Nothing Left

Impostor

I, a false pretender to the throne

command thee thus: stay away

from me, from my filth, from the

degeneracy of my very being.

There is nothing good here.

No beauty to redeem. No

great ambition or fame

to be found in this husk.

Do not argue. You may not

tell me about how great I already am.

I fear you may convince me. It feeds

the narcissism, the complacency.

I will not be great. I will not be good.

Do not place your hopes upon me.

I merely take and take and take what's not mine

so that I can pretend I had a part in creation.

Go. Cast my chains off thee.

Be free. Be happy. Be real.

I will hold myself back and watch

with a jealous, happy smile.

So cute. So fluffy. So adorable.

Pushing Me

The Day of Reckoning comes and goes.

I think I am free. I act as if I am free.

You take that freedom away from me.

You say it is for my own good.

I see how much you love me.

But this is not the right way.

You have pushed me my whole life.

Everything I am is thanks to you.

All the glory. And all the pain.

The same boiling water that hardens the potato will soften the egg.

The same heat that purifies the iron also makes it soft.

The same hammer that strikes the nail will cave in my head.

Just one more year, you say. Just one more year until the moment.

Just one more year until I can enjoy my own existence.

Just one more fucking year.

That moment comes and goes and it moves ever further back.

You move the Rubicon South, and you move it further South.

The march never ends. We must push to the Rubicon.

It is always the critical moment. Each battle is the deciding fight.

Each time you promise me that the next fight will be the last.

And each time I believe you.

You were pushing me when I was a child.

You still push me as an adult.

I'm sure you will still push me as an old man.

Pushing me right into that open coffin as you tell me my legs aren't good enough.

Notice

I think I'm going to stop posting poetry. I've had enough. The depression hits exactly the same as always and I can't come up with anything new. The words are splayed out in front of you all - they will allow you to peer into my very soul - and there's nothing more for my poems to tell you, no arrangement of words that brings anything new to the table. Anything I make now will be rehashings of everything in the previously, and I don't think I can come up with anything new or good.

Good day to all.

May whatever God is up there see the insincerity of my penance.

Edit: I may continue posting cryptic shit because I'm eccentric like that fr.

Me talking to the therapist voice in my head

"okay, so what do you say when someone says they're not worth anything"

"Who the hell says they're worthless I'll fight them" "Alright, now what should you think when you're the one that feels like you're worthless" "Well I'd be right, I am worthless" "no-"

Just One More Year

Just one more year until the Event That Decides My Life

and then I'll finally be free

The event comes and goes.

I am now free.

He takes it away again.

Just one more year,

Just one more year.

Just one more year,

Just one more year.

Just one more year until you can get what you want

and then you'll finally be free

The year comes and goes

You are free. Nothing changed.

Because he took it away again.

Why Should I Care About Him

Why should I care about him? C'mere. Just look at this train wreck.

Ugly face. UUUUUGLY fucking face. Cmon. Have you seen this guy? He looks like every single kind of criminal's face averaged into a final composite. A face only a mother could love, except not even that - his mother is trying to fix it as we speak! Hah!

Fatass belly. Musculature of a rat. Those arms you see? Maybe a twentieth is muscle, the rest is fat. Can barely handle 15 pound dumbbells, what a fucking weakling.

His terrible posture. Back hunched over like he's 90 years old and about to croak, reinforcing his own negative self-image. Eyes empty like his brain, completely numb to reality.

And what about the mind? Well, what about it? He's a fucking dolt. Can't do anything well, refuses to work hard, just escapes everything.

Why, I'd almost go so far as to say that he's the product of nothing but childhood trauma and bad coping mechanisms developed in response to that trauma, except he might also be dealing with some undiagnosed autism and ADHD and those two aren't really his fault.

And look at him even now. Hiding away, refusing to deal with his problems, just writing and yelling and wallowing in despair like a fucking sewer rat, afraid of even asking his time-tested friends for support or help. Instead he just screams into the meaningless void like it's gonna do anything. Newsflash, bub, it ain't doin shit!

He's even gotten himself stuck in a circular loop! He thinks he doesn't deserve good things, he thinks he doesn't deserve to be happy, or be loved, or be human, and this sort of thinking makes him undeserving of those things, and he knows that, and he keeps on thinking it because he wants to not deserve those things! This sort of negative circular reasoning is like getting hit by a parked car; just don't!

