dark side

These are my depressed poems.

this just isn't working.
I wish I could take it back--
Nevermind, I've changed my mind on
the whole deal.

countless word collections I've started
never to be finished, I don't know
how to say what needs saying.

I want images and rhythm
with plenty of length--
not short but not too long--
I have no idea how to say it.

I have a birthmark--
in the crease of my right shoulder.
I have freckles--
oddly shaped on my wrist, but mine.
I have short fingernails--
cut for piano, I miss them being long.
My hair is still long--
it'll never be short again.

I have no feeling on my shin--
the result of a car wreck.
My fingers are crooked--
it's hard to grip things sometimes.
Kids used to tease me bad--
I really hate myself sometimes.
But I knew I was better than them--
somedays I feel top of the world.

My parents are proud of me,
new friends encourage me, old
friends love me, my teacher
supports me. I play well, I make
good grades, I have fun, I relax
and work hard, I'm exactly
where I want to be.
Why am I so unhappy??

I want to write, I need to be heard.
My pen touches paper,
my heart fails me.
I have so much to say, so much to share,
a burden that must be lifted.
It's here, crying out to be freed
yet there is nothing I can do.
try
They broke my heart. My friends,
my crush.
But they don't know.
She broke his heart. My friends,
my love.
I do know.
I want to be his and make him happy.
Particularly after watching my crush and friend.
go on
I long, I sing, I cry, I play, I try.
I hate and love, drink, eat, sleep.
I am not happy. Unfulfilled one said.
This just isn't working.
don't stop
BUT WHAT ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO DO?
I do these things- long, cry, want,
hurt, feel, and it does me no good
Writing.
Normally it helps but I have to know
what to say.

Life has no meaning, or a purpose in mind
We are as we are how we have existed so far.
It happened to be the right place, the right time, the right distance, the right star
And so it came to be how we are today
Going through life or throwing it away.
That we evolved into beings who delight at such things others live without.
Who are intelligent, or thoughtful, or run at the mouth
Or who are careless, or violent, or witless, no doubt
That there is no meaning, no purpose in time
So I guess this is really a pointless rhyme.
After all, please think about it, don't you agree
Eventually we all will die you see.
Yet we are afraid of death, it is a plague,
To go into nothing and to fade away.
But WHY? some ask (those thoughtful ones)
From nothing we come to nothing we go.
Live the best as you can (so the intelligent know?)
No!!, I say. They are all wrong
Do you remember before birth, the emptiness inside?
I thought not; the black void?
Just as I thought, you can't and you don't
But WHY? again comes to the mind
So I'll cut the bull and won't be kind
When I say "THERE'S NO HEAVEN AND THERE IS NO HELL
Just what you hope and want and believe there to be."
Do you understand?
No, I guess not. You just don't see.

We talk of faith; I have none.
We talk of afterlife; I want one.
Do you have any idea
What it is like to have
nothing?
To talk of death
And be deathly afraid,
Because I have no belief.
To talk of higher power
And wonder about,
Because I can't believe. try it.
Go through your life
Lonely, scared, and lost.
Listen to people talk of their faith,
Watch them bask
In the warm comfort of it,
And know, truly, completely,
You will never have it.