Queries And Vents Of A Poet

Conflicting Disires

Conflicting desires, 
To grow and change,
Spite the desire to stay stuck. 
Stuck a child, a child without the weight of the world. 
A child in constant panic, 
That I ...am half a person, 
That I am less. 
I watch the world, 
My worlds, my people 
My family, BECOME angry. 
Value. 
Value 
I need it, 
I crave it. 
I have it drilled into me. 
Knifed  into me are painful words, that become angonishing fears
It does not push me to be better. 
It makes me… stuck. 
Because. 
If I was not smart, 
If I could not do it, 
I stick out, 
It seems..that ANY praise I get comes from that, 
It is painful. 
Consumed by the need to be seen
I devour my own mind by the monster. 
The part of me, i dare not recognize  as myself.  
To space out from the angry world. 
Because I dare not be angry myself. 
The frailties of my body demands I be careful. 
Be in control, 
Lash out back at myself. 
Come in. 
The wave of panic approaches,
I am not prepared. 
If not intense 
It is like I feel nothing 
But the craving to feel again, 
And a little…. Sad. 
Tried and blank I seek a person 
Who would write on the blank slate of heart. 
So loud. 
So loud 
So loud 
So loud 
So loud. 
I must guide,
I have values,  
Of my own. 
I want to be more than desirable.
Everything gets loud.
People sound loud, booming, yelling. 
But they aren't. 
Distracting 
Distracting 
Distracting 
Even the click of a pen. 
Can sound. 
Loud, yelling out. 
I must drown it out. 
\with more noise. 
Noise IN  MY CONTROL. 
I MUST bite my lip. 
And devour my tounage 
So that I harm no one. 
The way that anger has harmed me. 
I want to be good. 
I can't scream. 
Screaming and yelling. 
It makes me feel useless.
It makes me feel like I am broken, 
Like I must break my broken down more and more. 
My complacency is at the cost of what little personhood I feel I have left. 
In the moment, 
In this moment. 
My heart hurts.
My breathing is off, 
That's why it hurts.
I breath harder. 
I try to stop. 
I try to stop caring. 
I try to stop. 
But it stops when it stops. 
I have no control.
I am going to be sick. 
My stomach has twisted. 
I expect to throw up, 
But 
I must hide. 
"CRYING FIXES NOTHING’’
‘’IF I DIDN'T.
 REALLY
TRY I DIDN'T REALLY FAIL’’
It isn't TRUE failure.
Not yet. 
It hurts more 
To be judged 
For the heart in your work. 
To find comfort in small toys, 
Is shameful. 
But I cannot help it. 
I must leave, 
The small dino, 
When I move into the adult world. 
I must kill that small bit of childish hope, 
That people, 
Bad people. 
Can change. 
However, 
I want to give. 
LITTLE dried up hearts, 
Hugs.
Comfort 
And.. 
I want to see the best, 
Even 
If I cannot see. 
The good of myself. 
I want to be helpful. 
I will take as many punches as I need to. 
For no matter how much of me is empty, 
Just one spot. 
Has color.