our feet
Glowing bright to distract our eyes
From our bodies crumbling into inevitable demise
Brick by Brick these walls grow higher
Wall after wall we simply grow tired
Of breaking down these barriers
It’s a disease and we’re all carriers
We’d rather slowly rot from inside
Escape behind our walls to hide
Than stare love in the face
And break down these divides with grace
We’d rather slowly rot from inside
Escape behind our walls to hide
Than admit that we care
And lay our chests bare
So I’ll keep you at an arm’s length
Manipulate the definition of strength
So that it fits my present tense
So that it fits this perpetual state of loneliness
And I know you will do the same
It’s all the same baggage with a different name
We’ll lie naked like lovers
But we could not be any more covered
Ode to Social Media
The digital web of egos shout, “I’m right”
While logic drowns in digital noise
Submerged in static, too blind to see
It’s not bombs, guns or military toys
That’s not what will destroy
This arrogance, This ignorance
Talking with our ears closed
Trust me my friends
Our weakness we’ve long since exposed
Anxiety
There is a scream inside my head
And it will not let me rest
Around me, the silence is maddening
Inside me, this scream is deafening
It envelopes every resting thought
It swallows my imagination
Around me, others walk contently
Inside me, my heart paces rapidly
This scream in my head is rather needy
Time of day or responsibilities are not priorities
It decides when to come and go
Not satiated with yes or no
It needs complex answers to impossible questions
To hear it’s echoes in places unmentioned
Legitimacy, it needs
For the panic and guilt it feeds
So where’s my release?
It’s certainly not in this 10 x 12 box
With chipped walls and ceiling rot
It’s not in this endless stream on my laptop
The stream of sound that lives in me
So loud I can’t remember to breath
It’s the cancer that rots my bones
The substance abuse that kills my soul
The scream that none but I know
That slowly etches its toll
These content beings in their silence, kill me
Just shut up and give me peace
If not peace, give me apathy
For once, let me feel nothing
Or find a way through the synapses of my brain
Down my left or right membranes
Through my fists or my mouth
Please, just get out
Quit tainting my every thought with dry rot
Quit drowning me in negativity
Distracting me from possibility
Let me be
When I try to muffle the cries
This screaming, I can’t subside
Like it lives deep within me
In parts I can’t reach
So I carry on in this metaphorical box
With chipped walls and ceiling rot
All the while, this scream in my head
Steals the night from me again
Anxiety
There is a scream inside my head
And it will not let me rest
Around me, the silence is maddening
Inside me, this scream is deafening
It envelopes every resting thought
It swallows my imagination
Around me, others walk contently
Inside me, my heart paces rapidly
This scream in my head is rather needy
Time of day or responsibilities are not priorities
It decides when to come and go
Not satiated with yes or no
It needs complex answers to impossible questions
To hear it’s echoes in places unmentioned
Legitimacy, it needs
For the panic and guilt it feeds
So where’s my release?
It’s certainly not in this 10 x 12 box
With chipped walls and ceiling rot
It’s not in this endless stream on my laptop
The stream of sound that lives in me
So loud I can’t remember to breath
It’s the cancer that rots my bones
The substance abuse that kills my soul
The scream that none but I know
That slowly etches its toll
These content beings in their silence, kill me
Just shut up and give me peace
If not peace, give me apathy
For once, let me feel nothing
Or find a way through the synapses of my brain
Down my left or right membranes
Through my fists or my mouth
Please, just get out
Quit tainting my every thought with dry rot
Quit drowning me in negativity
Distracting me from possibility
Let me be
When I try to muffle the cries
This screaming, I can’t subside
Like it lives deep within me
In parts I can’t reach
So I carry on in this metaphorical box
With chipped walls and ceiling rot
All the while, this scream in my head
Steals the night from me again