Scarred and Beautiful

Have you ever taken a moment to sit down and count your scars? See how many you've piled up and begin to rival the stars. Some scars are psychical and obvious while the rest hid underneath as others are oblivious. Not knowing the scars that are hidden down deep inside where most of us would rather let them hide. Because the pain of the scars is often unbearable, but the thought of letting someone else see them isn't comparable. They are like cracks in the foundation, any slight disturbance to these vulnerable spots is chancing devastation. So we cover them with temporary fixes and patches hoping that can prevent anything from that attaches, attaches to the old cuts and bruises getting some sort of satisfaction out of others unfortunate abuses. Whether done by ones own self or another we all have an aggressor, maybe they are big or small but there's always an identifiable transgressor. They might be one or more, and for those with more I truly mourn, because I know the pain of a soul that's poor. A soul that's beaten and battered, one that's been exposed to show off all of it's tatters. A soul that is most likely better off dead, or at least so say the demons in his head. Life is so complicated and impolite that when things get tough, people wonder why even put up a fight? Some call it quits and leave the show early, but others just trudge through life miserable and surly. It's hard for the people who give all of themselves up to another just to watch no one else really give a bother. It's like a person who begs for change only to give it away, while others claim hatred for him every day. The hatred may not be implicit or even said, but it lingers in the thoughts lingering in their head. I've been called immature and naive simply because of the simple truths I believe. Such as: money doesn't matter in reality and that hakuna matata does work in actuality. Everybody thinks that if they can change you they are helping the world along, but really they are just trying to amass followers to prove others wrong. People spend so much time building their fortress of solitude and accruing their negative attitude, hiding behind money and possessions because that's how they prove they won something then. Now I won't lie. I enjoy these things too, but they don't consume what I do. I have to many scars and flaws to care about myself at this point the only real hope I have is trying not to disappoint. I've accepted my fate as a broken and shallow mess and my sins I've a thousand times over confessed. Yet I still feel broken and distorted because others still feel like I could be more contorted, more twisted and rearranged to fit their vision of life that's supposed to work the same for me. A soul is a soul that belongs to one life, trying to force it into another will only cause turmoil and strife. Your life may be broken, tattered. beaten, scarred, and ruined like mine, but also remember that your life is beautiful, amazing, wonderous, and so unexplored that you must allow yourself time. Time to understand that it may not be bright now, but it will be later. Time to understand that life is not easy for the brave and strong nor for the more fainter. Life is a beautiful mess that we've helped to create, but no matter how bad it gets it is always yours to dictate.

Words Unsaid

I know I've said this before, but let me say it again
I often find myself trapped in a world of pretend
Avoiding the realities of what we call life
And trying to forget the tragedy of death that causes strife
Because even after years have passed I cannot distance myself
From the sinking feeling that for some reason I could have helped
Like somehow if I had been right next to that person I could have stopped the pain
It's this sick little fantasy that I have stuck in my brain
Maybe if I was stronger they'd be alive and people wouldn't ever leave my side
I try so hard to prove myself as a mature adult despite acting like a child
Because people are always saying I'm at fault no matter what's transpired
"You should've done this, you could've done that" Is that really where were at?
You say I'm adult and have to be conscious but you treat me like a kid
There has been something wrong in anything I ever did.
It's things like this that test my sanity and fortitude
And push me to thoughts of suicide so I could maybe get some solitude
I know it's not fair to others to end it all so suddenly
But then shouldn't it also be fair to let me be me?
It just feels like I've let you down by making these "adult" decisions
Because they aren't what you expected even if I made them with precision
You think I do things carelessly or recklessly with no care
I do think things over, but I prefer to live now is that so rare?
I have plans for the future and idea of how to get there
But the thing is what if I don't ever leave here?
I know the things I do and say aren't widely supported
But the dangers are far from what's been reported.
Just for once realize that this is my life to live
As for your opinions? I don't have one fuck to give.

