Darkwolf's Poetry

‘Heal These Wounds’

Lost and broken
Young and hopeless
Smiling on the outside
And hurt beneath my skin
My eyes are fading
My soul is bleeding
I’ll try to make it seem OK
But my faith is wearing thin

So help me heal these wounds
They’ve been open for way too long
Help me fill this song
Even though it’s not your fault
But I’m open
And I’m bleeding
All over your brand new rug
And I need someone to help me sew them up

I only wanted a magazine
I only wanted a movie screen
I only wanted the life
That I read about
And was in my dreams

And now my mind is an open book
And now my heart is an open wound
And now my life is an open soul
For everyone to see

But help me heal these wounds
They’ve been open for way too long
Help me fill this song
Even though it’s not your fault
That I’m open
And I’m bleeding
All over your brand new rug
And I need someone to help me…

So you come along
I push you away
Then I kick and scream
For you to stay
Cause I need someone to help me
Oh I need someone to help me

To help me heal these wounds
They’ve been open for way too long
Help me fill this song
Even though it’s not your fault
That I’m open
And I’m bleeding
All over your brand new rug
And I need someone to help me sew them up
I only wanted to make you proud
I only wanted to cry out loud
I only wanted you to know how it hurts when you're not around
Now I guess you can do what you want
With me because it's not that I sought out in the first place

Don't even try

To help me heal these wounds
They’ve been open for way too long
Help me fill this song
Even though it’s not your fault
That I’m open
And I’m bleeding
All over your brand new rug
And I need someone to help me sew them
I need someone to help me fill them
I need someone to help me close them up

Gah, everything sucks. I'm grounded... yes, my friends, you heard me right. My car's gone KIH (Killed In Hailstorm) and I was grounded for almost being arrested (destruction of school property). So now, my brother (for examples sake, we'll call him Sean the twisted show-off, Sean for short) is getting drunk with girls while I'm stuck at home babysitting and barely awake at the computer. On top of all that, I'm failing and by no chance am getting a scholarship any time soon. *sigh* I wonder when all of this is going to get better? I'm too much of an optimist (Gee, can't you tell from my poems?), so I won't consider suicide anytime soon.
Heh...Keep on the sunny side?

Check, Please

Hidden in the shadows, as ever before...
shaking, I'll stand my ground.
Nothing to live for, nothing to forgive.
None can hear the cries,
I sound.

The rain will keep the friends away,
if tooth and claw do not.
Any and all who've come to close,
with cupid's dart,
were shot.

Take your fool hardy self out of the range,
save yourself for no other will.
The tracks you follow in a circle go,
you can't pick up the bill.

Never

Never let the children see the fear within your eyes.
Never let your parents see the you you have to hide.

Never let your dearest friends, know the one they know's not there.
Never let them see your slowly drowning in despair.

And this, my friends, is a song I recently wrote:

Maybe It's Maybeline

People make mistakes
Find that everything breaks
And it always is the same
Gotta find someone to blame
Because these errors that we make
(Cause we're all human earthquakes)
Yeah, we made the hurricane
But we're not the ones to blame

We point the finger (Even though it's not polite)
We condemn the son of God (We're hoping two wrongs make a right)
(Maybe) Maybe it is them
(Maybe) Or maybe it is me
(Or maybe) Or maybe it's Maybeline

People Make mistakes
We took the apple from the snake
And it always is the same
Gotta find someone to blame
Our reputations were at stake
(But the guilt we could not take)
America's gone down the drain
President's at fault again?

We point the finger (Even though it's not polite)
We condemn the son of God (We're hoping two wrongs make a right)
(Maybe) Maybe it is them
(Maybe) Or maybe it is me
(Maybe) Or maybe it's Maybeline
Oh, Maybe it's Maybeline

Not very good... Actually, pretty stupid, but I'm proud of it all the same...

I feel so lonely, all on my own... honestly, I haven't gone anywhere these past weekends!

Drop, by drop

Do you realize that I watch you? Always...watching.
Ever a step around the corner...
A figure, in the crowd.
Eyes from the darkness,
studying you.

Did you think that I had left you?
How could I, being who I am.
Not the same as before perhaps.
But still, not gone...
NEVER gone.

As much as you may wish it.

Would it be easier that way, hmm?
Is that what would soothe your "pain"?
You're different, and yet...
not being able to touch the source?
This, is MY amusement.

Oh but why...
does it really matter anymore?

If it were dark, you'd know where you were.
Take comfort in it...guzzle it down.
But gray...aaaahhhh...it's suffocation.
There are no corners here.
No trees, to hide in.

So bland is it not, just like all the others.
No Drama...
No Passion...
No Feelings...
Drop by excruciating drop.
You're dying of thirst.

Without that taste, that sting...
as it moistens your bleeding lips...
Would you remember?
One droplet to survive on.
Just a drop.
Given before the entire world
would fade away...for good.

You were almost there that time...
weren't you?
Almost.

If only you'd known what you had,
perhaps it wouldn't have come to this.
You are not what you were.
And, if I have my way,
you never will be again.

Glistening water.
Oh so much sweeter than ANY honey.
Trickles...from the past.
It never did cross your mind,
that you might be...unable...
to swim again.

Or, perhaps...
to wallow.

I despise you, you know.
If I could forsake you utterly...
I would.
Though I think I've done one better.

One taste...
Just a lick...
before your reality
would be accepted.
Just enough...
To start the spiral
of despair again.

How I love that.
For half a breath I see the tear,
wet and clear your glazed eyes...
before the veil falls again.
Only enough realization to know you've missed it.
Only enough emotions, to feel its lose.

That's where 'I' am...now.
...and where you'll remain.
......Forever.

