In the dark of night, I lie alone
With naught even to call my own
In a borrowed shelter, under rented roof
I linger alone, all the world aloof
The joys of the day; the terrors of night
I face without friend, solitaire in fight
“No one deserves a full minute of your time unless they
Reciprocate attention”, which stands the assay
Of not just a minute, or an hour, or fortnight
Of relationship strains, and that without flight
There’s no one who qualifies, few who would care
What happens, or why, to this existence I bear
I’ve lived like this long, longer than most would conceive
I’m so good at hiding, that no one believes
The emotions I sample, with poly-urnal rate
A status I’ve accepted, as simplistic fate
Many I thought friends proved false in the wake
Of accusations ugly, and lies from a snake
They stopped taking calls, stopped answering texts
Refused at all, in any way to connect
So here I lie, with naught of my own
None to call comrade, by no one known.
Maybe more to come, I don’t know.
Fair Lady of the Night
Antidote to Depression
For years, I was tired. I’ve always had an irregular sleep cycle. I’ve always struggled with insomnia. So any time someone asked how I was, I was tired. Well, one day I tried an experiment. Anytime someone asked how I was, I said I was great. No. I came up with phrases. I wasn’t great, was absolutely awesome. Freakishly fantastic. Utterly unctuous. Magnificently marvelous. At first it felt hypocritical. Within two days, it was genuine. I actually felt AWESOME. I wasn’t tired. I was getting the same sleep. I had the same job. I drove the same car. I wore the same clothes. Nothing changed but my attitude. And I CONSCIOUSLY CHOSE TO CHANGE IT. I took CONTROL over my outlook. By the end of two weeks it was a standard joke at work. “How are you Robbie? Nevermind, I know, you’re fantastic”. So I played along with the joke. “Nope, not today. Today I’m absolutely amazing”. Within three weeks, I realized that I had largely settled on one of my phrases, and even forgotten most of the others. Worse, I was reciting it, not relishing it. In other words, I was back to being “fine”, or “ok”, or “good”, or “tired”. Sure, I was still saying fantastic. But it had become just another answer. So then I made it a point to try to use a different descriptor with each time someone asked, and when possible, not to use the same descriptor to the same person twice in a week. The difference was immediate. I felt better. I felt invigorated. I felt… Absolutely awesome.
Your birthday came again today
I though to give you a call
I scrolled through my phone to find you name
But it wasn’t there at all.
Then I remembered someone else has your number
That I learned when I called it last year
To wish you a blessing on the day of your birth
But wishes can’t help you, however sincere
You’re gone from this realm, fates pulled us apart
I know that life can be hard
But why did you choose to leave me behind?
Didn’t you think how those you left would be scarred?
I miss you so often, but I rarely express
To anyone how I feel since you left
To painful to share, to much risk of regret
Much lessor things have relationships cleft
I feel like a part of me died with you,
The rope that you used is suffocating me too.
How can I hold on, knowing you let go?
Each day that goes by, I miss you anew.
As your life was cut short, by fate and your choice
So too this poem shall no more have its voice
Ask me how I am, I’ll tell you I’m fine
I’ll smile, I’ll laugh, we’ll have a good time
Tell jokes, and stories, you’ll never see
The pain, or the darkness that envelops me
I’ve had lots of practice at hiding what’s inside
It’s almost like a part of me totally died
Maybe because when I was only four years
Is the first I remember being spanked for my tears.
Men shouldn’t cry, is what I was told
No more being babied, for that you’re too old
The tears were because my cheek was missing a dime of its skin;
Another half dollar was gone from my chin
From that time on, the tears didn’t come
No matter what happened, I’d always keep mum
Despite all the torment I went through at school
No matter who teased me, no matter how cruel
The horrors at home, no more could invoke
Any outward expression nothing ever of my turmoil spoke
I was labeled “hard”, “rebellious”, and “wicked”
I was just trying to survive, all that life had inflicted
My granfather died when I was six months past seven
It was just before christmas, when he gave in to depression
I remeber my sisters, all crying out loud;
Not a tear did I shed, not then and not now
I couldn’t; I didn’t know how, I’d forgotten, you see
By conditining it had been completely driven from me
I miss him still, not a day since has been
Devoid of thoughts, and of memories of him.
I’ve kind of meandered about things long ago
But perhaps it’s the present, about which you should know
I still hide a lot, more than any one can tell
I “internalize” the pain, act like everything’s swell
I claim your opinion means nothing to me,
I laugh at your insults, I hide completely
My longing for acceptance, for welcome, for friends
My fear of weakness, those desires transcends
I don’t make a choice not to show how I feel
My emotions are trapped in a cage made of steel
I don’t have the key, I don’t know how to show
The stuff that’s inside, things that you’ll never know.
There are days when all that I want is to die
I’m just tired of living this perpetual lie
So think, when another you are about to attack
Even in jest, words can someone’s heart wrack
I don’t ask you to pity, or even understand
I don’t need anyone to come hold my hand
Just let my story make you stop, and inspect
Your motives, for why some one you reject
Think of the pain you might never see
Pain they CAN’T show, from which they’ll never be free
Don’t tell them “Jesus will heal if you believe”
That feels like you mean that they are decieved.
Because if Jesus will heal those who believe
Then we who have this pain, we must be decieved
Because I thought I trusted, I thought I was saved
But the pain was still there, the barriers unscathed
So your promise of “fixes” is actually just
A subtle attack, as you judge how much I trust
I guess I’m not “christian enough” to have earned this “cure”
What? I need to fast? pray? go to church more?
I have little doubt that you never have gone
As long without food as what I have done
In my search for answers, in my quest for release
I’ve fasted, I’ve prayed, I’ve BEGGED God for peace
Some christians have cancer, and some hepatitis
Some have diabetes, and some arthritis
Yet you don’t tell them “Jesus will heal”
I guess those diseases aren’t sin? I guess mine isn’t real?
I don’t have physical symptoms, so it’s “all in my head”
The days when I can’t seem to get out of bed
When everything’s dark, when I want to just hide
But I still smile, and laugh, never show what’s inside.
I’ll be here for you, that’s what she said
Those words reverberate in my head
I looked for her just minutes ago
The answer to a question, I thought she would know
“This page is missing” the website replied
“This user’s profile cannot be supplied”
So much for her promises – I should have known
I’m wishing now she would have left me alone
Then my desire for friendship would never have grown
And sitting here now, I wouldn’t feel so alone
They same I blame others, for my own lack
But who should I blame for this knife in my back?
Friendship is transient, this I have learned
The only question is “How long ’til I get burned?”
But I know this person, and I can’t believe
That she would choose, willingly, me to deceive
So how then to explain, what happened today?
Is she being controlled? under someone else’s sway?
It matters not, though now I must choose,
In spite of her actions, will I my character lose?
The answer is no, for then I am to blame,
Regardless of others, only my actions can bring me to shame.
“It’s ok, but I don’t know what to say.
Don’t hurt yourself, Robbie.” That’s the message she sent the other day
“Letting it out, doesn’t have to leave a scar”
Her next message to me, not knowing I’m fubar
The scar is there, it just can’t be seen
Until I trace it in skin, with a knife edge so keen