joy, by Fuckindragons | poems, essays, and short stories in Poeticous

Fuckindragons

Fuckindragons

joy

joy should not equal

the lack of self-pain

that rare fleeting moment

you forget your own name..

I pray for it to all go away

a waste of timing, quite the shame

and I’m not really quite sure

if I could feel joy again

but you know, I’m always smiling.

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Chris Geran

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today I woke up

today I woke up just knew I was all wrong afternoon was over the shadows had grown long yesterday you asked me

1

don’t ever hope to forgive, to for… I’ve been stuck in your thoughts since the moment we met not what you want, nor what you ne… I course through your veins

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if I were to tear away strands of my heart pull away pieces and rip it apart.. would you still call me lovely?

1

you know what I say—funkit killem kill a man jah’ro be at the top tomorrow you gotta know your body

baby come to bed it’s cold, and I can’t find a spar… baby where’s your head?

this little girl, grown too cold no drive to divert, no hand to fol… in showing who’s growing up, misery unfolds unknowing, ongoing

however hard you fight it

she posseses a laugh that kills like the drop her lips echo whispers of the poison she’s got want all of her passion

a fleeting touch sleepy embrace the sunlight casts diamonds on the lines of your face the span of your back

2

so fucking wrong.

in a faithless race for imputiny I blocked all I found worthwhile… in a hopeless attempt for my weak… that I’m here facing fear on my ow… rather like to be free where I roa…

1

the girl behind my eyes can’t see… it’s like a phantom in glass, you… not quite an image, you can see ri… but I see, that this wraith isn’t… whispers of malice I’ve never spok…

what would you call 'bad’? what would you say is worse? admitting that you tried, or admitting that you hurt? in telling all my following

I just shouldn't think to myself.

I think to myself– if people were rain I’d be a drizzle and you a hurricane I float through existence

2

only just to sleep

stuck beside myself all night I hear your echo in my sleep a simple pro and con of sorts as I’m trying not to creep on wanting words and wording wants

meshing shadows

creeping, it grows a bit too quickly, and he knows all these stones and every moan feel it burning in each bone and when he’s walking home alone

undeserving of what I gave just wanted to taste what I wanted… I kept telling myself I held all the reason you gave me some lines