Tag: poem

Damaged

On By rantandrave3In Uncategorized, writingLeave a comment
Oh no, oh no you can’t save me now. 
I’ve gone too far. My soul is drowned. 
Oh no, oh no just walk away. 
Leave me here to my doomed fate.
Oh no, oh no please let me go. 
My being is stripped down more than you know. 
Damaged you said, damaged I am. 
I denied it that day, but I was lying again
Broken I know, broken you see. 
There is no putting together these pieces of me.
Oh no, oh no I can’t see where I was. 
Where did I start to get this lost?
Oh no, oh no don’t look into my eyes. 
There is nothing left there, I rid myself of all life. 
Oh no, oh no there is no turning back. 
You need to accept that this is my new path.
Damaged you said, damaged I am. 
I denied it that day, but I was lying again
Broken I know, broken you see. 
There is no putting together these pieces of me. 
Oh no, oh no save yourself now. 
Get away from me before I drag you down. 
Oh no, oh no isn’t it plain to see, 
all I’ve done here is make you hate me?
Oh no, oh no it’s all I can do. 
I’m stepping away to try to save you.
Maybe I’ll see you again someday, 
this broken mind’s reeling to find a way. 
And maybe I won’t, then this is goodbye. 
I’m sorry I hurt you. I swear that I tried but…
Damaged you said, damaged I am. 
I denied it that day, but I was lying again
Broken I know, broken you see. 
There is no putting together these pieces of me. 

©C. O’Connor, 2018

Dark Sometimes

On By rantandrave3In poetry, Uncategorized, writing1 Comment

I guess I can get dark at times
I guess I’m not just all right
I think that you should know my fate
my life of hate
my broken heart’s state
I’m not pretty
I guess that’s me
but my soul is limitless
there is beauty
deep inside
where you can’t see
there is beauty inside of me
my monsters are gorgeous
my demons are free
those are the things that control me.
or help me to keep control
help, to slow my roll
to keep it chill
relax and rest
take a breath
not worry for one minute
just one
one
singular
one moment
one minute
that’s all I need
to be freed
but I guess I get dark sometimes.

©C.O’Connor, 2018

Showtime

On By rantandrave3In poetry, Uncategorized, writingLeave a comment

Step into my office! Welcome to the show! Watch me demonstrate in startling detail all of these things I don’t care enough about to be good at!

Look at me! Watch as I accurately portray whatever it is you think I should be.

All of this while you OOH and AAH!

I can bend over backwards and say pretty words! I can dance and sing and throw glitter in your eyes blocking you from all of my well timed lies.

I mean JOKES! It’s funny. I can be that too!

Please sir! Please!? Ignore the person behind the curtain and this face behind its paint.

No! DO NOT touch the art… it’s already falling apart.

EXCUSE ME backstage is off limits! You need a ticket to enter long term memory.

No, that’s it this is over now.

You need to leave! You need to go! GO! GET AWAY! Quick before anyone else can see the layers, plaster, duct tape, and glued lies I show to all of you.

See what you’ve done? You’ve taken away all of the fun.

There’s not much here past the sparkles and eyes. There not much here past all of the lies.

Not much.

That’s all that there is.

A flawed, chipped, and imperfect being.

There’s nothing more here to see!

Just another human. Just another bag of organs and emotions made of matter I don’t understand.

You know this. You all do. So why? Why do you expect to see a show encompassing much much more than just me?

Simplicity my friends. Simplicity is key.

©C. O’Connor, 2018

Flipped

On By rantandrave3In poetry, Uncategorized1 Comment

One side of this white lined page

contains,

each dream,

every hope,

and all of my fears.

Surrounded by the happiest tears,

and how crazy they all seem

now that everything I had wanted has come to be.

On the other side,

still with the white lines,

are ink blots and rage

of my demons forcefully shoved back into their cage.

No more adventures

no more dream.

I’m all that is left.

Back to just me.

That other page now

it only brings pain.

It’s funny how quickly things can change.

©C. O’Connor, 2018

 

 

To my family…

On By rantandrave3In art, poetry, Uncategorized, writingLeave a comment

I’ll take your poison

I’ll take your pain

I’ll suck it right on out of your veins

You won’t bleed

You’ll feel nothing.

I’ll take it all. I’ll wear your shame.

Wear it like a coat

hold my shoulders tight

I’ll make it fit. I’ll make it all right. 

Don’t you worry now

get some sleep tonight

I’ll keep watch until the morning light.

The dreams won’t get you

I’ll fight the worries away

I’ll keep my eyes open keeping your demons at bay. 

And when the morning comes

you can thank me then. 

This is the best I can do, and I will until the end. 

Chalk

On By rantandrave3In art, poetry, Rants, Uncategorized, writingLeave a comment

Solidarity,

to be alone completely

totally in fulfillment

exactly as much as i want it to be

because nothing happens that I don’t want to happen

complete control is lost completely

NOTHING saves us

there is no hope

only demons hiding over your bed on your chalk board

they’re always watching aren’t they

it’s annoying really

can’t breathe

can’t think

just losing my mind and

running out of

space

©O’Connor, 20161021_2058112016

A Poet

On By rantandrave3In art, Found Poem, observations, poetry, Rants, Uncategorized, writingLeave a comment

A neurotic

A sickly child

impressed by the natural world

A drop out

with great acclaim

An alcohol abuser

a contradictory image

met the dancer

the mistress

a passionate and turbulent love

all for show

a reject due to illness

a notorious poet

an archetypal Romantic

a flamboyant theatric

a heavy drinker

he collapsed

he died

a legendary figure

©C. O’Connor, 2016

“Dylan Thomas.” Academy of American Poets. N.p., n.d. Web.

Past Feels

On By rantandrave3In art, observations, poetry, Uncategorized, writingLeave a comment

No feelings. No thoughts. No words. No nothing but space and time and history, I guess. There is a lot of history here. So much so that it breaks me. Just the thought of it. Of it all. That simple thought can stop me in my tracks, and start me running back. Back to everything I was. Everything I originally ran from. History. Oh History. It can kill. It can ruin someone. It can ruin me. So we stand. No feelings. No thoughts. No words. Just nothing. Space and history. So much of each. They can make us or ruin us. Which will it be? Yes or no? Made or ruined? Home or running?

©C. O’Connor, 2016