Gone Mad

Your life contains:

24 hours in a day

7 days in a week

4 weeks in a month

12 months in a year

I could go on, but I'd get bored...

My life contains:

"1"

One hour

One day

One time

I could go on, but I'd never finish...

When your day ends and you climb into bed...

 My day has been going on for three of yours.

When night falls, and you lay down to rest...

My sun sits high at its zenith, never to set.

To live your life the way I live mine would grant you more time in a single "day" than you would know what to do with in one month.

This being said, it's safe to assume that I'm referring to a disease I have known as insomnia

I am on medication for it, and when taken...the pills work like a dream. (no pun intended)

But while me body receives its rest, and my muscles are allowed to remain...my brain is slowly frying.

I can't remember anything.

Ask me how many times I was been hospitalized during my senior year of high school.

A few months ago, I could give you an exact number and even tell you the order...and the dates I was in inpatient and/or outpatient.

Ask me today, and I'll have no answer other than "too many times"

Not for lack of wanting to tell you, but because I haven't the foggiest idea anymore.

ANYMORE!

That's what gets me. The fact that I'm being treated for my illness, yet the damage it has done to me already cannot ever be reversed.

Your life has:

Days, nights...time passes in an orderly fashion for you.

My life has:

Events...in a world without days or dates, one can only measure in minutes or hours.

The medical definition of Insomnia is that you have an inability to sleep and that it can cause physical and mental complications.

My definition of Insomnia is: A state of living in perpetual twilight where memories are simply dreams that actually happened...though no less vague and confusing in how fuzzy they'll always be.

Tomorrow

A new day

A fresh start

Never looking back, I can see the sunrise

And I feel that nothing could go wrong

Another night

An old ghost

Always walking backwards, I can see the sunset

And I feel that nothing could go right

Another day is calling

A new night is waiting

Always with my eyes closed, I can feel the sunshine

Always with my heart open, I'm will face down my demons

And I know that while shit may happen, everything will be alright

And so—just as the bird shall sing each morning to welcome the rising sun, her eggs safe and sound or stolen by the serpent while she slept, her thoughts of the past used as lessons and those of the future used as guides—so shall I awake tomorrow

"If you always keep one foot in the past, and the other in the future, you'll end up shitting all over today."—Max of Unit 5 West

Rematch

You see Me and ask:
"Hey...where the hell are You going?"
I scream for mercy.
I beg you to stop.
You just smack Me around some more and tell Me to "Shut the fuck up."
You say I disappoint You.
Right before You drag me back to the front lines you say:
"If You're going to run away, at least have the sac to get past Me."

So now I'm waiting.
Doing My job.
Manning the heavy artillery and praying I still have one more shell.
Running across the No-Man's-Land and praying this isn't the last time I see the sky.
I pray a lot.
But I'm not praying just to live longer.
No.
I pray that I live long enough to see You punch out and head home.

When You punch out, I'll sneak up.
I'll show You I have the sac to get past You.
When You punch out, I'll punch You out.

You've had me under your thumb too long.
So here is My rebellion.

I can see you getting ready to leave for the night.
And when you do, I'll try to run away again.
But I will make it this time.
I'm gonna bring 150% and beat the shit out of You the way You did me.

You just walked out.
Time for My rematch.
Just I against Me against Myself.
I see you and ask:
"Hey...where the hell are You going?"

(Commiting) Social Suicide*

Fuck it all

In over my head?

You bet

I’m losing the game

The game I made up the rules to

And have been playing for years (literally)

Now I’m down 3-1

One of me

Three of them

The Ginger (who’s more than likely psycho)

The Smart One (who’s a bit too young)

The Newbie (who’s clearly baby-crazy)

Will you marry me?

I’ll never fuck again. Only make love…to you.

…

I love you

I love you

I love you

I’ve become the record

That I’ve played until…

Until it broke

The hypodermic needle skipping on grooves that are my skin

Back to those words

I love you

And you,

And you,

And you,

And you,

Oh and you too. I love(d) you all

It’s possible…

Isn’t it?

I’ve beaten myself

At a game I created myself

And then cheated at

3-1

Good odds?

A bettin’ man might take ’em

I’m bettin’ my rock bottom dollar

That the survival rate will be 0.

