Free-form angst

I have a sure-fire way of dealing with mood swings. Whenever I’m feeling down in the dumps, I whip out a pencil and channel my emotions onto a sheet of scratch paper in the manifestation of a free-form poem. Funny thing is, I feel a lot better once it’s finished. All my resentment and anguish is transferred out of my being, and often I can’t even remember why I felt that way in the first place. I’ve only written four so far, since I don’t really have these black moods that often. Here they are.
The Endless Song Of The Night My heart cries out
For the endless song of the night
A rampage of stillness
Beyond comprehension.
Troubles remembered
Friendships forgotten
Is my goal attained?
Are you forcing this upon me?
A flurry of moonlight
Extinguishes the sunlight
The sun is oft devoid of attention
Yet it is plain for all to see.
Bring back the sunlight, my friend
Long have I gone without
Hope is not out of reach
But it may be out of mind
Bring back the sunlight, that I may see
Blinded by the deafening, endless song of the night.
As I See You
And now I see
The purpose behind me
I must get to the bottom of this
(You know what)
My heart is torn asunder
(You know why)
You tore my heart asunder
(You know how)
With all your little games
(You know how)
With all your little games
That I can’t help but love
I love you as I see you
But I can’t seem to forgive you
For what you did to me
In the last days
In the last days
Slashes of redemption
A façade of redemption
Revealed at last
To yield another mask
Who are you, really?
I love you as I see you
But I can’t seem to forgive you
For what you did to me
In the last days
In the last days
And I don’t care if you loathe me
‘Cause you fake it every time
I know that you still love me
But you fake it every time
I love you as I see you
But I can’t seem to forgive you
For what you did to me
In the last days
In the last days.
A Sedative Sunset
A stab in the chest
Lungs without breath
Signs of life unresponsive
I look at the sunset and it acts like a sedative
Lost in the red
The yellow, the orange
The black is still to come
I look at the sunset and it acts like a sedative
As I feared
Feared beyond flesh and bone
An overdose of the sunset
I feel the sunset and it restores to me life
And the black is still to come
Broken
The concrete is cold to the touch
Yet I’m slipping into darkness
A void of things untold
Should I put up a fight?
Shall I roll over and die?
Avenge me, my sweet nothingness
Memories are flashing by
Resolve chipped away
Grip weakens with passing moments
Unsung victories
The door of opportunity
Inexorably closing
Final gasps of regret
No! I refuse!
I reach out and grasp a hand in the darkness
It is severed.
It is mine.
As I lie broken by the sidewalk, I wonder
What could you have done to save me.

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