fractyl depot - poetry

undone duties

I remember that I forgot it,

though I can't remember what it is

what minor thing I'm trying to call

out of the back of my mind, where

I stored it for future use.

Shove it out of my mind,

it isn't important.

Always can make some stupid excuse.

"Computer virus," I'll say,

and therefore absolve myself of all

and any blame that may come of it,

rerouting it all to some indeterminate

web page that caused the failure,

a failure that I will have "fixed" somehow

in a couple of weeks, when it is no

longer convenient to me.

I see the stack of books

haven't touched them forever.

They start to tilt, and I half-turn to avoid them

as they crash down upon my leg.

Damn.

I liked that leg -

never knew when you had to move on.

As I lie there on my bed,

Sega controller gripped in my hand,

and I oblitherate another digital minion

as the game congratulates my effort,

not that it's an effort anymore,

since I could do this half-concious,

as I am now, at 1:27 AM on a Sunday night,

my thoughts drift away from the game.

How like so many things is the game,

first an object of joy that I could not ignore,

then vaguely mundane,

now barely interesting to me.

Is this my fault?

Or is it just a natural state of all things

to decay not only physically

but metaphysically as well?

Or am I just strung out on Dr. Pepper

and reading far too much into a video game

that I've played too much and now find boring?

Or is that spider the answer?

I reach over and grab my course catalog,

then smash the spider against the wall.

He sure isn't the answer now.

If he was, then I think I just screwed myself

and I grind the dead body into the wall.

I feel better.

I think I figured out what I couldn't remember -

got it, got it, got it...

nope, that ain't it.

I blow up another monster.

Why did I drink all that soda?

I won't be awake tomorrow in school,

and I'll probably miss something important,

like news on the finals or something like that.

Shit.

I reach over to grab another handful of Skittles,

look at them,

and then I put them back.

They sure aren't helping me sleep.

I think for another momnet,

then I grab more Skittles and eat them.

Already awake - why not enjoy it?

I finish my can of Dr. Pepper,

putting it among my large gallery of empty soda cans.

I have a lot of them here,

all for some indeterminite project in the future.

At first it was going to be an abstract sculpture,

then a power plant,

then a battlestation,

then a Lambroghini Countach,

and now...I don't even know.

I could make a pretty penny off of all of these cans.

I start to count -

let's see, five cents a can,

and I've got four...eight...twelve...

sixteen...twenty...twenty-four...

I give up.

I know I've got a lot of them.

Now I remember!

I kick a couple of boxes of cans out of the way,

grabbing my backpack from underneath a pile of candy wrappers,

net-derrived stories, miscellaneous ramblings,

and a large stuffed fox,

and I open it up,

then I dig around inside,

until I find the sheet of paper I'm looking for.

Hmm. Poetry project.

Due...5/6...

I throw the paper back into the stack

and settle back into my game.

I've got time.

Now, I know there's something else I'm forgetting...

i am...

I am linking the worlds I never have seen.
I wonder why I don't give up.
I hear the aching of magic unjoined.
I see an emptiness in the heart of void.
I want to realize why I chose this.
I am linking the worlds I never have seen.
I pretend I need not help anymore.
I feel the loss of keeping all.
I touch the broken chain in the link of life.
I worry my efforts will all come to naught.
I cry for a time without knowing.
I am linking the worlds I never have seen.
I understand that this makes me an outcast.
I say, "Let them come! I am prepared."
I dream that I will, in the end, do some good.
I try to do what nobody can't.
I hope that someday, the crack will find solidity.
I am linking the worlds I never have seen.

and then...

And then, as his quest
was drawing to a close,
as he knew he had found
a dream free & unchained.
And as he sheathed his sword,
while all broken was repaired,
while 2 was slightly less than 2,
and realization found its place.
He realized that these poems
were only the dream's edge.
To find what all this truly means,
you must delve into your soul.

dream your life

The future is unknown.
Dream what you will be.
Make yourself a hero.
Never give up on it.
Make your dream reality.
Criticism should be ignored.
Hints are to be decided.
Base your dream on anything.
Envision yourself a parent.
Don't try to be someone else entirely.
Keep within what you know.
Be happy.

the television

I approach it from afar,
this majestic black beast.
It spews forth light and sound, weaving a tale a wonder.
I decide to sit, and grab the small object it obeys.
I press the object a few times, and it begins another tale,
one of the ancient past of Medevial England.
I sit back, and listen to the beast's tale.
Then, when it is finished, the beast stops it's dramatic show and lies dark,
waiting to tell another story.

