False Hope

This post is going to seem backwards.  Because it is backwards.  I first saw this picture on a shirt freshman year.  I wrote the poem that I am about to share around the end of junior year.  I shared it with my friends who I knew would be honest with my work.  They loved it. 

My room is a mess and I find "lost" things in it quite often.  Sometimes I will make an effort to find a certain "jewel."  This poem was what I sought after.  It took some ruffling through paper, but I found it. 

My intention was to read it for my creative writing class.  Neither the teacher nor the student teacher showed up.  Instead, a community assistant was there.  Nothing productive happened that day.

-Russian Roulette-

I slide a round into the chamber
Spin the chamber round and round
In a game of twisted fun
Cold steel feels smooth against my temple
The revolver clicks as I pull the hammer
Cocked and ready to fire
Slowly I pull the trigger
Sweat gleams on my furrowed brow
Blam the gun fires
Butterflies flutter from my skull

Another Poem

-Hopeless Abandon-

Screaming I cry Your name

I can't live move breath

Without You holding me

I've moved away in rebellion

Only to fall on my face again

Screaming I cry Your name

A perfect portrait

Now stained with innocent blood

Impossibly to clean

Ruined memoires

Screaming I cry Your name

Until my lungs give way

 

I just wrote that poem.  It's pretty much my way of saying so many different things all wrapped into one giant thing.  

First and foremost, it's my way of saying "I'm lost, and I don't know where to go, so I cry out to God."  The lines about not being able to live and such are pretty much me just saying "I can't function without God, and I have been trying to."

Let me say from experience, it sucks, to be without God.

The next stanza is pretty much just me complaining about some stuff gone wrong in my life.