Posts Tagged ‘depression’

Thinking About You

Posted: October 7, 2015 in Poetry
Tags: , , , ,

Once I loved you like
My best enemy

Soon I’ll love you like
Somebody I never knew

Already I love you
Less than strangers


By Benjamin Grossman and Christopher Rupley

The scenes written
in sidewalk chalk
scribble down thoughts,
melting away with
each new rain
and mimicking
the memories that rot,
the ones that hunt me
on and off

At times I am less
blood and bone
and more feelings upon feelings,
stacked in such a way that my core
will fall no matter my next move,
like a misplayed Jenga tower

My mind reels in
like it has been cast
into the deepest waters,
baited and weighted
for the next big catch
and release

As I stand on the ledge
Of a question, wondering:
Is it possible to lure oneself
out of oneself?

(This is part of a collaborative poetic effort between myself and CMRSYK1985: Make sure and check out his blog by visiting The Brown Bag Special.)

I fell for you
When I should have
Stood up to you

By Benjamin Grossman, Phen Weston, and Christopher Rupley

What is between the in-between?
What is over the over?
What is under the under?
What is after the after?

Destination manifests
conjuring a chorus of ifs-and-buts,
between the heliac helix,

Of toppled thoughts,
precepts reverberating,
smelted in the ore
of my mind,
pressed and hammered,
beaten and shaped into

An anorexic tomorrow,
a today that when leeched
bleeds weeping yesterdays,
leaping away from logic

Where esoteric divergence
becomes the hardened
sentiment of forgetting,
the apocalyptic self doubt,

And every thought that
steeps inside and out
leads me to
lean towards an absurdity
of consciousness,
to know that there is One
between the in-between,
over the over,
under the under,
and after the after
in my mind….

(This is part of a collaborative poetic effort between myself, Phen Weston and CMRSYK1985: Make sure and check out their blogs by visiting and The Brown Bag Special.)

So maybe there is some limit to love. Or at least some limit to who you can love, some sort of unwritten law of love, dictating what is and isn’t allowed. Though who made this law? And when and where was it made? How can we know what we’ve never seen?

Perhaps certain invisible laws are scribbled on our hearts the moment we enter this world. Perhaps this is the reason for the distinction between good and evil, between love and hate. At the center of death there is life, precisely the life of death, but is there really good at the center of evil, love at the center of hate?

I don’t think lying is something that you can just love. And I don’t think there is truth at the center of lying. We can never birth a truth from a lie, no matter what we think. (Though if you ask me tomorrow I might say the opposite.)

Almost I entitled this post #justdon’tlove, but decided against it. If there is anything in life that we deserve it is love. Everyone deserves to be loved and to give love to others. And even if we don’t agree with something or like something, it doesn’t mean that we have to hate it. Instead of hating, we should like-without-liking, love-without-loving. That is to say, we can love all things without being “in love” with them.

This “amazing woman” that I wrote about before is worth loving. I know this from the dregs of my soul. But the dregs of her soul doesn’t believe I’m worth loving. Still, she is no less amazing because she won’t be my girlfriend or my wife. In many ways she is even more amazing in how she treated me when I told her the truth of my deception.

Without describing the exact details, she basically told me how sweet and cute and charming she thinks I am and jokingly that she didn’t need another son. Of course, she said that the right woman is waiting out there for me (namely a younger woman). Though I can’t help but think she might have been the woman.

Looking back, I don’t really know what I was thinking when I wrote about this on my blog, but I’m tired of regretting things, at least for now. Thanks for the advice everyone!

For now, back to the half-light to glue back together my fractured heart.

#don’tjustlove  #justlove

I can’t remember the last
birthday that was happy
or the last drink that
was spurred
by elation.

Every year
there is a greater weight to
these smoky wishes and
a fear
that I should
this wine into water.

I am thirsty for a love
and remembering the last
time I held my beloved
in these vacant arms
is beyond memory.

Every year
I place this lofty notion
upon the fiery sticks
of promise
am I a fool
for wetting my lips?

I close my eyes and
one by one
the artificial suns

I’m alone
with your words
wrapped around me
the pressure of
every sonnet and psalm ever written
but when I open my eyes
you are like the light.


© jadedmess 2014 & © thebreakdownoftaboo 2014

(This is part of a collaborative poetic effort between myself and jadedmess: Make sure and check out her blog here.)

Our love was a balloon
Expanding, until it popped

Our love is a dinosaur
Nothing more than a remnant

Our love could’ve been rare
Had it outlasted a kiss

Our love would’ve been perfect
Had it not been composed of us

Our love should’ve been enough
But it wasn’t, was it?