By Your Own Hand

hangintiger

Death becomes dishonor, when done by your own hands

Loved ones on their knees with a sponge where the blood lands

There must be some solution to the issues that you face

the speed in which you face them, must be at your own pace

 

Sometimes the answers can seem as plain as day

Instead of moving forward, just simply go away

Easy isn’t always better, and it’s not always right

You’ll never be completely out of mind or out of sight

 

The alternative to death may seem so far from reach

Never taught how to cope in the lessons that they teach

But rest assured your follow-through will not fall on deaf ears

All the things left on your plate will go into arrears

 

Someone will have to face them, though it may not be you

The ones parked in your corner, will have to see them through

Energy doesn’t die, and pain doesn’t go away

It latches onto someone else, for another day

 

So if your having thoughts, of eloping with the dark

Try to look inside, for the smallest little spark

The days they will get better, the future has a plan

Hang on one more day, I promise that you can

 

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See you when I see you

walkaway

You will always be a part of me, through thick and thin you’ve stalked my mind and dragged me down to the point of nearly drowning.  The time has come my old friend, for me to leave you once again.  I’m sick of the weight, I’m sick of the constant drag on the line I can never reel in.  Time for me to go.

I know you will catch up with me, and I know that I will recognize your presence, but I can’t let you control me.  It’s time for me to break free from your grasp, and push forward in spite of the daggers you have plunged into my back.  I am not afraid of you, and I am the one who will choose my own destiny.

The next chapter is mine, and it will be written according to my will, not yours.  I will not lay down and let you suffocate me, I will not give up and let you squeeze the air from my lungs.  It’s time we part ways, and though I would love to cast you off into oblivion, I will settle for a head start.

Your grip is weak, and I am getting the fuck out of here, catch me of you can.  I feel like a toddler running away from it’s parents, I know I will get caught, but I’ll be damned if I’m not going to enjoy the small amount of freedom I can get by taking off.  Eat my dust. See you on the flip side.

I know what happens when I am apprehended, we both know.  You can’t do any worse than you already have, and I am not afraid.  They call you depression, and I call you a bitch.  You aren’t going to control me, and you are lazy and out of shape from sitting around for so long.  I can outrun you, and I will.    See you when I see you.

 

Spring Fever

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The days are getting longer, but I’m still stranded in my bed

Birds are chirping loudly, drowned out by the noises in my head

I should be up and at ’em, should be on the move

But I’m still in my rut, instead of in my groove

 

I catch a fading glimpse of motivation here and there

So badly want to feel, so dearly want to care

The medication’s helping, but no such thing as a fix

Throw it all at the wall, just hope that something sticks

 

The days are getting warmer, though often soaked with rain

I know I need to push myself, constant  yelling at my brain

Spin myself off the couch, place both feet on the ground

One foot and then the other, walk towards the sound

 

I’m sick of being down and out, sick of wishing things were new

Tired of that helpless feeling, so many things to do

I know talk is cheap, and I know action’s up to me

I know spring is in the air, and I need to be awake to see

 

Tiny steps today, towards the proper track

More than just out of bed, or to the store and back

Today I push myself, a little harder than before

There is a beautiful spring day, out there to explore

A million moments

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How many moments have I let slip away

How many during the course of today?

A moment can be so quick to dismiss

Be it a moment of misery or moment of bliss

 

How quickly the present turns into the past

Each moment is fleeting. and never will last

Today at the party we’re the popular hosts

Tomorrow we’re ashes, spirits and ghosts

 

One moment we’re matter, solid and real

The next we’re a specter, with no life to steal

It’s tragic and beautiful, each passing day

But so many moments are just thrown away

 

I’m no one to judge, I’ve wasted a lot

How many more moments have I really got?

It’s time to get up, up onto my feet

Out of the shadows, no longer discreet

 

If I never remind me that I need to stay strong

The moments I have, will not be so long

Sometimes a reminder, has to be spoken

If you lose all your hope, you will end up broken

Life

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Whenever money talks, bill collectors listen

Whenever rain pours down, sidewalks seem to glisten

When a break is caught, a prisoner’s released

When a baby’s born, another man’s deceased

 

Life moves along, like a daily enigma

Life carries on, and we all share the stigma

Humanity destroys the people

Burns the church, brings down the steeple

 

What can we do but a day at a time?

What can we do but narcotics and crime?

How can we live if not for the present?

How do we survive when life is not pleasant?

 

There’s always a way, we must find our own

Just look back at the past, and the distance we’ve grown

So many things have made us much stronger

Killing us just a little, but life lasts a little longer

 

So here we go, one more day

Work to do, bills to pay

Tomorrow is what today will be

Monotony will be the death of me

Get up

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You’ve fallen and you’re broken

No words need be spoken

You can’t lay there forever

The damaged are the clever

 

You’ve been through worse before

Demons at the door

The one’s you loved may now be ghosts

Memories or parasite hosts

 

Whatever ails your tortured mind

Is no enough that you should find

A reason to give up, lay face down on the floor

Validating you to quit, living life no more

 

It’s time to get up now, stand on your feet

You may be injured, but you are not beat

Pain is relative, you will be alright

The bell hasn’t rang, you’re still in the fight

 

No time  like the present to get out of your head

But your feet on the ground, pull your ass out of bed

One foot then the other, forward we cruise

One more try, one more day, there is nothing to lose

 

 

 

Go away, but never leave

anxiety

Anxiety; The way you embrace my internal organs is familiar, the way you point out all my shortcomings as loud as you can is not new.  These words of yours echo in the depths of my mind, bouncing around my skull doing their best to make me a believer.  This gives me something to fight, something to help me push forward.