Compatible

      Most people live life in a fairly normal, but mundane sort of way. We all have our trials and triumphs, highs and lows, demons lurking within. So on and so forth. For most people hiding the struggles is pretty old hat, we cover ourselves with make-up and false grins to hide the beasts inside of us all. This, however, was not the case for Mark who had a harder time at creating a facade. Through Mark's eyes, everybody including himself looked like the demons they tried so hard to hide. While everyone one else walked around normally observing the world, Mark was faced with reality. Most would think it would be easier to be able to see people's faults, you would know instantly who's being truthful and who you should avoid, but it only made Mark more jaded. We are allowed to hide ourselves and thus grant us the chance to ignore the fact that something is wrong when we are with others. For Mark, these faults were shoved in his face with no hopes of avoiding them. The only interesting part for Mark was observing these demon couples. Each person's demon was unique in almost every way except they all had tails with a sort of misshapen knob on the end for compatibility. We are supposed to "hook up" with people who are compatible and Mark could clearly see when people aren't. He could see the pained looks on their faces even if we couldn't see it in our world. While for most this was just emotional pain it was more for Mark because in his world it was not only emotional but physical. As such, Mark secluded himself from others scared of being hurt again because unlike the thousands of other "grin-and-bear-it"-ers he couldn't. In his own mind he was constantly writhing in pain and in our world it manifested itself in much the same way and most people are only willing to put up with that sort of sight for only so long.
      Mark works in the city office as a clerk which was a fairly easy job, but it didn't help his condition much. He had to interact with people regularly and these people, by Mark's standards. were monsters. There was some morbid satisfaction in the game of "guess how many horns the next one will have", but even that gets boring somehow. It's not a glamorous life, but there's not much more he could do even if he wanted to. He got up, went to work, and went home. He had no other hobbies or interests that he could explore. Well, at least he didn't have any of those things left. Most of the passion left Mark when he became afflicted. The most frustrating part is not knowing why this was happening. It wasn't a gypsy or witch curse and to the best of his knowledge Mark had never stolen any ancient artifacts. The closest explanation he's ever had is a loose connection to his break-up with the most recent ex Erica. A woman he had proposed to on the same night he found out she was cheating on him. Maybe that was the reason because it is close to the beginning of his current state, but it seems to cliche to really be the cause and it was years ago. He still occasionally saw her, in her new form that is, and always felt that tinge of what could have been in his heart.
      Sure, it maybe stupid for Mark to cling to a hope that is pretty much hopeless but that's part of human nature. We are so desperate to find someone that will match up with them. People love to know that their tails are compatible, unfortunately Mark didn't have his special sight with Erica so he never quite new. There have been a few dates since her, but Mark always knew right away that they didn't match up. They stayed together maybe for a few weeks, but it was like trying to force pieces from different puzzles together. And that's where our story is at. Mark trying desperately to make sense of things that will never make sense. And the rest of the world moves along trying to ignore the fact that something may be wrong. The story picks back up with Mark at work as most dull stories begin.
      "Oh hey, Mark. Do you ever get a break?" the woman entered the county office. The woman was Erica and as she appeared to Mark, her fur was quite nice today. A lot better looking than the freaky ones with scales for sure.
      "I guess not." He gave a half-hearted laugh and smile that came off as patronizing, but no one who came in cared enough to be offended.
      "I uh, I just came in to get a marriage license." She nervously avoided the sentence, her tail flicking back and forth.
      "Oh? I didn't even know you were engaged." He tried to hide the resentment with surprise as he shuffled through drawers.
      "Yeah..." she looked down, grinding her feet against the ground like a child being scolded. "We've been together for a few months now."
      "And you're sure this time?" The poison in his words were a bit harder to hide this time.
      "S...sort of. I don't Mark, but I'm 28 I should've been married years ago." She sounded like she was pleading with him.
       "Maybe." He sighed a bit sliding her the papers.
       "Anyways, I...um well it would mean a lot if you showed up Mark. I do wish we could be friends."
       "I'll think about it..." he stared at her blankly, trying to even remember the face that he loved with such a burning hatred.
       When she left, Mark just slumped against the counter. It had been years since he'd seen a human face other than his, so recalling Erica's was virtually impossible. The only thing he could pull out where vague shapes and colors, but nothing definite. He couldn't even remember his family's faces, it was all just blurs. A few days passed before Mark actually received an official address, which after some investigating Mark discovered she got from a mutual friend because Mark never gave it to her. A few more days passed before he reluctantly RSVP'ed with a 'yes' only so he could see if these two actually matched. So, Mark spent the time leading up to the wedding preparing himself. He tried to find old photos of them or at least Erica, just to have a point of reference for the fake compliments he would have to toss her way. However, he had burned them all in one of those drunken fits that usually follow terrible break ups.
      Before he knew it, it was her wedding day and he was getting dressed in his suit and tie. The wedding looked as traditional as could be and was packed full of people that Mark most likely couldn't have identified even if they were human. He smiled a bit seeing the mix of couples, some married with fitting pieces, some just the opposite. Eventually, he took his seat and the ceremony began. As far as a monster couple goes they seemed to compliment each other physically, but that's not what was important. The ever crucial moment when their parts matched up, or at least tried to, was what Mark waited for. But when he got his wish, the disappointment set in as unfortunately for Mark they were a match. So, he politely excused himself and left without her notice. It was bad enough he knew for sure he was wrong so there was no sense in sitting through both of them confess it over and over again.
      The only problem was that wasn't the whole story, but Mark left never knowing the full truth...at least not yet. Erica was planning to apologize to him for everything. One that night, she was fully prepared to say yes and marry him. She felt the same way he felt about her and she felt they would've had a perfect marriage. But like everybody, she had a moment of weakness and doubt. Maybe it was her subconscious desire to have one last partner before she married or maybe it was something else, but it happened and that changed everything. When they broke up both Erica and Mark were devastated, but Erica eventually moved on with her life and as a result her tail end changed which Mark could have never seen. Mark held onto the hurt though and always feared it. So, maybe Erica did cause his affliction in some way. If Mark could know that they were destined for each other from the start the fear would be gone right? That's not how love works and Mark never learned that. Sometimes two people will just never match up, but what he didn't know about those that did had molded to each other. Love wasn't about getting it right right away, but about learning and changing with that person and bonding. It wasn't as simple as putting puzzles together, it was more like bonding metals. He could never fully look past the monstrous hides that he was stuck in this loop. So, while we ignore the bad and try to focus on the good Mark was stuck in an opposite reality.