Maybe it’s true:

“Once a cheater, always a cheater.”

To tell them each of the other two

Would ensure my social suicide

The three females whom I “love”

Would all be heartbroken

Heartshattered

A much more fitting way to put it:

An irreversible cleave through the almighty love-muscle.

Tell?

Don’t tell?

Commit my social suicide?

Or put off, for now, signing my own Death Warrant?

That’s all it is

Putting it off until later…

When they find out

(and they will)

*shudder*

Would it be “better”

To let it out and pray?

Cheaters never win

Winners (the real, true winners that is)

Never cheat

Dammit…

Freshman year to present da:

Rose—I cheated

Abby—I cheated

Lauren—I cheated

Alix—I cheated

Lauren (again)—I cheated

Alana—I’m still cheating

Lauren (yet again)—I’m still cheating

Paula—Been cheating since day 1

See that up there?

There are probably more

I’m more than certain I’ve cheated on every single one of them, too

Shit…

Looking back,

With the exception of Abby,

I’ve only cheated on girls that I’ve…

Oh hell, I’ll say it!!!

I love them

I still love them

All of them

I cheat on the ones I legitimately love

If you hurt worst those closest,

I must be a pro

What the fuck am I doing in the minor leagues?

Send my cheatin’ ass to the Olympics

I’m world class material

But why?

Why do I choose to hurt them?

What kind of sadistic fuck needs to hurt?

Hurt not one,

Not two,

But three sweet girls simultaneously?

Three lovely young women who love me so much?

Dude…

Screw quitting while I’m ahead

I’m already drowning in the red

I’ve heard of in over your head, but

This takes it to a whole other

Universe

I realized a while back that I’m no longer

No longer writing a poem

No…

This is bigger

Heavier by far than any poem ever put into ink

At least by me…

This is my confession.

Damn me Father, for I love sinning.

Written as a stream of conscience

In a poetic manner of line/stanza breaks

Oh well

I suppose old habits die hard

Like this method of word presentation

And my cheating

In all honesty, I’ve really got nothing else

Nothing new for this work

At this point I’m just rambling

Fucking Adderall…

Put the pen down…do it. Now! NOW!!!

*a rant fueled by Adderall

I'm sorry

I'd never ask you to leave.

I'd never force you to stay.

But you'd have me do just that.

Choose to either throw you aside, or keep you.

You've had your blows and I'm sorry I was one of them.

I've had mine too, and I'm sorry I caused them.

But I love you dearly, and want to change that.

I would love you until I die.

I would open doors, pull out chairs, and be there for you even when you tell me not to.

I'd talk to you about anything and everything.

I'd listen to anything and everything you would tell me.

Even if you tell me not to.

I'd never ask you to leave.

I'd never force you to stay.

But you'd have me do just that.

Choose to throw you aside, or to keep you.

I'm keeping you.

Forever, if you'd let me.

Longer if I could.

I will die loving you.

I would kill for you to love me.

If I could take back everything I said and did I would.

In a heartbeat, I'd make it all go away.

In the next, I'd replace it all with anything and everything you could ever want.

You've heard it all before because it's all been said before at some point.

There's no original way to say you love someone anymore.

So this is my attempt at some discourse.

If you love me, I love you.

If you don't love me, I love you.

If you hate me, I love you.

If you leave me, I love you.

If you come to me, I love you.

If you kill me...

I'll love you forever.

Speaking in Tongues

You tell me what you want to hear.

I listen.

You tell me to say it.

I cannot obey.

How am I supposed to say anything, let alone the right things, when just the mere thought of you leaves me speechless and out of breath?

You ask if I’m alright.

I say yes, but nothing more.

My breathing is shaky, yet I claim there’s nothing wrong.

Because there is nothing wrong with the butterflies that take wing in my stomach and the shivers that fly up and down my spine when we touch.

I touch your face.

We kiss.

Out lips meet, and our mouths are one as our tongues caress, and all of a sudden it makes perfect sense to me.

I love, and am in love, with you.

Every time we kiss I pray that my lips against yours can speak, in those few seconds, the volumes of love that my heart beats through my body for you.

Every time our tongues connect I pray that, in that brief time, all I need to do to prove myself to you is to keep…