I can’t stand the way you make me feel like everything is collapsing, like all the walls are falling on my head, brick by brick.  I hate the fire you place in my chest, speeding my heart rate and causing me to feel like every action needs to be completed this very second or you will haunt me forever.

I hate the fact that you can occupy my thoughts to the point where everything else gets placed on the back burner.  It pains me to think of how much control you have over my entire being.  You embrace me like the wind, you can be felt but not moved, you can change everything, but you are invisible.  I want you to go away.

So why is it that when you are not around I tend to stagnate?  Why does it feel like my drive to complete even the most mundane task slips into oblivion?  Why do I want to sleep seventeen hours a day and hide from the world without your presence?  How does this make any sense?

When you are here, I want nothing more than for you to leave me alone.  When I am alone, I desperately want something to help push me forward, towards my dreams.  Is it possible that you do this?  Like a vindictive teacher who seems so mean, but has my best interest in mind?  I guess it doesn’t really matter if i want you around or not, because I’m not equipped with the ability to get rid of you on my own.

Go away, but never leave.  I need a push sometimes, but I can’t stand it.

Curmudgeon

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Looking back to days of youth, time seemed to be abundant

When exactly did it shift to  repetitive and redundant?

It becomes so easy to allow the days to blend together

Like living out the same old day, every day forever

 

Then I need to ask myself, am I getting old and jaded?

So many things yet still to do, but ambition seems so faded

Some days it can be a challenge just to get up out of bed

Heavy legs, heavy heart, but mostly heavy in the head

 

My priorities are still the same, express and try to reach

But a steady fog runs through my mind, and I forget what to teach

The methods of the world still feel like queen destroying pawn

I just want the neighbor kids to stay the hell off of my lawn

 

Over time things tend to change, others stay the same

We are just involuntary players, in this involuntary game

I don’t believe I’m jaded, from the things I’ve seen

I’ve felt like a Curmudgeon since I was only fifteen

 

Hindsight moves at the speed of light, quicker than a flash

Immediate came and went’s for partners, drugs, and cash

Yet somehow regrets do not move at quite the same pace

They tend to linger slowly, tend to smack you in the face

 

I do not like to spend much time, thinking of what could have been

Try not to waste my thoughts on shame of past  or acts of sin

I’d rather prep for days ahead, completing something more today

May as well forage ahead, I have nothing else to do, and we all die anyway.

 

 

Galatians 4:16

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Truth can be a relative term, we all have our own variations of reality.  There is the reality that we all live in, but it can be seen from so many different perspectives that one can’t help but wonder which one is real.  We all believe our version of reality is the one that is the absolute truth, but again, this term is relative.

My truth, is that there is something out there, but it has no label, requires no worship, and has no back story.  My truth, is that many people feel like it needs to make sense if they are going to believe in it.  That there has to be a rational explanation regarding origin, and end game,  for the sake of social acceptance.

There is safety in numbers, and when someone observes the majority of a population flocking to one belief, it must be accurate.  Maybe their truth encourages that train of thought.  Some peoples truths’ tell them that if they believe a story that many others also feel is true, they won’t be ridiculed.  “You believe what?”

My truth indicates that if these people are using this to live a better life, more power to them.  My truth tells me to believe what I feel, which helps me get through each day, and to allow others to do the same.  My truth makes me question how people who live for their beliefs can do such horrendous things to each other for no valid reason.

My truth says that some people will use your vulnerability and exploit it.  My truth says that people will be taken advantage of, manipulated out of their money, given false hope, and essentially brutalized by some people with a snake-oil salesman approach, with zero morals and endless pockets that can never be filled to the top.

The idea of guidance, the idea of something greater than ourselves exists wholeheartedly in my truth, but it doesn’t require any money.  I have never been able to label, or properly identify my own truth, but with that, I have never given it a dime, but yet it doesn’t give up on me.  What kind of truth requires membership fees?  “I will show you salvation, but you must give me a weekly donation.”

The idea is sound, the concept is there, but who’s truth are you believing? Faith is a feeling, not a religion.  Faith is a belief, not an expense.  Faith will get you through the day, faith will help you deal with humanity’s challenges.  Faith wants nothing in return but faith.   No money, no commitments, no worship.  Faith has humility, and it guides us for our own evolution, and not for profit.

Want to start a war?  Tell another religion that “My invisible friend could beat up your invisible friend. ”  and watch the blood fill the streets.  My truth does not want power and control.  My truth does nothing more than guide me every day, with nothing in return except my trust.  I trust my own truth, even if it has no rational explanation.

 

 

Time Stands Still

time

Every now and again, the world slows down, and if you pay attention you can see things that are not evident to everyone.  Details often overlooked, remnants of a history forgotten, not bearing enough relevance to have been recorded on paper. Once we get through this moment, we become memory, ghosts, a simple recollection of ourselves.

Time will always move forward, each new moment will be left behind in tragedy, reduced to ashes in time and distant memories.  If you look, these memories can be seen, and these moments can be re-visited.   Everything leaves clues behind, ashes, resin, dust, bone, or sometimes something more.

Slowing ourselves down is the only way that we can see these mystic elements, these things frozen in time, these small specs of phantom memory. Racing minds and anxious thoughts tend to drown out the details, we can pass many a spirit and be none the wiser.  It is not until the world slides into slow motion that seemingly insignificant details bleed into the meaning of existence.

Everything has it’s own story, it’s own history, it’s own ghost stories and tragedy’s.  It is easy to get caught up in the acceleration of the world and miss the beauty of our own ghosts of history. Sometimes we need to slow down and enjoy the stillness of silence, and the beauty that hides in the phantom world we are always too busy to see.