Choose Your Name by yoursingingsatellite, literature
Literature
Choose Your Name
“John Brant,” I whispered, and a dashing British gentleman appeared in my mind, arrogant and suave as the slim-fitting Italian suit he wore. He sounded classy, not overly pompous. But there was just something about him. He could be the cool confident charmer I was looking for. But he could just as well be a stiff stocky soldier with his pride shoved far up his ass.
“John Chase,” The name rolled smoothly off my tongue. Another man took form, both the same and different from the first. He was just as charming, perhaps a little lower in class with a bolder tongue. And was that a little mischief I saw in his eyes? Undoubt
What you read is what you get.
Many readers cannot exceed past that.
But if you bring a magnifying glass to a writer’s brain,
You may just see what we truly see.
Within the mind of a writer,
There are not just words.
It is similar to a film,
But to us it is all too real.
Within our minds,
We have a simple sanctuary.
Either it be tiny or large,
Or just a great big desert.
Noises may be here and there,
And noises, I do not mean distractions.
These noises involve the voices of who are real,
And I mean our characters, ourselves.
What you see is just the surface.
Here take this shovel
And dig six feet deep
And penetrate the ground furthe
Now, now, all of you. It’s late.
Mind, stop wandering all over creation; you can only juggle so many things at once.
Neck, stop whining; sometimes, life puts us in uncomfortable positions and you just have to accept that.
Nose, I’m worried about you. You’ve been stuffed up and shut off from everything all evening… In the morning, I want you to open up more.
And, you, heart, would do well to be quiet every once in a while; especially at this late hour. No one wants to hear about your newest anime crush at 1:00 am.
Extremities, calm yourselves. Stop all your nervous fidgeting; it’s very distracting. That goes
I am carefully avoiding
your face on the wall
carefully denying
that you never call
I am telling myself
it'll be okay
words I must repeat
to get through my day
I am carefully pretending
that my tears feel fine
carefully removing
you line by line
erasing you like an
error on this page
locking your words up
inside the dingy cage
inside my little, feverish heart
though nothing could ever make this right
when I find myself still missing you
each and every lonely night
gotta tear down your shrine inside my head
gotta knock down this old house of cards
'cause my heart is empty, and
my joy for life is dead
and speaking your name never felt so
Today I met a girl,
and she asked, "How are you?"
"Just fine," I replied.
She said, "No, tell me what's true."
Perplexed, I stopped and stared.
She was young, no older than eight.
Her eyes were still innocent.
They knew no hate.
"What did you say?"
I asked in confusion.
"You know what I mean," she said.
This girl was in a delusion.
Trying to be kind,I replied,
"No I do not."
She frowned and replied,
"You lie quite a lot."
Now I was agitated.
What does this girl know?
Acting like she's so intelligent.
I'll just tell her to go.
"Let me explain!"
She exclaimed in haste.
"I know you're not alright.
I know you feel misplaced."
What?
How in
all of this pain
all the emotions i dont show
my true feelings
locked down so low
in the botton of my heart
locked up so long
no real emotions
there all gone
so please forgive me
if i seem so depressed
im never happy
my minds a mess
sitting alone
hoping that someone will come
save me from all this
no longer feel numb
all of this pain
all the emotions i dont show
my true feelings
locked down so low
I feel alone.
Seperate from others.
Suffering from a broken heart.
I cry.
I have friends.
They care for me.
But their too busy with their lives.
Am I selfish?
I stand in the highwall not caring.
I watch my life pass by in blurrs.
Turning my head just looking around.
I bleed.
My heart bleeds.
I feel so alone.
I watch people hug and kiss.
I want.
I try to get noticed.
I scream at the top of my lungs.
No one notices.
I fall.
I curl up in fetal position in the middle of the floor.
I tug my hair gently to see if I'm still alive.
I claw at my skin to bleed more.
I disappear.
My life keeps on going.
But I dont.
I walk like
I feel like nothing
I do is ever
up to par
It's like people
constantly want
more
than what I'm
capable of
I'm lazy for
not meeting
standards
or being as good
as what
others expect
What about my
own expectations
Well those are
just damn irrelevant
and damn ridiculous
Try harder,
be
better
faster
stronger
smarter
prettier
nicer
How can I make it out
ahead
if I can't even make it out
alive
I often wonder as I stare off into space,
If God really wanted me to be.
If He wanted me to walk this earth,
To breathe this sickening air.
I ponder this question so many times
as I lay in bed at night.
Do I really belong?
And if I were to die today,
Could someone somewhere say,
'She made a difference, she changed my life.'
I doubt it, for I know I failed more times than not.
I failed at being the one.
Failed at saving his life.
Failed the day I was brought into this earth.
And if I do not belong here.
Then where do I belong?
If the pain surrounds me in this place,
Where then can I truly be free?
You belong,
You are worth it,
Don't let anyone tell you otherwise,
Don't let them reflect,
The mirrors of their thoughts.
Their words are like poisoned darts,
Falling like the rain,
Trying to reach your throat,
To make you choke.
Trying to reach your heart,
To make you die.
But don't worry,
You're worthy to live,
You're worthy to cry,
'Cause it's all about that,
When that red spot,
Inside your chest,
Is still beating, is still breathing.
You belong,
No matter what they tell,
Wether you're trapped in the past,
Or running to your destiny.
Don't deny it,
Don't give up.
I have something to tell you,
And it's as simple;
Y