And he talks like he's the only one with these problems, like he's the only one who'll ever understand, as he looks right into the faces of everyone who's ever had worse, and tells them that he has it bad, like the whole world has been bullying him specifically instead of him choosing to dig further into the pit.

He thinks he's martyring himself! Like his own suffering makes anyone any happier! (Well, it evidently makes his father happier, but that's besides the point.) What a joke! Come around, everybody, look! An idiot! Let's all point and laugh!

He's not even doing it correctly! All that happens when he talks is he starts fucking venting and making everyone else upset at him and feel bad. If you're really martyring yourself, why even say anything if you don't have something positive to say? Just be a good person and die quietly in the ditch. Shut up about your problems, everyone else has it way worse and doesn't need you adding to it.

Anyways, as you can clearly see, this lil fucker is completely worthless. Waste of air and oxygen. I'd tell him to just jump, except he doesn't even know where his nearest bridge is and hasn't bothered to search it up. What a fucking failure. Tell me, seriously, why should I ever care about him?

Oh. Wait.

That's a mirror.

Change and the Future

if I'm going to do anything I'm going to make sure I can't be forced to go back.

It's great to go from poor to rich, but it's hell to go from rich to poor.

To taste the fruits of victory and then be dragged by the foot right back down to hell?

No thank you! I would rather not eat at all than eat exactly once.

Anyways I am already at rock bottom and have been for years. What more is new?

Oh, do not get me wrong, haha! I'm not saying I have no hope for the future or whatnot.

I'm just being very careful. "Risk-avoidant?" Yes, that sounds like a good term.

I will reach for the grapes only when I have stacked up enough chairs and boxes to reach for it easily.

When I jump, I'm going to grab the whole goddamn vine, not just one or two measly grapes.

I'm a greedy little motherfucker, isn't that right? I ask for little, I want for little, but what I do want for, I wait for the right time and grab hold of it forever.

Anyways the future is only real if you grasp it and hold on tight, and I'm not going to jump and risk a broken leg for nothing.

I Fear

I fear

that I am not perfect.

I am not attractive

and I am not well.

I fear

that any effort I make

is doomed to be wasted

like the other efforts I've made.

I fear

that if I change myself

I will no longer be myself

a conformity gained, a uniqueless lost.

I fear

that if I force myself to change

I will force myself through life

and not have enjoyed any of it at all.

I fear

that if I am just "another person"

then I will have lost all chances

of recieving your love.

I fear

that if I help others

naively, kindly, and oh so optimistically

that I will only be disadvantaging myself.

And yet, I help.

I encourage, I uplift, I support.

No matter how naive I may seem

I continue to serve the good of others.

So maybe, this time

This time I can change, truly

for the better, for the best, to be a new me

To push through the fear while keeping me myself

I fear

that I will still not be deserving

of your love; of your kindness; of you

that my efforts will again be wasted

But I will try anyways.

Overachieving

Here's the test I scored well on.

Here's the competition I won an award in.

Is it enough for you? Will I be allowed happiness?

Can I talk to human beings again and pretend I am one of them?

The past year, no, two years, no, five, no -

The past over-a-decade has been nothing but more

so much more that whenever someone says "burnout is bad!"

I think inside, "I lived it; I breathed it; I became it; sounds like you just have a skill issue."

And I'm a terrible person for thinking that. If it hurt for me, it'll hurt for them.

But god damn if I have something else I'm proud of taken away from me again.

I come back with a 95. You ask, "why isn't it 96? 97? 100?" Or maybe you don't care. Just see that it's an 'A' and forget it by tomorrow.

I come back saying I did well. You ask, "and how exactly? What did you do? What did everyone else think?"

And I tell you because I'm a good child and I'm still that naive pushover who thinks the world is good and you are still family

And inside I pack up another bottle of anger and disappointment of various kinds of both you and myself.

And in the end I've had enough. You taught me how to shorten my fuse, and I've tried to make it last a little longer but you burn so hot.

I tell you to shut up and wait for the results. And inside I think but don't say: "You fucking asshole. Piece of shit that can't bother to be proud of their own child for fucking once."

So tired of your shit. So tired of being a good person to you because you're just an ass and you can't change that.

So tired of pushing forwards all the time. So tired of being pushed forwards all the time. Can't do it myself like a real human being.

So tired of being this mess who can't pull themselves together like a normal person. So tired of procrastinating and crying and sitting here wallowing in the exact same cesspool of angst.

So tired of doing everything wrong and right and being the perfect idiot child and pushing forwards and wading back and the whole fucking thing.

I'm just so, so fucking tired.