Another:
Name Tag
Sometimes I wear a name tag
that tells me who I am.
Reminds me where this started out,
and how this hell began.
Though yellow and faded
from the passing of time,
its ink still lingers on.
Pinned to my chest,
it still draws blood,
though the stinging pain
is gone.

I wish that I cared
what the writing says.
Or what you think you've read.
Though smiling to others
that pass me by...
the one that it names,
is dead.

Another (Swear this is the last one for this entry):
Touch You

I touch you now,
because I want to.
Though our paths are not
the same.
Do you remember,
how the wind blew?
And yet...
we never got out
of the rain.

Yes I miss you.
In case you wondered.
Why'd you always hide
from me?
Smiling comfort,
through the looking glass...
but you'd never
let it be.

Right, here's a more recent one:
***********************
Dealer
_______________________
You thought that you could have it all,
That just wishing was enough.
You always won at this dealer's table.
No one ever called your bluff.

So, where are the cards you used to get?
Exactly when were the players changed?
How come now you can't seem to figure out,
The way this game's arranged?

Though help I can't give I know your heart,
I've been in your seat before.
The chips you stack never make it back,
Yet still, you put down more.

A familiar smile's on the dealer's face,
just ignore the accusing eyes.
Sooner or later luck must come back,
Then you're sure to win
Your prize.

And another:
**********************
The Watchers
____________________
We watch, we stare, our mouths hung wide
Her world is fading, she's died inside
Her fingers grow white as she falls to the floor
Her pain is known, her eyes are sore
We watched her fall and smiled with spite
As we watched her fall into swamping night

We watch, we see, but do not act
We could have...
But we didn't.

We're always there at the wrong place
And wrong time
We watched one day, at the pool in town
We saw the boy, we watched him drown
We heard the piercing screams shatter the ice
As no one there could save his life

We watch, we see, but do not act
We would have...
But we couldn't.

That girl, she needed but one friend
A second, a minute, of time to be lent
She couldn't tell what was directed at her
But when she knew, it was only worse
The words, though hurtful, continued to erupt
The girl, frustrted, decides to give up

We watch, we see, yet do not act
We could have...
But we didn't.

Post comments, make haste, ye peasants!

Yeah... This is basically where I post my random poetry, but I also welcome people to post comments on my poems and submit their own to display. I will, however, tell you that NOT ONE of these poems contains candy or flowers.
Or the color pink.
Anyway, the one I've been working on:
****************************************
Who's Afraid?
____________________________________________

Held crushed in the grip of insanity,
I scream for some sort of relief.
But for all my squirming and whining,
offering help will bring only grief.

Help me to help you to help me to see,
whatever it is you can do.
I can't tell you that which you wish to know,
for I ask the same thing as you.

You think I speak with an idle tongue?
That it's some petty game I play??
Join me for a romp in my head,
I doubt you'd survive a day.

Silence has always kept me best,
when others fail to care.
Try as they might their efforts fall short
and I must guard what I can't share.

See me.....please...
for I see you.
In the sparkling depths of your eyes.
How can you begin, to understand,
when I can't set down my guise?

It's not me, you know,
that traps me here,
I don't wish to be this way!!!!
While it may be at you and him I snap,
it's I who always pays.

With riddles I speak and with poems I cry
for the hand that can never come.
Kneel down low to help me up,
and you may not get up like some.

So what's the point that I wish to make,
do my ramblings have a plot?
To paint the picture black as night,
and say torment's my lot?

No.
Not that,
but something else;
something much larger at best.
A prodding of my soul is this,
puts feelings to the test.

I'm sorry.....ever sorry....
in the past I believe I've said,
"I'm screwed up in the heart my friend,
I'm messed up in the head."

Why did you not believe me?
Did you think that I would change?
That somehow I would turn around;
& my inner workings,
rearrange?

You've no idea how sincerely,
I wish I could oblige.
Strip away how I used to be,
and fix what's left inside.

If only I could find a way,
then perhaps I could move on.
I'd leave the fear and dread behind,
and not weep for days long gone.

I feel the icy tendrils creep their way
along my neck.
Curling terror, brushing death;
foul lies and horrors kept.

Burrowing pain that numbs the skull,
entwining a weary brain.
Forcing fully deep within,
seeping through like acid rain.

The trickle fogs and clouds my eyes
then monsters can I see.
Everything's so clear and yet
I've somehow lost sight of me...

Where am I...
who am I........
the walls are vast...
endless coffin with no turning back.
I'll suffucate if I don't find my knife,
the rope's never given slack.

I remember you,
my friend, my persistant pal...
how you ever wanted to know,
just what thoughts had crossed my mind,
what ideas through my head,
go.

How can I tell that my mind's a hell,
that self-loathing burns like fire.
Enveloping nearly every thing,
and tainting my name with 'liar'.

Not in the Air Force, not I,
I didn't join.
Or so proclaims my head.
Whenever I gaze on drawings done,
it screams my talent dead.

Mirrors reflect a homely child,
of 12 or a mere 13.
Certainly nothing to catch the eye,
and in her manner's a false serene.

Broken relics proclaim any skills once had,
that all have past away.
Weeping for only one single gift,
she could claim was her's today.

Others revel in what they think is real,
what they believe she's done.
So to work she sets to smash the things
that over time she's won.

They don't know...
they can't, that she's a fraud.
She's not what she's percieved to be.
To proclaim it from the towers she must,
before on their own,
they see.

It's not the beauty,
just the makeup.
It's not the knowledge,
just the class.
It's not the gift,
or any of the skill it takes,
just luck that'll never last.

The blade's ever slowly turning,
though there's barely blood to bleed.
And for all the pleads,
that escape my throat;
the hand on the hilt
belongs to me.