Reading the scripts of the days I've subsided,
i try to keep reticient,
i try to hide it...
but the thought overwhelms me:
they are permanent.
I want to change that.
I have to change that.
With this in mind,
I leave to find,
a match or lighter or SOMETHING.
These pages must go!
I'm desperate to know,
when they vanish,
will I feel nothing?
The scripts are way too substantive
and also more so records,
of a life i used to live,
with my suicidal endeavors.
Knowing the lines I had written
will flow down these pages forever,
I then ignite them
and saturate in the dearth that they will come back never.
But unlike the records,
I can't burn away
all the memories
and all the pain.
I'll be scarred forever,
I'll bleed forever,
I will carry these thoughts with me, forever.
My past will linger in the depths of my mind for all of time.
No matter what i do,
for all eternity,
He is permanent.
Author notes
I have recently noticed that numerous poems were written on this subject:good/positive and bad/negative. My attitude has changed in each. And let me just say...WOW! LIFE SUCKS!
What did you think
Comments
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This is the third piece of yours I've read at 6 a.m. and I'm having a hard time believing that you're only 16. You've got a vocabulary and the ability to use it consistently that most people much older than you could never touch. You've got a way with words kid, you've got a way with words.
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a good poem, lol iish i had more imagination as well as being lazym but,,, mt brqin is a little drunk so... it;s all mad.
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