Finale.

I'll admit when I was younger I was a lot more arrogant and I had no idea what the full scope of God meant. So for awhile there I guess I qualified as what we'd call an atheist. I won't go into all of the details, just the gist. I was selfish and prideful and of others I wasn't very mindful. It sounds arrogant to say, but I was too smart and just got in my own way. I was still kind of awkward and nerdy, but I learned how to hide it and settled down into mild popularity. Not nearly the coolest guy in school, and I didn't look all that great at the pool, that's a body issue joke if you don't get it, don't worry I just thought I should fill you in a bit. I had a small group of friends like I always did and behind this cocky bravado I hid. Anything you see today is a shell meant to keep up appearances but back then it was a lot of who I really was. This undeservedly self-centered narcissistic mess of a man, the type of person you never want to be again. It didn't take much get me back on track, just one good reality check. In the middle of pompous act and inflated head I received a call telling me my grandpa was dead. Needless to say, I sunk pretty quick in an almost violent way. I went from laugh and smiles, to travelling hundreds of miles. A few hundred miles in a somber airplane stuck in a melancholy that didn't wane. It's hard to explain my feelings at that time, maybe because at that time I had absolutely zero thoughts running through my mind. Fast forward a few weeks ahead, when the funeral was over and I regretfully accepted the fact he was dead. Most people in times of crisis throw their hands up in the air and ask "God how could you do this?" I was too numb to ask why and the answer I probably couldn't comprehend, but as I've learned now his plans work out in the end. I started attending more Christian events, but never really listened to the message. It still seemed so artificial and I never thought I'd have that moment where you feel breathless. I don't remember the date, but I remember the sensation, knees shaking so hard with trepidation. I didn't understand what was going on, but for some reason the trembling felt everything but wrong. I broke down on the spot, flooded by the images of who I'd been and the messages from my grandpa I'd forgot. I recommitted then and several times afterwards because I always felt I'd come up short and could never apologize with words. I felt compelled to continually recommit until something in my mind would finally stick. It's starting to stick now and I thank you all for your patience, this ride has been intense. The most exciting part is that it's not done yet, God has even more in store I bet.

Uh...Yeah

I've kind of run out of things to say, but it was bound to happen writing every single day. All that typing can be tough on the brain, and constrain rhyming is such a pain. This is a lot harder than it looks really, I mean by now my rhymes are just silly. Words pulled randomly out of a thesaurus trying to find something that works with that and this. Seriously did you just read that last line? I'm pulling things out of thin air and I think I'm going out of my mind. Oh Lord, please help me I think I'm losing it. Can I please just take a break for a bit? No? Oh...Well I guess I have to keep going but it looks like my pace is dangerously slowing. Not quite sure I'm going to be able to keep up the writing, or at least keep up the quality seems to be satisfying. I don't know why, but I guess people like it. That's hard to imagine when I'm trying to get inspiration out of clouds in the sky. Maybe I can write something about a cute little bunny, oh would that just be so adorably funny? No, no that just won't do....Oh God what am I supposed to do? People think it's easy being a writer, just sit down and start typing, well you couldn't be wronger. Yes I know, wronger isn't a word, this isn't my first trip around the block or haven't you heard? Well I guess it'd be more of "haven't you seen?" anyways just scroll down and look at your computer or phone screen. I've been writing a lot lately, but the rhyming is getting a bit more crazy. So that was a long explanation you and I probably lost you back there so let's start over, I just wanted to justify saying wronger. And OK so we aren't starting over, more just getting back on point, but arguing over these semantics is really beside the point. Now I'm just rambling I think I lost the point I was trying to make, oh well there's nothing really at stake. Just know if you know a writer or poet they work harder than you think. Well, I think I'll just end here, this piece kind of stinks.

