I have died a thousand times already
You will have lost me a hundred more
Before you even wake up.
A small suicide lives on the edge of my right side brain
He wears a red velvet jacket and pink ballet slippers
He has no teeth
His tongue stretches till Tuesday
He juggles razor blades.
Some people plan Birthday parties and weddings
I plan the number of pills I need to not wake up.
You’re either in or you’re out
Half-lives are a waste of space.
There is performance in Death
We live on borrowed time that we never pay back.
There is nothing to mourn here
So wish me well and have a drink.
I want it to be quick and clean
I want them to think I fell into a deep sleep
There is no dignity
In having someone else wipe your brains off the carpet.
I have accepted my mortality –
It just hasn’t accepted me.
It was a comedy –
That no one found particularly funny.
At least I feel something –
It may not be what you want me to feel but at least I’m not numb.
At least I am present wading through it like some swamp thing
Lying to myself that it will get better.
The saddest people I have ever known
Are the ones laughing the loudest,
The life and soul of the party
Telling jokes, smiling
As if to convince themselves they aren’t already dead.
I want you to know this is for the best
I want you to know that you can’t kill someone who is already dead.
You offer to help me find salvation in a pill.
Not even Nietzsche could make me feel better
I imagine there is nothing after this
I imagine infinite silence
I guess that in itself would be something tolerable.
I don’t want to wake up every day feeling like something is missing
I’m tired of searching to find nothing
I have forgotten what it is to be happy
I think it must have all been some silly dream.
Holocaust victims are climbing through my walls
I hear their bones rattling
They stare at me through the pavement cracks
They say ‘What the fuck are you still doing here?’
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I dreamt I was walking on water – I could see the fish swimming beneath me – I could see the sun on the horizon. I felt like Jesus – ignored and irrelevant.
Stop making martyrs of yourselves – believe me there is no fucking point.
I don’t remember myself the way you do.
I wanted to be an original but someone beat me to it.
Keep your beliefs. I have no use for them.
I’d sooner choke on my own vomit than humour you.
The only truth is to be found in a lie.
There is performance in life
But I can’t act for shit.
You’re as unique as they’ll let you be
And what of the dead?
I have given it some thought.
There is no purpose to this poem.
Take it from me – I don’t believe a word I said