apology

I apologize.
Profusely.
I asked you out,
Fawned over you,
Doted on you,
Hung on your words,
Professed my devotion,
Sought your validation,
Tried to lift you up,
Did as you asked.
I apologize.
You did not respond.
You ignored me,
Grew accustomed,
Let me stagnate,
Went behind me,
Humored my dellusions.
I apologize.
I am desperately,
Painfully,
Horribly,
Terribly,
In love with you.
You do not return the feeling.
You cannot.
I apologize.
I wanted something
You could never give me.
I do not ask for forgiveness.
I apologize.
For you cannot forgive me
Unless I am willing
To forgive myself.

drowning point

Yes,
I am no longer above saying you could have been right and I no longer believe that I am the god people might have wanted me to be and I don't think you're condescending when you tell me I'm not perfect (but I never believed I was, weren't you listening?) and it's true that this might be a bit more than I can handle at this point in my life (not that you'll give me the chance to find out) but I am starting to feel that you are saying more than you should and I think you should know that this is not what I want to be and not where I want to stay for my life (you can live with this half-formed truth, but I can't) and I am sick and tired of being told who I am when I know perfectly well and if you want me to swim let me go because you are
holding
me
down.

fault

Senior Prom
was like hell watching you dance in that dress
Graduation
made me remember exactly what I'd miss
Grad Party
turned me inside out wishing for one kiss
but who could blame you
it was always me
me
At the theatre
all I could remember was the hopes I had made
In the classes
all I could regret was the useless things I said
On my walks
all I could repent was the tune I had played
but nobody blamed you
it was always me
me
Don't feel bad
Don't act sorry
You don't feel it
It wasn't your fault
Never was your fault
Always was my fault
Never was your fault
Taking chances
what I told to you was precious and gold and stupid
Making gambits
you held me down for every dumb thing I did
Faking security
trying not to show the pains I felt when I read
anything about you
it was always me
me
Don't feel bad
Don't act sorry
You don't feel it
It wasn't your fault
Never was your fault
Always was my fault
Never was your fault
Could it be
could it be
you occasionally fell down?
Could it be
could it be
I wasn't such a bastard?
Could it be
could it be
it wasn't all it wasn't all
Could it be
could it be
it wasn't all my fault?

apathetic

Cut myself shaving today,
let the blood run down
Used to be I would have cared,
not when you aren't around
Don't think I ate breakfast,
didn't even give a damn
Without you as my other half,
I'm not much of a real man
And guess what?
You just ignore it
Now that I'm alone
I can't say I care
About staying awake
Or staying alive
And the breath I draw
Is just a gesture
Without you here
I'm apathetic
Slammed my head on the doorframe,
didn't feel a single thing
Twisted back one of my fingers,
could've been a hot dog
Know you won't be coming back,
so no use even trying that
Stare at repeating tiles above,
turn on the gas and leave it
Is this suicide?
I can't feel anything
Now that I'm alone
I can't say I care
About staying awake
Or staying alive
And the breath I draw
Is just a gesture
Without you here
I'm apathetic
Slit both my wrists in the kitchen,
barely even noticed the change
Let black spots form in my vision,
then averted my death
It isn't as though it matters now,
so I can't step right or left
I'm too sad to bother with life,
not determined enough for death. 
Now that I'm alone
I can't say I care
About staying awake
Or staying alive
And the breath I draw
Is just a gesture
Without you here
I'm apathetic

bastard

Does it make you feel better?
You're an impotent jerk,
We all know that,
Have for years.
Does the pain you inflict make up for it?
I know you think I'm condescending,
Because I'm not above telling you when you're wrong,
Which is often,
And you don't notice that I admit when I'm wrong.
Do I think I'm perfect?
Of course boody not.
I'm human.
We're all human.
It's part of existence,
But just because we're flawed -
We fail, we make mistakes, we don't bat a thousand -
Doesn't mean we're evil.
Evil is a concious choice
To bring pain into this world.
You are evil.
You hurt people because you can.
I don't believe in hurting others.
I don't believe in death.
But when I see you,
I could hurt you.
I could kill you.
Does it make you feel better?
You make me sick.
You make others feel like being evil,
Because that's the only way they can retaliate.
I'll prove to you I'm stronger than you.
I'm not going to hate relentlessly.
Soon, I leave,
And I let my hatred for you die here.
I will not continue a cycle.
I leave you with naught but words:
You are evil.
You are wrong.
You are a bastard.
Does it make you feel better?

the stunted child

don't fly
don't hope
you're not good enough
Mother, I believe I can be good enough!
nothing like me
like the others
not smart enough
not pretty enough
Mother, that does not matter.
I can be what I want to.
I just need your support.
why support the worthless child
you're not worth the effort
forget you
i hate you for this
you were supposed to be what i couldn't
why aren't you better
Mother, I am good!
Why don't you listen?
Why is your voice the only one that matters?
worthless daughter
useless daughter
i know other children
i wish they were mine
Mother, they have their own parents.
Please be mine.
don't fly
don't hope
you're not good enough.
Mother, why is the one person
Who never believes in me
Always you?

Dedicated to the woman once known as Jezebelle