Below the Heavens


My problems are on the rise like the bubbles in an aged bottle of champagne

A myriad of curses, issues, and a cacophony of damn pain.

Gluttonous consumption of pain and other drugs and chemicals

Leave me too low as I experience the highest heights of cynical

Expressions and mind states of depression and time it takes

To realize the capacity at which I’m running has exceeded critical.

My body is overworked; my heart is underutilized in my inner prison.

My brain is in an infinite loop, playing melancholy symphonies in the intermission.

Verses and lines play in my head, solely meant to chronicle this game we play

Orchestrating entire ballads, attempting to compose the most emotional beat;

A harmonious melody that I can only create by day

Because these dreams are all a game and I pray I don’t lose any sleep.

I will not win any favors because the old me is despicable

And my octaves are only ranging from lonely to miserable.

Chords strummed to my own tune as if I seek to ostracize my language

The lyrics are delivered expertly and harmonize my anguish.

Melodize my pain; it’s beautiful to have my hurting exposed.

All of My wounds are musical and the curtain is never closed.

If there’s was audience, they’d be blown away like a grenade and roman candles

But I’m too afraid the show to it all, I prefer to serenade over a sample

That I worked hard to make, but sometimes I doubt it’s mine

I have the feeling that I’ll run out luck before I run out of time.

I add all the things ever known to a contemplative archive

Falling out of love with the joy of it all, but I’m infatuated while it’s hurtin’

I feel the pressure of the force, easily headed toward the dark side

Because happiness isn’t guaranteed and none of my smiles are certain

Nor is tomorrow promised, we’re all like paper boats in the sea

With lead anchors, but it’s cool because nobody waves or notices me.

Sprayed with the salty mist of sentiment and sadness;

I go on and row my oars on an ocean of infinite madness.





I'm always one to be afflicted with false vanity and pride,

But in my head I'm always drawing comparisons

I argue with myself but I keep the battles inside

Because letting anyone else see the art would be embarrassing.

My struggles are possessed and my thought process is tainted

I have to look for a picture perfect happiness because I know I couldn't paint it

Behind my painted smile, depression and anger compose the greater hues

On a canvas of self hatred and my many major feuds.

Shading with the darkest hearts, but erasing because my fear to prod

Too far into paradise when I don't even hear God.

I couldn't even be a visionary because I'd never know what I was supposed to see

When happy was everything I wasn't...and yet the only thing I'd hoped to be.

Physically I'm not marked, but mentally I'm viewed with disgust

Because sometimes the scars fade, but the pain never really does.

This is all for the public

My jokes, pseudo-happiness, and this clown grin

Were constructed for you to love it

And for you to ignore the pain etched upon my brown skin.

The story it tells, it starts well, but it is depressing by the end glyph

Because most of the problems I've accumulated are in the same boats as my friendships.

I've come to realize that anybody will say they love you as long as you're the reason they're having fun

But there's a big difference between really needing a friend and actually having one.

It's all just small talk from small minds that might never know where I'm headed

Because honestly, none of this should have even bothered me...but I let it...

A tortured mind and a broken heart have rendered my soul tender

The truth is a sight to behold, But it's a sight I can't remember.

My eyes seem to fail me; My life fades, my vision dims.

I got everything I wanted, but not in the way I envisioned them.

Nor the way that I asked for,

I didn't receive any happiness or benefits;

Instead becoming my own mental task force

And prolonging my self imposed imprisonment.

Which I thought would go away, but self despair isn't finite

And consequently, consequences are avoidable only in hindsight.

I sought to wed my happiness forever, but she planned to be a widow

Causing me to sink and drown into the tears upon my pillow.

Sometimes I wake up to harsh storms and the sound of thunder clappin'

Some people thank God for waking them up, but I wish I wasn't around when he made another one of these "wonders" happen

It's not often that I embody blind fury because I swear it's awkward to see

That I'm exactly the type of man that my father's absence taught me to be,

That my mother's anger molded me into;

To them I owe half my existence.

Half of me is their neglect and abuses,

And the other half of me is a product of the world's indifference.

I wonder God, why'd you make me as this man?

Please tell me now if you'll take me as I am?

I desperately  want to get in the gates, but I fear that I can only spectate

And try to achieve Heaven between my ever present headaches.


*I live below the heavens in the moments before the heroes arrive

In the closet because I'm a monster when my ego's alive.

I was told devils persevere and I would never doubt a demons prophecy

My pride has taken root and my heart sprouted seeds of hypocrisy.

My thoughts rip through me seeing as how my foundation is assailable

Veins, like wounds, wind up and down the surface of my torso

And the fruit of all my labor is  as evident as available

Because I am the accumulation of everything that  my remorse shows.*




Guide that inspired this poem: 


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