Strangled

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I’ve been trying.. for a  long time…

To be happy.

Playing with these words like they will change something.

Playing with my heart like it means something.

What else can I do?

 

I’m strangled in the days.

Shadows are a comfort. No one is looking.

Time is weighing me down.

Hope is a burden when you seem to be the only one…

 

Fighting against myself.

Against my own instincts.

Trust…

I must not trust myself.

Is there good reason?

 

We are going to the Ocean…

I think I want it to cleanse me. I deserve to be cleansed, to be renewed. It has been too long.

 

I have a fond memory of the ocean.. There is only one memory, many in one…

The lapping of the waves.. my tongue

The soothing breeze… breath on your thighs

The rocky walls we walked upon.. a divide between right and wrong.. between past and present.. Between where we are and were and would never be again.  You trusted me… I don’t trust myself.

Perhaps for good reason.

I tire so easily now. I’m doing more cardio…

My moods are less extreme

I miss them.

I want to break out.. through.. go beyond and let loose.

Why is drinking, sex and  drugs the fall back.. why is that rock n roll?

 

Where is the excitement?

 

Is that life?

No.. we say it’s in every moment.

But I’m dreading my moments lately..

I hear a thousand voices of advice.. I see a million words of holy books and prayers rattled in the wind. Wisdom knows that is truth but so is now.. and here .. and what I feel and what prattles in my mind amongst itself. I know the words you have in response and I don’t want to hear them!!!

I don’t want to hear the same thing over and over… doesn’t anyone understand .. nothing is more maddening then repetition… repetition… repetition…

I need something new!! Always this desire and the frustration of the realization that this will happen again..

I can’t explain it..

I fail to convey the hopelessness.

I could color a picture

but that is old

 and does not truly hold the truth of the emotions.

I could sing.. but I don’t sing and that alone makes me cry.

I don’t even know why I’m here, writing this.

To what gain? There is no beauty in it. This exasperating exhaling of existentialism … it to is not new under the sun.

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15 thoughts on “Strangled”

  1. …vanity if vanities, all is vanity…and this dark mood, this storm of gloom & doom, it too will pass…happiness is not a goal but the by product of having objectives…saddness & happiness are chiral twins, neither exists absent the other…wallow in the slough of despond, enjoy mud-weestling with the dragon in your dungeon, until one of you surrenders to the other…eventually the dragon teaches us to stop chasing chimeras & enjoy the wilderness that is painted in all the shades of love as life so life is loving all things! ^^~~~~~

  2. Every time I find you in my reader I feel like I know you. Your poems always speak to me, and today you speak for my broken heart too. Wonderful piece Mr.Jones.

  3. I love the way you stay with the feeling you are feeling … that is what makes you a spectacular writer: your incredible focus and honesty

    please keep writing …. it so beautifully human , it makes everything ok …

    hb

  4. You are not strangled alone. Sometimes we are strangled too of the the same events repeating themselves each day every days and the thought of it kills . Isn’t that’s what life is supposed to be? To find hope in the worst situation?!

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