Smiling in Sadness

I was driving alone in my car, with the music up I looked at my arm and could visualize the scars. I've never gone so far as to actually draw blood, but I can see all the tally marks working against the good. They count up my mistakes and transgressions, continuing on without regression. Every lie I've told, every friend I've mislead are burned into my mind and will be till I'm old and dead. It's this that pushes me so close to the edge, suicide seems like the only way to escape the things in my own head. I've talked about these demons before, but I really don't think people know how close I am to knocking on that door. Maybe I've perfected that smile that tells everyone I'm just fine, maybe I've built up a big enough wall to finally hide behind. Or maybe people just don't care...I know saying that doesn't sound fair, but think about it from my position if you dare. Imagine watching friends talk about things without you, and there's nothing you can do. No one takes the time to know you, so you just hide it all away as if you some how knew. Somehow knew no one would dare get close to the kid who's constantly thinking in prose. Living a life built of different faces and facades, praying to God you remembered to put the right one on. Am I supposed to be witty with her or sarcastic with him? I'm never quite sure, never quite sure who I am supposed to be because I've never been able to fully define me. I wanted so desperately to fit in, I created multiple me's so which one's the real me? I don't know where to even begin. So the scars on my arm pile up fast because I constantly forget which role I'm cast. I think the main problem is that I've committed too much time to loving everyone else, which sounds nice but I've left none for myself. I'm a constant well of self-pity and hate and nothing that I ever do will be that great. I could win an Oscar or Pulitzer prize, but none of that ever give me the satisfaction of being fully satisfied. For me life isn't about money or accolades, with all this self-hate I could never even accept the praise. I simply want to live life a full and free, finally about to find out who is me. That'll never happen though, I harbor these thoughts of quiet suicide that never seem to go. I even display my feelings right out here in the open, somebody is surely there to help...at least that's what I'm hoping. Sometimes I do wonder how long with the pain linger if I was to up and go? Would anyone even let it show? In the grand scheme of things my life, and even yours, are so inconsequential we might as make our exit a show. Something to be remembered and felt, for better or worse, but these are all just thoughts of course. I'd never do anything, just have sobering thoughts once and awhile, but I'll be all right....just trust the smile.

Choices

Life is always full of choices and when it comes to decisions you can hear thousands of voices. All vying to be heard and considered, hoping that maybe for once their answer will be delivered. But sometimes it all comes down to you and there's nothing else another person can do. You are left alone to your own devices, and hopefully you can sift through all the vices. Sometimes it's about professional or business things, but I think more often than not it's about relational things. Do I really love this person or am I just in love with a romanticized version? You see this problem currently afflicts my world because I'm torn between the choice of two different girls. Do I pick the one I think is the one or do I break from routine and do something I've never done? It's quite a problem trying to decide, especially when there's nothing I can hide behind. One girl I've known for a few years and through it all, yeah we've shared some tears. Frustration always comes when you're together, but I always knew it gets better. It's hard to forget someone you loved so dearly, but some distance has let me see a bit more clearly. I do still love her, but maybe she's not right for me, then again maybe she is and just can't see. Then there's the other girl, who's a bit newer to me, but that;s just how things tend to be. Things seem more enticing when they are knew, but when it comes to my affections, if she only knew. You see this impasse comes because I'm the type of guy who has this crippling affliction of being too shy. I freeze with fear at the thought of making a move, because it seems like there's so much too lose. I know in reality it isn't true, but it still seems likes nothing feels right to do. If I chose one will I lose the other? Which is a stupid question because I doubt they even know each other. Yet despite all of these things I've said, instead of asking I'd rather just be dead. That's how deep this fear runs, when presented with two choices I can't even choose one. So, that's the spot I'm currently at, two girls I have clear affections for, but there's nothing I can do about that. It's easy for people just to say "man up and ask", but for a guy like me that's not such an easy task. I have a feeling these women already know who the are, but as for this thing it won't go far. Because no one ever got a date from writing some stupid poem, but at least it's now in the open.