Perfect Victim

A Boy With Roses

I pour the drink by the hour

Wishing I was your lover

At rush hour

I struggle to focus my gaze

I pray and hope and climax

I cry and laugh

 

Innocence is a child

In the summer

I was never innocent

My soul was wild from the day I was born

Raising Hell in my mother's stomach

She had to get a C section

At night when the air is thick

When people are sleeping for work

I often think about things like that

Days at the beach

 

By the ice cream truck

Cooling off

Missing when I was always happy

With no worries

Being a teenager, at school

Taking life for granted

Being an adult can suck at the best of times

I've got money problems and daily struggles

Feeling like coins in a bank

Still a boy at heart, not a man

Yes, I grow hair like the rest of them                                                                       

Although I relate more with Peter                                                                                 

Something in me yearns for freedom                                                                                       

At times I feel like a mouse in a trap                                                                                                                                                                                     

Alone with my addictions

 

At night

I am a perfect victim

Vulnerable, in a labyrinth

I am a perfect victim

At night

With my flaws

Blocking out years of chaos

I barely remember my memories

I don't know what happened to me

Along the way I've forgotten what it's like

To live life with the best intentions

Sometimes I find it hard remembering

I had the potential to make it

Still I feel like I crashed and burned

So many times I have to remind myself

I'm still young

There's still time left, fleeting like a ship

Fleeting like medical happiness

Enamoured with the dark hours                                                                                           

I want to kiss you and never stop                                                                                                 

My lips are trembling with excitement                                                                                             

The drugs take away my sadness for a while                                                                             

But then I wake back up at square one                                                                                   

I numb myself to kill the pain                                                                                       

Then I'm never the same                                                                                                       

Most days I don't know who I am                                                                                     

That's the part I can't understand                                                                                             

I thought I was someone in L.A                                                                                                     

I can't put a finger on when it went wrong  

 

The first time I tried to kill myself                                                                                     

I must've been seventeen                                                                                                 

Lost in the silence                                                                                                             

Hanging onto life with a heartbeat                                                                                             

I was like crashing sea waves                                                                                     

Sick of it, with a fake smile                                                                                                   

I exclaim I'm fine                                                                                                                                   

I've died a thousand times

 

100 pills later                                                                                                                               

I was rushed to the hospital                                                                                                 

Drained, unconscious, half-there                                                                                                                   

Stomach pumped, I failed miserably                                                                               

Took more pills, slashed my wrists                                                                                       

With the sharpest knife I could find                                                                                                                                                                                     

Even had my neck in a noose                                                                                       

Passed a bridge                                                                                                                 

Wanting to throw myself off                                                                                                 

I'm a liability every hour on the clock 

 

I don't know how it got to that point

A part of me wonders why

Life took a turn for the worst

I was playing a game with death

I faced it, but I wasn't scared

Now my past is a blur

A withered flower

Everyday I'm faced with constant trauma

At night                                                                                                                                     

I am a perfect victim                                                                                             

Vulnerable, in a labyrinth                                                                                                 

I am a perfect victim

 

Left to my own devices

Sour and histrionic

Dreaming of sunny times

I'm close to the shore

Breathing like I've never breathed before

I've dimmed the lights, acknowledged my fears

I can't run from the monsters under my bed

The violent thrill rushes through me

Like electricity

I echo with dread

 

Drama unfolded like washed clothes

I picked low hanging fruit on a tree

September dewdrops

This year I turned twenty two

I felt nothing

Couldn't find it in myself to celebrate

Highs and lows

Making big decisions

Staring at the computer with tired eyes

With smoke in my eyes

Sending emails

A fire is burning in my soul

I don't want it to end

I can't pretend

I somewhat feel better now

I've poured it out

Tomorrow

I'm going to set myself free.

                    

 

  • Author: Jordan Cash (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: September 16th, 2020 00:44
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 93
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Comments +

Comments2

  • jarcher54

    Dearest X-man, I'm stunned by the self-awareness of this little autobiography of the mind. From before your birth to your 22nd year, in a few dozen lines. The line I was never innocent is brilliant, but of course it's not true. You are still awfully innocent, and I suspect you know you are. I always feel honored to be let into your thoughts rendered so intensely into free/unfree verse.

  • Neville


    once started, I could not stop until the end ...
    a compelling tale told well.. I hope this is a reflection of your vivid writers imagination rather than autobiographical....

    • A Boy With Roses

      Flattered, but the vast majority of my poetry is actually autobiographical, as is this piece. I would consider myself a sloppy Confessionalist.



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