siriussoup

[siriussoup]

[siriussoup]

i miss the dad that i think i used to have

the one that took me to feed ducks

and called to say i love you

the one that pretended he liked my nerd things first

and maybe that was kinda true

a dad who made me hold a flashlight

while he fixed the electricals

but in the cracks he yells

when i go to put the flashlight down

because i am a kid

and want to play

and i take the hits for my sisters

small ones

small whacks and big screams

little pieces of his love

there is always an angry man in your house

i miss him. i am him.

i want to be free of him.

whichever him that is

i miss the family i think i used to have

that ate together and played board games

and went to bible study

so i could watch strawberry shortcake

i miss something i never had

something i think i never knew

calling him dad feels painfully wrong

but i think it used to be pretty nice

[siriussoup]

a recent favorite

posca pens on mixed media paper

[siriussoup]

father figures

How fucking dare you

Walk back into my life

Claiming all is forgiven 

As if it was all yours to forgive

Some issues are yours

But fuck you, some are mine

You still only think of yourself

Your perspective

Your view 

Your loneliness

Well fuck that 

My mother is a saint

While you spat in her face and called her crazy

She begged you to work things through

She was too goddamn good to you I swear

I don't give two shits if you’ve had it hard

Get your act together

You still speak in stupid metaphors

Sheepdog, sheep, and shepherds

You’re never a sheep, you’re too good for that

“I’m a leader”

As if that makes you different or special 

You’re one of us goddammit

Just another lonely loser

Own up.

It's about damn time for you to give up

How long can you pretend you fixed it all

In less than a fucking year

Dont you touch me to make up for lost time

While you renew your crazymaking faith 

You use to distract and build yourself anew

Over and over with a new verse each time

Each self as temporary and abstract as the last

Irresolute and annoying

You think you’re some fucking genius for inventing things

I was able to comprehend in high school

You spew the same ideas over and over

Rehashed and rehashed 

Like bitter worm guts spewed from the mouth of a mother bird

But i am no fledgling

And you are no mother bird

No more ruminating on your rotten grass

It’s sad

Think of something new

Leave that old life behind

I think if you ever listened to anyone other than the men you’ve deemed respectable

You’d learn a goddamn lot

And if people knowing the metaphors and emotions you invent

Before you invent them in long-winded speeches

Stops offending you to your very soul

I'll know you’ve changed

And if you stop operating only on diagrams 

And bragging about the damn diagrams

I’ll think more highly of you

You aren’t even using the emotion circle right

But you would have a breakdown if I corrected you

Not a shouty one

But a loudmouth one just the same

I hear whispers of missent texts

You’re still the same you

Just underneath several doses of meds and slightly better intentions

[siriussoup]

lungs

why does living hurt so bad

the mere inhale exhale

a minute quota of life

that my lungs refuse to give me

my head is a prison for my thoughts

my chest is a prison for my breath

one cannot refocus their breath every minute

correcting their nature

the mere idea is exhausting

my lungs, my back, my head, correct it all

i want to strip my skin

to paint a new canvas

do not perceive this foul body

so fragile, so broken, so gross

i hide from myself 

like a silly toddler

cover my own eyes 

to disappear

not foolish enough

to believe i am hidden

only foolish enough

to lack permanence

of any emotion

thought or idea

the darkness will go on forever.

thus said van gogh. 

did he ever see light

even in brief?

the light will go on forever, 

i think.

then darkness.

what is real, who is real,

help me out of here

This body is the wrong shape

im a worm

or a bird

cloaked in human skin

ugly and mishappen

every day the pieces split further

bundle them together and move along

how much longer can i keep myself 

bound to a place

i was never meant to be

[siriussoup]

a magnolia blossom in february

beautiful but useless

drawn out by a trick of the weather

too expensive to try again

wrong place wrong time right idea

[siriussoup]

grief is a weighted blanket

why is loss so comfortable and easy to ignore

[siriussoup]

mythology

generations of doomed men one after the other all the same all from the same place escape the cycle build and build habits deceive and reclaim their age old friends fight on and on up and up slip down become Sisyphus did he ever progress? is continuation progress? the hero doomed from the start is the hero to everyone else to themselves they are just a person lonely two sided crazy who knows my rock rolls back down the hill im tired of chasing it i sit down i ache it must be placed at the top as i walk down the hill i admire the view millions of hills with millions of rocks all born neatly in place on their hilltops

[siriussoup]

airport

im at life’s bizarre layover as i fly across the country. its a choice to board that first plane

but what about the stopover. a city neither here nor there if you turn back there is no place to go you sit stuck. there is only forward or nowhere

you choose to board the second plane but did it feel like your choice? the finality of your travel sets in it somehow didn’t on that first plane

and what is left of what you left behind and who is laying ahead of you? the night sky is beautiful on that second flight misty and speckled.

can you cry on a plane? only if the lights are dim. and they are but you sit at a halfway point unable to cry just like you are unable to choose which direction to go when you sit at a layover

[siriussoup]

Existential crisis at work

Heart thumping

If I could convey with a touch

All that I feel

Would another survive

The blow?

Head loud

Like a static TV

Full of nothing

So much nothing

Thoughts bubble through

Still incoherent

Silence is all I desire

But how do you silence yourself?

I wish to scream

I want to cry

This is an office

Composure is key

I have a job to do

So badly I do it

And on it goes

But I can't keep on

It's late and I'm tired

I have things to do

Do I do them or not

Do I have a choice

There is not a thought in my head

That could perform a task

I’m trying I swear

What is wrong with me?

I am going crazy

I feel it inside me

I’m trapped within myself

Punching paper bag skin

I must escape

This echoing skull

But it is my home

I cannot leave

On go the screams

That only I hear

Distraction and such

How did I ever live like this

How does anyone

I must be crazy

I can feel it within

I’m in here I promise

Let me out

I want to see daylight

To feel grass

To hear birds

The simple life

Is all I desire

Onwards I go

I can do nothing else

But who pushes me forward?

It is nothing but time.